Ebysswriter

The Endings Contest Update

2012-01-11T12:21:00.006-06:00

Okay all.

First I would like to thank all that have participated. Looks like we have some excellent entries.

So, now for the learning part:

Please, if you entered, chose 3 entries to leave comments on--what you liked and what you think might need improvement. DO NOT be rude. This is a learning opportunity for all involved, not a bashing party.

If an entry already has three or more entries, move to one that doesn't. That way everyone will have an opportunity for comments.

As for my super awesome agent ( I mean that literally), Lauren, she is hard at work. As you know, agents are busy people. Be sure to thank her for her time.

As soon as I know the winner, I will post the name.

Good luck. And, once again, thanks!! You are all super awesome people.

The Endings #1

2012-01-11T12:20:00.006-06:00

Name: Larissa

Title of Manuscript: That Succs

Description: When fifteen-year-old romantic Emmy Duivel puts her first date in the hospital—with a kiss—her mother tells her the devastating truth: she’s not human. In order to accept what she is, she must give up her dreams of true love, and her feelings for classmate Paul, who has secrets of his own.

Last 500 words:
Paul snorted and ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it, Em. You’re killing me. Why would I say that? Let’s see. I’ve told you I love you three or four times now, but you haven’t once told me how you feel.” He crossed his arms, frustration plain on his face.

Oh, wow. I really should have seen that coming. This only happens in about every other romance novel I’ve ever read.
I slid off the bed and walked slowly over to him. He really was annoyed with me, because I had to unfold his arms and wrap them around myself. Remembering how he’d told me in the park, I lifted my hands to his cheeks and gazed into his eyes.

“Of course I love you, Paul.”

Relief flashed through his eyes, but it was quickly replaced with distrust. “Why now?”

“What do you mean?” It was hard to catch my breath. Why didn’t he believe me?

His eyes narrowed, boring into mine. “Why are you suddenly willing to say it now? Are you just saying it because of what I said?” He pulled a hand through his hair, then gripped my shoulders. “I want you to tell me how you really feel, not what you think I want to hear.”

Crap. How had I screwed up so badly? “I didn’t say it before because I’m an idiot. And I’m not just saying it because of what you said.” Closing my eyes, I tried to figure out how to say what I felt. I’d always sucked at expressing my feelings, which was why I usually avoided conflict. But I couldn’t avoid this conversation, and I couldn’t afford to mess it up. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and met his. “I’ve had a giant crush on you since you sat next to me in History on the first day of school. When I asked you out and you said no, it crushed me, and I thought it broke my heart. But this—” I took his hand from my shoulder and held it in my own. “What I feel for you now is nothing compared to that. I thought I knew what love was, but it’s more than I could have imagined. It’s bigger than anything I could have read in some romance novel. That’s how I know it’s real.” I lifted his hand to my cheek and held it there. “I love you.” I wanted to say more, but when I opened my mouth to speak, he captured it with his and it was all I could do to just breathe.

Then he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead to mine. “I love you, too.”

We had a difficult road ahead of us, and nothing would bring Mom back, but in that moment, hope filled my heart. We had lost so much, but we had each other, and that would be enough. It had to be.

The Endings #3

2012-01-11T12:18:00.006-06:00

Name: Alyson

Title of Manuscript: Marshal Me

Description:

Alice has a charmed life. Dead end job cleaning public restrooms for Chicago Transit, a Grade-A loser ex-boyfriend stalking her, and the highlight of her existence—Reed, the sexy voiced US Marshal she met when he misdialed her number. It was a match made in cell phone heaven.

The probability of her meeting Reed in the flesh is slim, but when Alice walks in on two prison escapees thumping an L-train engineer in the head with a sledge hammer, she becomes the next victim on their hit list. It’s up to Reed to hunt her down and rescue her, US Marshal style—handcuffed and shackled to the backseat of his squad car.

With her luck, two murderers on her trail and her ex in a jealous rage, Alice may never connect with the man of her dreams. If she could convince Reed to ditch the handcuffs and find the elusive murderers, she might have a chance at true love.

The Last 500 Words:

“Well, that was the most unusual manhunt I’ve ever been on,” Janalee sniffled as she packed up her dismantled rifle.

“I would think you’d appreciate the change of pace,” Reed said.

“I did. Really, it was a blast, but I’ve never been so invested in the outcome before.”

“Oh, stop your whining,” Pax said. “This was the most fun I’ve had in years!” He made a move towards me and thankfully he crushed me in a bear hug instead of laying another slobbery kiss on me.

“Even if you weren’t Reed’s girl, I’d like you,” he said into my hair.

“Thanks, Pax.”

Pax released me and Janalee was crying again behind him. She wasn’t the hugging type, but her burst of emotion, even though it made her face twitch out of control, was enough.

“So, Anderson,” Reed said gripping the youngest Marshal’s shoulder until he flinched. “You still want that transfer?”

“Please say yes,” Pax muttered.

I spun around and grabbed Anderson’s arm. “No! Don’t be transferred. Stay!”

Anderson seemed to be caught like a dear in the headlights, stuck between making a snap decision and trying to function normally.

“Let him go, Alice,” Janalee said as she wiped her eyes.

“Are you kidding? Anderson saved Reed tonight. He was the one to take down Kaplan. He can’t go now!”

Pax and Janalee looked dumb shocked, but Reed gave me an approving nod.

“You actually fired your gun?” Pax said, his mouth hanging wide open.

“Do you even know how?” Janalee asked cynically.

Anderson scowled at the pair, but turned to me with a wan smile. “I don’t think I could say no to you, even if I wanted to. I’ll stay.”

“I know exactly how that feels,” Reed said wryly. “I’ll send in your evaluation on Monday with my recommendation to stay on with USMS.”

“I’ll send in the eval,” Pax said pointedly. “I don’t want to see you in the office for a good week.”

Reed looked clueless for less than a second. “That’s right. I’ll be on my honeymoon,” he said and opened the squad car door for me. “It’s about time I took a vacation.”

After today, this ‘vacation’ was going to be all about getting Reed out of his bullet-proof vest and keeping it off. Along with his shirt, pants and anything else that got in my way.

I got in the car and looked back at Reed’s team probably exposing every tooth in my mouth, I was grinning so widely. Janalee was using Pax’s sleeve as a hanky to bawl into and Anderson looked vastly relieved and far more relaxed than I’d seen him all day. Reed got in and took my hand, tethering me back to earth.

“Where to, Alice?” Reed said jovially as he switched on the siren and pulled out of the alley.

“Home.” The word rolled off my tongue as if it had belonged there all my life. And wherever
Reed was, it would be home to me.

The Endings #4

2012-01-11T12:18:00.005-06:00

Name: Kimberlee Turley
Title: NOTE TO SELF

Description: Gracie Heart gets turned out of the New York orphanage in which she was raised since childhood. Rather than taking a dead-end job at a local chicken factory, Gracie steals a ride on a circus train in hopes of traveling to Chicago to search for her last living relatives. When she gets caught, she is given a job as the magician’s assistant.

After every performance, Gracie finds threatening notes hidden in her circus costume, eerily in her own hand writing. While unraveling the mystery of the notes and surviving the notes’ omens, Gracie discovers that even if she never reaches Chicago she isn't without family.

Last 500:
Robert flourished a ruby heart-shaped gemstone in a gold setting from his cupped hand and Gracie threw her arms around his neck. He took her into his greedy arms, swinging her around in a circle. Even after he set her down, the room still spun.

A soft sigh escaped his lips once he slid the ring on.

She raised her brow slightly. “Was that a sigh of relief?”

“Indeed. I was worried you’d not find the stone large enough to suit your tastes, or me rich enough. Especially when I take into consideration how you fancy four-dollar trunks and ruining my dress shirts.”

Gracie smiled coyly, grabbing Robert’s pillow from the bed behind her and giving him a well deserved thumping with it.

In hindsight, now lying pinned to the floor with his perfect body straddled on top, she should have known better than to think he could be bested in a pillow fight.

Feathers littered the floor like the entire pigeon population of Central Park decided to hold their seasonal molt in Robert’s room. And somewhere in Rochester, a poor girl was already pulling the feathers off another chicken to refill it. Gracie hoped it was the red-headed girl who’d put tree sap in her hair four years ago.

Robert kissed her once on the forehead, then helped her to her feet. His hands came to rest on her hips. She batted her eyes, and he took the bait. Leaning closer, he whispered into her ear, “I should warn you now, that I’m declaring a line of demarcation at my belt. Touch anything below my waist, including my pockets and feet, you may find you’ve automatically forfeited your virtue. Until I figure myself out again, I can’t guarantee to be a perfect gentlemen if you tempt me.”

“I trust you,” she murmured, playfully walking her fingers on the buttons of his shirt toward his equator.

He braced his forehead against hers as she slid her hands around his waist and pulled him closer. Tracing his chest with her finger, she slid her hands under the hem of his shirt. His eyes fluttered closed and his face reflected an inner struggle of furtive concentration.

Before she had a chance to pull his shirt off over his head, he grabbed her hands, tilted her head back to meet his lips, and stole her breath away with an adoring kiss.

He tasted like sunlight—a bright Australian sunrise and sunset.

Sound, sight, and touch blurred into one physical sensation. It was the blue color of the sky, or the taste of wine, or the feeling of being kissed—a mesh of experiences anyone could relate to, but that no two people could describe exactly the same. For her, it was the moment God put the spark of life in Adam. She was home.

The Endings #5

2012-01-11T10:36:00.003-06:00

(Pen) Name: Carrie-Anne Brownian

Title: Little Ragdoll

Description: As she grows up in the Lower East Side and Hell’s Kitchen during the tumultuous Sixties and early Seventies, Adicia Éloïse Troy is buoyed by the loving bond she shares with her sisters, friends, and one decent brother. Adicia dreams of one day leaving her poor class origins behind and finding someone from the outside world who will love her just the way she is. Along the way, she inspires a #1 hit song after a chance encounter, learns that sometimes the truest, strongest, most lasting love bonds come when one grows instead of falls in love, and finds the inner-strength to get through the nightmare that’s delivered to her after she finally thought she was getting a happy ending. Happy endings are always sweetest and most appreciated when you had to earn them and didn’t have them handed to you on a silver platter, after all.

Ending:

The waters of the Palazzo Rio look calm and smooth, though Adicia is still uncertain, particularly when sunset isn’t too far off. If there should be turbulent waters or another boat coming at them, the gondolier will never be able to see and do something in time to rectify the situation. Her heart is beating very fast as Ricky helps her into the gondola.

“You don’t mind engaging in a little public display of affection in front of our gondolier, do you, if he happens to look our way?” he whispers as they take their seats.

“What? I wouldn’t do that unless it’s too dark for him to see us. You know I don’t do that in front of other people. It’s too personal and private. I don’t want anyone, no matter who it is, being privy to such a personal thing.”

“Well, you don’t get a choice,” he grins. “You’re gonna have to let me kiss you when our gondola goes underneath the bridge that’s coming up. You wouldn’t deny your husband this one wish on his own birthday, would you?”

“Is there a superstition associated with that?”

“It’s called the Bridge of Sighs. It was given the nickname by Lord Byron in the last century. He believed convicts got their last sight of the beautiful city of Venice while passing underneath the bridge, even though that theory wasn’t historically accurate. The name stuck, though.”

As the sky fills with the beautiful colors of the setting sun and the gondola passes underneath the bridge, Ricky leans over and kisses her, the same sweet, gentle way he did at the county fair two years ago. Adicia nervously smiles at him, hoping the gondolier didn’t see anything.

“What was that for?”

“The legend says that if you kiss your beloved on a gondola going underneath the Bridge of Sighs at sunset, you’ll be together, blissful, and in love forever, and will have a happy, blissful marriage. You want that, don’t you? After what we went through in our first year of marriage, I’m not taking any chances, superstition or not. I wanna be with you forever.”

“That is a beautiful legend,” she smiles. “There’s no one else I’d wanna spend the rest of my life with.”

“Remember how we rode on the tunnel of love as our last ride of the day at the county fair the last day we had together before I was taken away from you? You made a comment about how ironic it was that the waters ahead of us were so smooth when in real life they were anything but. Now the waters are smooth in every way.”

“It would be delusional to think the rest of our lives will be just as smooth sailing, since no one’s life is perfect all the time, but we’ve both been through the worst. It’s all behind us. Now the rough first nineteen years of my life truly are nothing but troubled water under the bridge.”

The Endings #6

2012-01-11T10:34:00.003-06:00

Name: Jami Montgomery

Title: Knight's End

Description:
Aston Smith, Knight of Fridel, has been assigned to capture the Rogue Royal, a murderer killing corrupt monarchs. He leaves Fridel when he is accused of letting the Rogue escape, and is sentenced to hang.
He meets Jade du Halen and begins travelling with her, though he doesn't know she is the princess of a neighboring kingdom, and knows nothing of the dark secret she harbors. Or that she ran away from Adion to avoid an arranged marriage to the Marquess of Northsbury.
The two travel, searching for clues and slowly falling in love. But can they really catch a practiced murderer, save Aston’s life, and keep Jade from having to marry Marquess Jacob? Especially when so many others are determined to stand in their way?

500 words of ending:
“What about your father?” she asked him.

Talbot shrugged. “What about him?”

Jade smiled and pulled Talbot into a hug before standing and going to her wardrobe. She grabbed a bag and quickly packed it. She would have laughed at the irony of the situation if she wasn’t so sad.

“How do we go without being noticed?” Talbot asked her.

The princess glanced at her window and smiled. “I have an idea.”

An hour later, she’d been to the throne room and retrieved Aston’s satchel, telling her mother and father that she needed it to part with her feelings. Her father had objected, but the queen had been more than happy to allow Jade to take it. Now, she was climbing down the grey walls of the palace backwards, holding onto the rope from Aston’s grappling hook. Talbot had gone through the palace and out the front door, his hurt shoulder not allowing him to climb down.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, Jade felt her heart lift a bit. She’d felt too cramped, being inside the palace. The place that had once been her home held nothing but bad memories.

She turned to take one last look at it before blowing a kiss to the moss covered walls and to her knight, who was still somewhere inside. Then she turned and followed after Talbot, racing him to the stables. She tacked her horse slowly, watching as Sebastian helped Talbot tack Red and then gave the prince a hand up.

“Can you ride with one arm?” she questioned.

Talbot smirked at her. “How do you think I travelled here?” he answered.

Jade watched in awe as the prince maneuvered his big bay with his knees, holding the reins in only one hand. She smiled at him before finishing Sterling and mounting. Sebastian handed her Edward’s reins as well, and she smiled down at him.

“Leaving again, Princess Jade?” he asked her, a twinkle lighting up the old man’s eyes.

Jade nodded and leaned down to kiss the man on his wrinkled cheek. “Thank you, Sebastian, again,” she told him. She followed Talbot out of the stables and onto the path leading away from Adion. Talbot broke Red into a run and Jade followed, urging Sterling faster. Aston’s satchel bounced against her back as she rode, and she felt comfortable, having him so close.

She vowed to herself that she would catch Aston’s murderer or die trying. She was grateful to have Talbot to help her, and she knew Delgrab, Alys, and even little Richie would do all they could to help as well. She clung to Aston’s sword, which she held in her lap, laid across the saddle, and smiled. She would learn to fight with the blade. She would become strong and agile, quick and sure-footed. This would be her weapon from now on. It had been chosen for her.

Chosen for her at her Knight’s End.

The Endings #7

2012-01-11T10:33:00.002-06:00

Name: Christy Hintz

Title: BITTERSWEET

Description:

BITTERSWEET is a 56,000 word novel about a seventeen-year-old girl who survives having snotty friends long enough to ditch them and make new ones—until the ex-friends play a prank that causes her to lose the only real friends she ever had. Friendless and suspended, she doesn't expect to find the peace she's craved since her parent's divorce seven years before. However, through the loyalty of a boy (who’s not her boyfriend) and an old man struggling with the onset of dementia, she realizes her happily never after story can end with a promising once upon a time.

Ending:

I raised my eyebrows.

“Since we’re baring our souls here, I have something to tell you, too.”

I didn’t budge, waiting to hear what his melodic voice would tell me.

He shook his head.

This time I wouldn’t let him off the hook.

“On second thought, maybe I’d better follow your lead. I’m not all that eloquent of a speaker.” And he drew me to him for another round of blissful kisses.

“Mhmm. You do, however, have an eloquent way of using your lips. Oh, and your singing and guitar playing are almost equivalent. And you are amazing at both.”

This time he didn’t blush. “Well, I’m thinking up a new song as we speak. Or maybe when we don’t speak.”

More warm, toe-tingling kisses.

“Bring your guitar and the telescope next time we sit around the fire.”

“That is a very good idea.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Isn’t this what we’re supposed to do after our date?”

“There’s no harm in being unconventional.”

“You’re right. It’s my favorite way to be.”

“But I am starving, and we don’t want to miss the movie.”

He held my hand and walked me through the falling snowflakes to his car.

While I buckled up, he said, “Oh, I forgot to give you this.” He handed me a baggy. “Grandpa gave it to me. Said you could use it when you’re ready to find yourself as a geologist. He thought it might help you make some impressive findings.”

I took the baggy. “What is it?”

Dane shrugged. “He said it was a little piece of heaven.”

Sure enough. On one side of the plastic, the words “Janice’s Little Piece of Heaven June 2008” were written neatly in black marker. Inside the bag was a small chunk of rock, the size of a fifty cent piece.

“Oh. My. Thank you.”

“You’re thanking the wrong person, but I can pass it along.”

“No. I can tell him myself.” I traced his profile with my eyes. “But thank you for sticking with me. Even though I didn’t deserve it. I never thought I was the judgmental type, but I was.” All along I’d been as critical and mean as The Terrible Trio had been to me.

He squeezed my hand and reversed out of my driveway.

As we drove through the white-covered streets, I thought about Ashleigh and how I knew this time she’d be happy for me, whether she had a boyfriend or not.

“You know. I’ve been wrong about a lot of people, including myself.” I looked over at him. “Including you. Luckily, my sorry self figured out how to see people for who they are. Even Ashleigh. There’s more to her than I ever knew, and we were friends for a long time. But, even way back when I thought she was less, she was right about something.”

“What was that?”

“I needed to grow up.”

The Endings #8

2012-01-11T10:32:00.006-06:00

Name: Rachael Harrie

Title: FROM THE OTHER SIDE

Description:

When seventeen-year-old Verity Ronson learns her twin sister’s ventilator is about to be yanked out, she vows to stop it. When she runs out of options she turns to her ex-boyfriend and his freaky Dark Magick coven for help, only to find herself betrayed to her death.

Verity wakes as a ghost with one thing on her mind. Revenge. The coven members took her life and her only chance to save her sister. For both those things, they’ll pay. Naked and with only a voice in her head to keep her company—who cares if that makes her crazy—Verity sets out to cross her murderers off the face of the earth. But her world becomes darker and drenched in blood and Verity loses control of her powers. When innocent people start to die, she realizes that killing isn’t the hardest part. It’s finding a way to stop.

Ending:

I lay on the bed beside Audrey and slowed my breathing until my chest rose and fell in the same measured pattern. Once we breathed in unison, I reached out, found our connection, and followed it back to deep within her.

Light in a rainbow of colors rippling in waves. A joining. Completeness. A sense of coming home.

I opened my eyes. Light assaulted me but I blinked until the pulsing white of my vision changed to a softer, less-painful shade of pale gray. I waited more. The room materialized bit by bit until finally I could see again.

I gagged and tried to swallow but someone had rammed an iron rod down my throat. I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, started to panic. I needed the rod out, but when I tried to speak no words would form.

My mouth was dry. Thirsty. Had to get the rod out.

I was going to suffocate, was going to die, couldn’t breathe.

Help.

My heart sped up. Machines beside me beeped.

I turned my head in an agony of effort and saw Michael through a hazy cloud. He stirred in his sleep, turned his head from side to side, and sat upright with a grunt. Our eyes met and my heart beat faster. I couldn’t smile, couldn’t tell him I loved him.

Couldn’t breathe.

An alarm sounded somewhere above my head.

I tried to cover my ears but I couldn’t move my arms. People ran toward me, voices shrieking, too loud when my ears were so sensitive they heard the noise of Michael’s swallow as he jumped out of his chair. I couldn’t focus on any one voice, couldn’t identify what they were saying. A nurse leaned over me, one whose face I recognized from the hours I’d spent at Audrey’s bedside.

“Audrey? Can you hear me? Auds honey, stay with me.” Michael’s words were nearly lost in the babble of voices yelling about too much stress and comas and ventilators. Everyone was saying the same name. The wrong name.

Audrey.

My name now.

A gentle voice murmured in my ear—the nurse. “We’ll take the ventilator out as soon as we can. Just relax. Don’t fight it.”

I struggled to move, struggled to lift my hand, to reach out to Michael, whose face stared at me over one of the nurses. They’d shoved him in the corner and told him to stay out of the way. I could see how scared he was, and how hopeful, and how scared he was of being hopeful. One of his girls had come home.

I felt a light touch on my cheek. It took all my strength but I turned my head to the side. Just enough. Luke stood there, smiling at me, his eyes shining. He ignored the bustle in the room, the nurses who brushed unseeing by him while they worked to unhook me, and everything else except me. “You did it,” he whispered.

I smiled. Audrey smiled. I smiled.

The Endings #9

2012-01-11T10:32:00.005-06:00

Name: Jenny Kaczorowski

Title of manuscript: THE ALTERAE

Description: 16-year-old Emma must master her unwanted ability to manipulate emotions to destroy a creature known as a Soul Eater and save Alex, the boy she loves.

Ending:

Emma nudged the porch swing back and forth with one foot, the other tucked under her. A warm, intoxicating electricity crept along her skin and she smiled expectantly.

“Hello, Alex,” she said, turning to face him. He stood at the top of the stairs and pushed back the hood of his coat, shaking the rain from his hair.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked.

“I always know when you’re near.”

He sat beside her and the wooden swing creaked.

She laid her head against his arm and felt the emotions rolling through him. “You heard something?”

He nodded. “I have to go back to California. I leave in the morning.”

“Is it something I did?”

He laughed. “No, Emma. If anything, you proved you don’t need me. Whoever you are, whatever your role is in this dark world, we all underestimated you. You’ll be fine, with or without me.”

She laced her fingers through his. “Do you have a new mission?” she asked.

He let out a puff of air. “Not exactly. I have more training.”

“You sound surprised.”

“It’s an honor,” he said, but he spoke with resignation.

Emma squeezed his hand. “We both know you’re meant for more than West River.”

“I don’t want to leave West River,” he said, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“It won’t be forever,” he said. “And no matter where I am, my heart will always be here,” he laid his hand against her chest. “With you.”
“And I will always wait for you to come home.”

The sky brightened as the fresh, rain-soaked air brushed the clouds aside.

“Are you tired?” Alex murmured. “It’s almost morning.”

“No,” Emma said. “I don’t want to lose a minute.”

“Me neither.”

He pulled her into his arms and they held each other, feeling closer than they’d ever felt before. The bond they shared went deeper than words could express and in the silence, they said more than a thousand conversations could hold.

The sun rose in a brilliant burst of color. The somber cooing of mourning doves broke through the silence. Soon the whole morning came alive with song.

Alex stood at last and Emma followed him to the edge of the porch. He turned on the top stair to face her.

“Do you know what my first thought was when we met that day in the woods?” he asked.

“No idea,” she said with a faint smile.

“I hoped I’d never have to say goodbye to you again.”

“Then don’t say it.”

A smile blossomed across his face, lighting his dark, inscrutable eyes.

“I’ll find you when I come home,” he said with a grin.

He leaned in to kiss her, the kind of kiss that would burn in her memories for the rest of her life. She opened her eyes and he was gone, like a beautiful dream fading in the morning light.

The Endings #10

2012-01-11T10:31:00.002-06:00

Name: Cynthia Elomaa

Title of Manuscript: The Tournament

Description:

Tony knew making a new life for himself wasn’t going to be easy, but things start to get complicated when Tico, Tony’s brother steals money from the gang that is needed to pay off a debt. Miguel, the leader of the gang turns the gang against Tony in his search for Tico and in his efforts to keep his new friends safe Tony tries to distance himself from everyone. Tony doesn’t know who he can turn too or who he can trust. He misses his gang of brothers more than he thought, he is worried about Tico, and he can’t seem to stay away from Michelle. Rumors are saying Tico is in trouble, but Tony can’t reach him and he doesn’t know how. He just prays Tico finds him before Miguel does.

Ending:

“Where are you going ass hole?” Miguel followed me.

“Just nervous energy. Do you want me to stop?” I asked talking more to Mark then Miguel.

“Stop there. Good.” Mark said in my ear.

“Knock it off Tony, and hand King the money.”

“I'd love too.” I said then there was a pop, and Miguel went down. I ran for Michelle and grabbed her before she fell to the ground. I turned to see Tico twist King's arm behind his back and pushed him to the against the wall. I kept my eyes focused on King. Older or not the man was in good shape and I knew he wasn't going to let it go that easily. King pushed against Tico throwing him off of him. He turned and charged at Tico.

“Are you alright?” I asked Michelle as I untied her hands and took the gag out of her mouth.

“I'm fine.” Michelle threw her arms around me. I pushed them away. “Sorry, I'll be right back.” I looked around for Philippe as I got up but couldn't find him anywhere. I ran over to Tico to help him out.

I watched as King swung at Tico who lost his footing hit his head and fell to the ground. On instinct I jumped at King. He saw me coming though and swung at me getting me in the ribs. It almost winded me, but I stood right back up ready to block. He swung at me again, I ducked. The room slowly was trashed as valuables got broken, tables were smashed, instruments fell.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and the doors blew open, smoke filled the room; then the cops came in yelling and screaming for everyone to get down. I would have gotten down as instructed if King didn't have me in a head lock trying to gouge out my eyes. Suddenly King was pulled off of me, I dropped to the ground gasping for breath. Once the smoke cleared enough I saw two police men walk King out in hand cuffs. Miguel still lay on the floor where we left him. I felt arms wrap around me and pulled Michelle in close to hug her. I looked around the room to find Tico. I found him on the other side of the room being put on a gurny. Philippe finally found was next to him. He face was all beat up but he was smiling at me. I walked over to see where he was hurt.

“It's okay. It's just my shoulder. I'll be fine.”

“I keep getting you shot.”

“Yeah, it's okay, I'm getting used to it.” I laughed as I took his hand and squeezed it.

“It's over.” My voice sound far away to me.

“Hey, now you too can concentrate on getting your life in order.” Philippe smiled.

The Endings #11

2012-01-11T10:30:00.003-06:00

Name: Bonnie Rae

Title of Manuscript: Nether Bound

Description:

On the outside looking it might seem as if seventeen year old Ava Walker had everything a girl could ask for. She had tons of friends, was captain of the cheer squad, and could easily have any guy she wanted. Popularity was easy. Lying about her entire life wasn’t. Ava had a huge problem. Her stepfather Mark was an alcoholic psycho who beat her mother for pure sport. And lately the beatings were getting worse. Ava feared it wouldn’t be long before she found her mother dead. She wished Mark would just die, and then he does. Just when Ava thought they were safe dear old daddy comes back and he is hungry for revenge.
Be careful what you wish for.

Ending:

Christa had fallen asleep in my arms and silently I was glad. I didn’t think I could handle saying goodbye to her again.

“I will go make sure everything is in order.” Kaine said sensing I wanted a minute with my little sister.

She looked so pure, so innocent napping in my arms. Part of me wanted to wake her, but the other part new better. It would be easier this way. She would call out for me and knowing I wouldn’t be there broke my heart.

I hoped she slept until she reached my mother. With one hand I took the locket from my neck and placed it around hers. I ran my thumb across the Saint Christopher medal that now accompanied it. I had to believe they would be safe, that Devon would act in my place and guard them with his life.

“Ava, it’s time.” Kaine said.

I nodded and slowly approached Devon’s waiting arms.

“I knew you’d make it,” He said. His green eyes were still full of love and warmth.

“Devon,” I sighed and glanced down at Christa.

I didn’t have to ask.

“I promise.” He said reaching out for her.

My chest heaved and the tears fell before I even recognized the emotion. I’d always been her protector. I didn’t know how to allow someone else that duty.

“It’s okay Ava,” Kaine said, putting a reassuring hand on my back.

I had to do this. It was the only way, even though it still felt wrong.

I had to save her.

“I love you peanut.” I said kissing her forehead ever so lightly so as not to wake her.

Devon gently took her from me and I silently prayed for strength.

“I’m always with you.” I whispered in her ear before forcing myself to turn away.

“We’ll come for you,” Devon said.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

“Just keep them safe.”

I knew they wouldn’t come for me. That wasn’t part of the deal. Even if they wanted to they would all die trying to save me and that was too big of a risk.

“Just keep them safe,” I repeated, this time barely above a whisper.

“With my life.”

He’d said that before. I just hoped this time he really meant it. Deep down I knew he did. I knew Devon would do anything for me and for my family. I felt a rush of wind and then just like that, they were gone.

She was gone.

I didn’t even have time to rethink the process before I felt Lucifer’s chains binding me. All the warmth faded from my body and my knees buckled. My body collapsed and darkness flooded my mind. I tried to fight it. Every ounce of my niphilim blood refused this invasion, but it was helpless.

My life was over.

“Welcome home.” Lucifer’s voice roared.

The Endings #12

2012-01-11T10:29:00.002-06:00

Name: Jordan Mierek

Title of manuscript: KISTISHI ISLAND

150 word description of your story: Sixteen-year-old Serena Cole can kick serious butt thanks to young women only she can see. School bullies aren’t a problem, but Serena’s mental health might be. To shield Serena from a dark secret, her family tries to convince her that her friends are imaginary.

Fleeing her distrustful aunt, Serena joins her mother on an archeological dig at Kistishi Island. There, Serena discovers an ancient scroll and realizes her invisible friends have never been imaginary; rather, they are goddesses native to the island, and they are in danger of enslavement for their abilities. The queen of Kistishi craves their powers so she will never have to bow to deities again. Only Serena can save her friends if she can discover the past her family has hidden her entire life – the reason why only she can see the goddesses.

500 words:
January settled into the sand by Serena’s head to preen her matted hair.

“You know something,” Serena whispered. “I think I’m gonna be okay with leaving my mom here, because I’ll always have you guys. Forever.”

“Forever,” Wahrheit, the Goddess of Truth, said.

A light streaked across the sky. Serena wondered if it was one of the fleeing Kistishian Gods or Goddesses.

“Dear Dad,” she said. “I found you, but I don’t think this is where my life is.” Although she didn’t want to stay with him, a stranger, she couldn’t wait to give him the letters that remained in her notebook.

#

Her father sat on a long sofa of red velvet, a glass of merlot in his hand. His dark skin mingled with his pale purple eyes. His black hair, with a few streaks of gray, was fastened at his neck in a queue. He wore white pants, a white blouse, and a jeweled belt. She’d never seen any man so handsome.

Serena stood across the room, the letters clutched in her hand, her heart racing.

“Dad?” The word dropped from her mouth to plink the floor.

He coughed into his fist. “If you feel comfortable calling me that, all right.”

“I never thought I’d really have a dad.” She studied his face, recognizing her nose and eyes in his. “I used to hope you were still alive, but then, I knew it was impossible, and it was silly of me to think that.”

“I never knew you existed.” He stared into his merlot. “I apologize for that. If I’d known, I would have found you.”

“Don’t blame Mom. She didn’t mean to make trouble.” Despite her faults, Sophia was still her mother. Serena couldn’t find hatred in her heart for the woman.

The king lifted his gaze. “I could never hate your mother. I hope we can become closer now.”
“I hope so, too.” Serena giggled. Her father was supposed to marry Sophia now. She would have actual parents, even if they lived on an island far away.

Silence fell. He took a sip. She studied an ocean painting on his beige walls. “Is this your office?”
“My thinking room.” He rose from the sofa and crossed the room to a table of bottles. “Would you like a drink? I have mango juice.”

She licked her lips. “That would be great. Thank you.”

He poured orange liquid into a glass and held it out to her. “Come join me. I would like to hear about your life.” When she accepted the drink, he rested his hand on her back to lead her to his sofa. “I want to learn how to be a…dad.”

Serena grinned. “I wrote these for you. I was going to burn them, because Krieg said that’s how you talk to the dead, but she was going to do it and she never did. Maybe she was going to actually give them to you.”

“Maybe.” He accepted her bundle. “We’ll read them together.”

The Endings #13

2012-01-11T10:28:00.002-06:00

Name: G. Donald Cribbs

Title of manuscript: The Packing House

150 word description of your story:
Sixteen-year-old Joel Scrivener's vicious nightmares return and force him to face a problem he thought had to do with his parents’ divorce. Driven by an embarrassing viral video of himself in study hall where he fell asleep, Joel must figure out who or what is the source of his bad dreams, before his brother Jonathan joins the school crowd, driving Joel further into isolation. Running from his problems solves nothing. For Joel, it earns him a full, psychological exam.

His ally through it all is Amber Walker, childhood friend and kindred spirit, who also happens to be the only girl he’s ever loved. Amber is conflicted. A true friend would help Joel lose the bad-boy reputation he’s recently acquired. But Amber doesn’t want another broken boy, regardless of how long they’ve been friends. Joel must find a way to overcome his brokenness, or lose Amber forever.

500 word ending:
We allow our bodies to press together, follow our instincts, lips touching with electric crackling energy—we’ve put this off far too long. We crash like the waves pooling at our feet. I lose all sense of time, nothing else matters but this moment we share. She kisses me back as much as I kiss her. I find myself gasping to catch my breath. She lets out a faint sigh.

I no longer notice the sun, large and fiery, sinking into the horizon.

The water has risen to our hips. We come to our senses, and realize the sun has gone from yellow to orange to a deep crimson red and the sky has deepened to the blue of twilight.

We laugh, two drunk swimmers having found a sunken treasure, traveling far to reach land and air again. This finally seems right. I know it in my gut, the stomach-flutter quivers of two stones crashing together, the beginning spark of love. We climb out of the water, and up the beach, stumbling, but happy to have found new hope together.
#
That night, when I push out in the boat of sleep, away from shore, I travel to the middle of the lake. I have been here before. This lake. This boat. It is as familiar to me as blank lines on a page waiting to be filled. But, something has changed.

When I look to the shore, expecting to see him, no one is there. My younger self is no longer there either.

I return to the shore. There are signs in the dirt of a scuffle, so I know we have been here, but somehow, I got away. As I start to walk away from the pond, I am surrounded by darkness, then a flicker, a flame far off. I head in that direction. Something draws me toward this light.
Then, I sense the ground has changed.

I walk on stone. Before me, a corridor juts out, torches ensconced at regular intervals. I follow the passage until it reaches a corner. When I turn, I realize where I am.

The stairwell.

I start down the stairs. But, as I begin to go down, it occurs to me I don’t have to keep going down. I could turn around, and head back up. Only, I don’t. I want to know for sure. I reach the bottom and turn the corner into the crypt. The two rooms are dark, empty.
I am alone here.

So, I finally do what I should have done long ago. I head back up the stairs, and keep walking, never looking back.
#
Sunlight, golden and comforting, greets me. A new day, a fresh start, as forgiveness washes over me. I soak it in, take my time before I gather myself up, and prepare to stand once more. My eyes open. I am alive. Today is a day for letting go.

And then, I know with certainty, I will rise again. THE END

The Endings #14

2012-01-11T10:27:00.005-06:00

Name: Lisa Collicutt

Title of manuscript: The Devil’s Flower

Description:
A runaway, Rosalie Lockwood finds the Fallen Paladins motorcycle club lead by twenty-year-old Darkstar. She is quickly accepted into the fold. Soon after, it is revealed that she is the one they fear—the one who bears the mark of the one who will destroy them and their kind.
Rosalie is a fledgling—called to destroy all neophytes: half-human, half-demons, as is the charge of all half-human, half-seraphs. Darkstar’s neophyte brethren are reluctant to believe that Rosalie’s sudden appearance is a fluke and begin to mistrust her. Darkstar insists she can trust him and if necessary, he will kill his fellow neophytes.
By now Rosalie can neither deny who or what she is, nor her deep love for Darkstar. The only way to prove to the neophytes that she’s not the killer they fear is to save their souls. But in order to do that, she must become soulless herself.

Last 491 words:
Later that evening, after a mild protest from Rose, Darkstar snuck her away from the party, telling her he had a surprise for her.

Blindfolded by Darkstar’s hands, she was led to a dimly lit corner of the garage. When he released her, her eyes flew open and she gasped. In front of her was Jade’s glossy black Harley. The only art was the name, Jade painted on one side of the gas tank.

“It’s yours,” he said, his tough voice edged with rare excitement. “Of course I’ll buy you a new one, but I thought this would be good to practice…”

“I don’t want a new one.”

Rose was staring at the new-to-her bike. She knew how hard of a decision it would have been for Darkstar to give it to her. It would mean she’d be on the road almost every day, riding her own motorcycle, living dangerously like the rest of them.

She twisted her neck to look at him, her fingers stroking Jade’s name. “I mean, it would be silly to let this perfectly good bike go to waste. I love it.” And she did.

“I can get Patch and Thorne to give it a custom paint job,” he suggested thoughtfully.

She shook her head. “Maybe they can paint my name on the other side of the tank instead.”
Smiling, he nodded. “Get on. See if it fits.”

From the bottoms of her feet to the tips of her fingers, it fit her like everything else of Jade’s—like it was made for her.

“Can I cry now?” As she said it, she blinked releasing a tear from each eye.

Darkstar straddled the seat behind her, sliding his arms around her waist. Rose leaned against him, resting the back of her head on his shoulder, perfectly content.

“You know, most girls would have wanted all new everything.”

“I’m not most girls.”

“No you’re not. You’re my delicate Rose. And I love you.” He breathed the words against her neck, working his way to her eagerly awaiting lips.

Rose twisted the upper half of her body until their faces met. “And I love you.” Darkstar’s hand had worked its way under the front of her t-shirt, flattening out on her stomach. “But I’m not so delicate.”

Their cheeks brushed lightly together. His lips lingered a fraction from hers. “You’ll always be delicate to me. And I’ll work extra hard for the rest of my life to keep you safe, because I can’t imagine being in this world without you.”

“We’re special,” Rose whispered against his lips. “Blessed of the Seraphim.”

“It doesn’t get more special than that,” Darkstar breathed back.

Unable to bear the delay any longer; her hand found the back of his head; her fingers tangled through his hair and their lips melted together.

And as Eloa promised, two souls, destined to share a lifetime and beyond, began the rest of their long, human lives together.

The Endings #15

2012-01-11T10:27:00.004-06:00

Name: Jordan Mierek

Title of manuscript: COGLING

Description: Fifteen-year-old Edna discovers an expensive pocket watch hanging around her brother's neck and is afraid he stole it. As she tears the watch off, her brother crumbles into a pile of cogs. Edna flees into the city streets for help, but encounters Ike, a thief who attempts to steal the watch before he realizes what it is—a device to power Coglings.

According to Ike, hags kidnap children to work in their factories and replace their bodies with Coglings—clockwork changelings. Desperate to rescue her brother, Edna sets off across the kingdom to the hags' swamp, with Ike in tow. There, they learn Coglings are also replacing nobility so the hags can stage a rebellion and rule over humanity. Edna and Ike must stop them, but the populace believes hags are helpful godmothers and healers – no one wants to believe a servant and a thief, especially when Ike has secrets that could label them both as traitors.

500 word ending:
Edna glanced at the castle, smaller than Langston, but still grand. “Because we’re only living here until Langston is rebuilt, silly.”

“Ike could find jobs for them here.”

“Maybe later.” Edna tucked a curl behind her ear. “My father just returned home. They’re not used to court life. For now, I’ll help them find a better home in the city and send them my earnings.”

“Edna?” Ike called. She rose off the bench so fast she stumbled on the grass. Rachel caught her hand, laughing.

“So that’s why you were out here,” she teased.

Edna flushed, pulling her hand free. “See you when I come back.”

“Tell Harrison I wish him well at school,” Rachel called as Edna hurried up the hill to Ike. He caught her around the waist in a hug.

Edna stepped back with her hands on his shoulders. The young man standing in front of her looked little like the thief who’d tried to rob her only a month before. He wore a dark suit with a silk cravat and a black top hat.

“I would’ve come sooner, but I was in a meeting.” He dropped a kiss on her lips. “My father agreed to look into our case against the goblins and my grandfather’s finding a trustworthy hag to help heal my mother’s mind.”

“Excellent.” Her stomach fluttered as he interlaced their fingers, leading her toward the gardens. She stretched her fingers to keep from yanking him closer. He might see it as too forward, but she craved his touch, his love. With his eyes bright and dark stubble around his jaw, he fit the part of the dashing thief.

“Harrison and Hilda are waiting for the coach, but we have a little time.” Ike nudged Edna behind a tree, sheltered from the castle’s view. Breath caught in her throat, her lungs tight, and she slipped her hand behind his head. By the Saints, she’d be as forward as she wanted.

Edna kissed Ike hard upon the mouth.

#

The king’s coach clattered along the city road. Harrison kept his face pressed against the window.

“There’s the corner drugstore,” he said. “There’s the alchemist’s.”

Edna laughed. He’d pointed out familiar landmarks since they’d first entered their city. “Yes, we’re home.”

Hilda sat across from them, writing in her diary. She nodded without looking up.

“There’s the mechanics,” Harrison said. Edna couldn’t stop the grin from spreading. The haunted looks had slipped away from her brother, and the little boy was Harrison again, the child she loved. Edna kissed the top of his head.

“What’s that for?” He rubbed his hair, scowling. Yes, he was darling Harrison again.

“I’m just glad you’re back.”

“Me, too.” His grin matched hers.

The driver stopped the coach in front of their tenement. Harrison snapped the door open and leapt out. Laughing, Edna followed. Hand in hand, they ran up the front steps into the building to see their parents.

The Endings #16

2012-01-11T10:26:00.002-06:00

Name: Kate Larkindale

Title of Manuscript: Chasing the Taillights

Description: After a car accident kills their parents, Lucy and Tony are forced to rely on one another - and decide whether to reveal their secrets.

Lucy struggles to get her life back on track. She can’t tell Tony what she knows about the accident for fear of destroying the tentative bond between them. Yet the longer she holds onto the secret, the more it festers inside. If she doesn’t confess, she might lose her mind. If she does, she might lose the only person she has left who loves her.

Tony has his own problems. Between diving practice, classes and homework, not to mention concealing the crush he has on Jake, his best friend, Tony needs to find room in his life for his sister. Only Tony’s strength can save them both, but his own stability dwindles with every passing day.

Last 500 Words:
Later, much later, we stroll the length of the small, private bay behind the house. The moon is high in the star-strewn sky now, a brilliant white orb casting enough light to read by. Under my bare feet, the sand is cold and gritty. My toes ache, but it wouldn’t feel right to wear shoes.

We don’t speak, just walk, listening to the gentle scuffling of the crabs moving along the beach and the hypnotic lapping of the sea on the shore. It’s peaceful and beautiful; the perfect resting place.

“Here?” Lucy stops in the shadow of an overhanging tree. I look up at it, remembering the forts I’d imagined in its branches, the hours I’ve spent sprawled across its broad limbs.
I nod. “Yeah.”

She starts climbing and I follow. I’m surprised by how easy it is to make my way up the knotty trunk, but I’m a lot bigger now than the last time I attempted to climb a tree. We scramble along a thick branch to a point near the end. Beneath us, the bay sparkles in the milky glow, a perfect reflection of the silver ball lying at our feet.

It’s into this illusion that I fling the first handful of ashes. Next to me, Lucy upturns the urn, letting the dusty remains of our parents dribble between the leaves to rest on the golden sand.

“Goodbye, Mom,” she whispers. “Goodbye, Dad.” There are no tears now, just a determined cast to her face, a set to her jaw. I bow my head, whispering my own farewell before leaping from the branch to the packed sand below. I wince at the water’s chill spiking up my legs and wait for them to numb before reaching up to pull Lucy from the tree.

“Jake kissed me.” I stare out at the sea, watching the ripples slide the moon’s reflection toward me, then pull it away.

“Is that where you’ve been this week? With Jake?” She’s shivering with cold, her teeth chattering together.

“Yeah. I think we’re good.”

“I’m happy for you.” She looks up at me and smiles, the moonlight making her teeth shine like pearls.

“Let’s go home,” I say, pulling her close to my side as we splash through the shallows, kicking up a jewel-like spray.

“Home?” She stares up at the dark shadow that is the house. Hugging me around the waist, she presses her face against my chest. “I am home.”

As we walk, our shadows cutting a path through the moonlight, Lucy starts to sing.

The Endings #17

2012-01-11T10:25:00.002-06:00

Name: Cecilia Muoki

Title of Manuscript: Grim Reaper's Novice

Description: They say that you don’t know what you’ve got until you lose it. I didn’t need to lose mine to know what I had.On one fateful day two years ago, I lost my family to a terrible accident. Unable to live without them, I made a deal with The Grim Reaper. I traded my soul for the four souls of my family.

Most nineteen year olds I know live normal lives, as normal as the word goes.
Not me. I collect souls for a living, a decision I do not regret making.

My two years of novice-hood are almost up. I am about to be tested before officially becoming the Grim Reaper’s graduate. Different emotions roll inside me. If I pass, Grim will release the souls of my family, and I will be able to spend more time with them. If I don’t… well, let’s just hope I do.

The last 500 words:

It is official. The After World of Shadow and Light is changing. All because I couldn’t bring myself to do what was expected of me; to collect Kim’s soul.

I close my eyes, and drop my head in my hands. The weariness of the past weeks comes crushing down on me. I squeeze my eyes shut, as recent events threaten to rip my heart apart.

I straighten as light footfalls fill the silent space of the cave we have been hiding in, and take deep breaths, and brush at my eyes with the my hands.

Kim shouldn’t see my like this. Not when his world is falling apart as mine is.

I tense as his arms slip around my waist pulling me back to him. My body stirs at the feel of his warm and secure presence. I lift my head, and peek over my shoulder at him.
“Hey,” I say, forcing a smile.

He lifts a hand and touches my face. “You’ve been crying.”

Instead of answering, I avert my face, and stare out of the mouth of the cave.

“Ana, look at me.”

I can’t. I am afraid if I do, I will be bawling mess.

His hands leave my waist, and I feel him shift. He sits in front of me, lifts my hands from my knees and laces his fingers with mine. He rubs his thumbs on the back of my hands in slow, circular motions. And just like that, all tension fades from my body. I sigh, and shift my gaze to his face, taking in the contours of his profile in the dim light.

“You’re stubborn, lovable, irritating, and strong.” This is not what I expect to hear. I open my mouth, a retort ready on my lips, but he cuts me off with a quick brush of his thumb on my lips. “Hush, Ana. You saved my soul instead of collecting it, even though I’m not worth it. Grim still holds the four souls of your family. So you don’t need to pretend for my benefit.”

Images of the last time I saw my family before Grim reclaimed their souls again flash in my mind. How can I tell Kim I couldn’t choose his soul or my family’s? That I tried and found myself fighting for breath every single time?
I clench my jaw, and lift my chin. “I’ll retrieve my family’s souls back. Even if it means treading the Shadow realm.”

“Trade mine for theirs.”

My stomach clenches, my heart rattles painfully inside my chest. “No.”

He inches closer, his face mere inches from mine. “All right, Soul Collector. It’s you and me then.”

He leans forward, his gaze locked on mine, and brushes his lips on mine. I sigh and he deepens the kiss.

Even with the world falling apart, and the Realm threatening to bleed into my world, I take comfort in his love and kiss. For now. I take the strength he offers me, and I offer him mine.

The Endings #18

2012-01-11T10:24:00.006-06:00

Name: Jordan Mierek

Title of manuscript: TABITHA’S DEATH

Description: With blood dripping from her wrists, seventeen-year-old Tabitha hopes to find peace in death. Instead, the Gray Man sucks her into his kingdom, where she must obey him to fully die.

The Gray Man sends suicide victims to steal enchanted items he needs for his return to his homeland. Tabitha must cheat and steal –even commit murder – or face physical pain and mental torment. She soon realizes the life she left is the only thing she desires when the Gray Man shows her mother’s suffering. Tabitha’s only hope to return home is to destroy the Gray Man by absorbing his powers, but that might make her the new Gray Man.

500 words:

It would be so easy to kill myself now and there would be no Gray Man to whisk me away to a world of undead. I could slit my wrists again, or drink some antifreeze. I could make a list of all the ways. I had made that list, once upon a time. The chances were limitless, and yet where was the fun in that? There would be no Gray Man. It would be the end, officially, and I wouldn’t come back.

I’d get to know what was on the other side of life, and whether I liked it or not, I wouldn’t come back. I wouldn’t know what future I might have had. I wouldn’t know the laughter, none of the happiness. So what if there were some tears? There was always brightness, always a joy, and those times are what make life worth it. Those moments were what I had to live for, the curiosity to see what fate held out for me.

Sometimes, you had to live for someone else.

I fetched the plastic bucket for washing the car from the garage and filled it with water in the bathroom sink, adding cleaning liquid and rags, a couple sponges. I dropped the bucket on my bedroom floor, fished out a soapy sponge, and washed my blood off the wall.

“Tabitha?”

My hand slipped. No.

Slowly, I turned my head to look over my shoulder. Devin stood in the doorway blinking rapidly. He rubbed his hand over his mouth, gripping the wall with his other.

“Devin?” My tongue was so dry I could spit cotton. No way, he was gone. He couldn’t stand in my house.

“I, um… I realized as long as I have one good thing, I can stand living.” His smile appeared sheepish. When he took a step forward, he wavered unsteadily.

“But you left. You died,” I squeaked.

“I didn’t get far before I realized I couldn’t.” He coughed. “I couldn’t leave you, Tabitha.”

As I launched myself into his arms, knocking him into my desk chair, I saw the Scholar’s image appear in my mirror. He smiled and lifted his hand in a wave. Then, he winked, and I realized he’d brought Devin to me.

“You were one of those original brothers, weren’t you?” I asked the Scholar. “You and the Gray Man?”

He nodded.

“But he turned evil and you…you became a recluse,” I finished, unable to think of a better word.

This time, he smiled.

“Thank you for bringing me back life,” I whispered, and the Scholar nodded again.

I couldn’t wait to hug my mom and tell her about what had happened. I might have lost Bhuvana, but we had always been different; the biggest difference now lay in our fates. She had been careless, reckless, and she’d died. I would be more careful and live. Just because she was dead, didn’t mean I didn’t get to keep living.

Never had I looked forward to the future so much.

The Endings #19

2012-01-11T10:24:00.005-06:00

Name: Ashley Maker

Title of manuscript: Under the Trees

Description:

Falling in love isn’t easy when it’s challenged by a brutal duke, a murderous king, and the threat of war between kingdoms. But true love doesn’t care about convenience, and it certainly has no aversion to danger. When Princess Araya flees an arranged marriage to Duke Peter, her only goal is freedom, even if that means she must evade her father’s armed guards—men under strict orders to carry out her capture. She never counted on falling in love with the man who rescues her.

Prince Thoredmund, the neighboring kingdom’s crown prince, quickly learns that the role of prince in shining armor isn’t quite what it’s made out to be, and now he must deal with the consequences of harboring a fugitive when visitors arrive at the castle, spewing kidnapping accusations and demanding the return of their princess. Thor’s going to have to make a choice—risk his kingdom or turn Araya in.

Last 500 words:

After making sure I was comfortable in the carriage, Father went to fetch his horse. The moment he left, Thor climbed in with me and smiled. He was not alone. To my delight, I saw that Marek wriggled in his arms. The black dog wagged his tail when he saw me and leaned forward to lick my fingers.

“You didn’t tell me he lived!” I laughed as I ruffled the soft fur under his ears, mindful of the jagged line of stitches on his skull and across his shoulder.

“I didn’t want to give you false hope,” Thor said. “We didn’t think he was going to pull through, he lost so much blood, but I wanted you to see him before you left.”

He placed Marek on the floor of the carriage, and the big dog sat down in front of me, placing his head on my lap.

“I’m glad you brought him to say goodbye.”

Thor’s smile disappeared. “This isn’t goodbye.”

I met his eyes and saw a determination there that lifted my heart.

“When will I see you again?”

“Soon,” he said, “I promise.” Reaching down to his belt, he unclipped something and held it out to me.

It was the ram’s horn he’d given me that day at the inn.

“Until I can give you something better.”

I wrapped my hand around the handle and held onto it tightly, wishing I had something to give him in return. My eyes lit up. “Would you please hand me my bag?”

Raising an eyebrow, Thor reached down and retrieved the bag at my feet. He set it next to me, and I rooted around in it until I found what I was looking for. There was very little to search through, so it didn’t take long. With a deep breath, I brought out the little music box and handed it to him.

“Araya, no…” He tried to give it back.

“Take it,” I said. “I want you to have it.”

He tucked it to his chest and leaned closer. “I’ll make sure to return it the next time I see you.”

“Soon,” I repeated, my breath catching on the word.

Thor smiled before leaning in to kiss me. His lips were warm on mine; they were gentle. Time seemed endless, as if the world had stopped spinning. I sighed into the kiss, giving myself over to the dizzy sensation. Nothing had ever felt this right, and I had a feeling that nothing ever would.

When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against mine, and I knew that he was right. This couldn’t be goodbye—it couldn’t end like this. I hadn’t come to Braythel looking for love, but here he was, and I wasn’t ready to let him go. I closed my eyes, already wishing for tomorrow. Until then, I would think of our time under the trees.

The Endings #20

2012-01-11T10:23:00.002-06:00

Name: Lisa Terry

Title: White Star

Summary: After living sixteen years with her too-good-for-emotion mother, Kara comes alive when she moves in with her grandfather, only to shut down again when her grandpa and her boyfriend, Phaethon, die in a plane crash. Lane, Kara’s only friend, wants to end these visits, and Kara is split between two former best friends. Her indecision reaches a peak when an evil spirit arrives, looking like Phaethon. The echo, sticks close to his parallel, roaming the beaches for anyone to see, including the grieving, and makes Lane a target of its aggression. Kara can’t deny the obvious after watching the echo drag Lane through the sand by his neck, almost killing him. Kara’s options: Tell her boyfriend goodbye or hold on tight. If she lets Phaethon go, she’ll lose herself all over again. If Kara keeps him, the echo will finish his job on Lane and Kara will lose him too.

Last 500 words:

Oh, well. Water under the bridge. I just wished I could find a way for Lane to forgive Jude now. Shannon never had held a grudge.

“What did he say that wasn’t true?” she had said about Jude. “At least he came to me and apologized, Lane. No one else did, and they were talking about me too.”

He would come around. Especially if I did what I’d been thinking about doing. Merrick’s home-life was getting more and more impossible. She delivered the babies a month early, and she had a few medical problems at first. Then there was the grief of giving her babies up for adoption. From what I could tell, she received almost no sympathy at home. I considered renting her a room. No one had asked me, but I figured it was the perfect solution.

“Kara, you want anymore marshmallows before we go,” Shannon called from behind me.

“No way. I’m stuffed.” I had drifted away from them and peered through the thin trees at the pink sky.

“Gotta go,” Lane said coming up behind me. “It’s getting dark quick.”

The sun had begun to sink into the horizon, igniting the sky in varying shades of yellow, orange, pink and red.

“Thinking about Phaethon?” Lane asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” I answered lightheartedly. Soft, slow pats from a drum resounded in my head.

“What would you say to him if you knew he’d hear it?”

In the past few months, something inside me had slowly begun to change. I hadn’t stopped mourning the loss of Phaethon, but the change had come in a newfound respect for small moments. I remembered one night Phaethon told me I was beautiful on the inside. To any outsider it would likely sound corny, but to me it was a small piece of bliss that I filed away in my heart. He knew me. He really knew me and was proud of me.

I’d come to appreciate the time I had with him instead of being resentful of the time that was taken away. I learned so much about myself because of him. He taught me that there was such a thing as true love and that I was capable of it. The days of being angry at him for making me fall in love were long gone. The love I had and still have for him only made my life richer—more complete.

“I would say…‘Thank you.’” I turned around just then and saw twin pools of confusion in Lane’s eyes. The drum’s cadence quickened.

He loved me—I was almost sure of it. It wasn’t a love that one friend feels for the other, either. I didn’t know when this bit of information started sinking into my head, but it had. Would he ever own up? I refused to push him. So, we might only be friends forever. I could deal with that, right?

The Endings #21

2012-01-11T10:21:00.002-06:00

Name: Keisha
title:ETERNALLY

150 word description
Seventeen -year old Soreise Morgan obsessed with classic Jane Austen’s novels, loses sight of reality and immense herself in the fictional world to cope with her alcoholic and neglectful mother. Her reality is distorted when she begins to obsess about being part of the world and all her problems would be gone, believing the only way she could enter Jane Austen’s world, is through death Soriese makes a grave decision and in Bath, England, Soriese jumps off a cliff but, instead of entering the fictional world she ends up in the eternal realm and has to get someone from the mortal world to remember her, which will enable the fates to give her a second life; things don’t quite go that way when dark entities shake things up and the fates instead burden Soriese with a quest to kill the evil Morgath and save the other realms from her wrath.

ENDING 500 words
When they returned onto the road, they were confronted by Jared, a red-eyed pale Jared.

“You deceived me.”

Soriese looked at the others. They were speechless staring at Jared.

“You’re not real. You were killed. I killed you, you’re supposed to be in the underworld.”

“What appears may not always be what it seems, your heart quickly has led to Josh, I will enjoy the moment when he dies.” Josh maneuvered in front of Soriese. “He’s a demon. All that happened when you killed Morgath it was like a mirage lies. He is working for her. He gave his soul to Morgath, and whatever you do don’t second guess his intentions that he is heart stricken for you, he will kill you in a heartbeat.”

“How many times must you die? I loved you, still love you.” Jared smiled. His red eyes glowed like fire.” He took out his dagger. “Would you kill your first love?” He changed now looking like how he did when they were in Bath, England, he moved toward Soriese, and instantly she felt enchanted by him. The yell from the others was blocked out. “That’s it ignore them come into the darkness, we will have a future together forever”

“You’re not real. I killed you.” Soriese was back in Bath, England in the park with Jared. She knew it wasn’t real and as much as it pained her. She had to fight to come out of the trance.

“Jared, I did love you but not anymore.” Jared lunged at her, his hand tightly around her neck.

She returned to the Eternal realm. She pierced the dagger in Jared’s chest, who belted out a loud scream and then exploded and his remains broke down into tiny molecules and disappeared.

Soriese fell onto her knees hands placed on her head, her insides raw with intense emotion. She felt as if everything around her was spinning—she felt out of control she screamed. “I feel like I’m going crazy, what is real, what’s not?” Josh approached Soriese and tried to comfort her, but she moved away flaring up her hands, “I need space. Jared is gone and I freaking don’t know if that means forever, Josh made another attempt. Amethyst felt she should’ve been by Soriese side, but she was caught up in her own emotions as well, Josh mentioned they are in the heart of the storm, and before they see sunlight, they will endure plenty of heartbreak.

“I don’t want to hear your metaphors. I don’t know what to do, do you all hear me? We are all burdened on a quest where we at any time will be tested, seeing Jared as a demon was worse than when I killed him, I don’t know if he’s even dead, where is the boy I fell in love with?”

Amethyst approached Soriese. She had regained composure, and in this moment she had to be strong and support her friend, who she had formed a close bond with.

The Endings #22

2012-01-11T10:20:00.002-06:00

: Name: Carolyn Chambers Clark

Title of manuscript: GHOST STORY

Description:

Part-time nurses' aide, seventeen-year-old Samantha McQueen, swears she killed a man in the morgue of the Georgia State Mental Hospital. The police can't find a body and warn her not to call again, or she'll be arrested for interfering with police business.

This isn't the first dead body that's disappeared on Samantha. Aiden, the police sergeant's son tells her she has gift that'll help them. She visits a psychiatrist, tries rune reading, and even delves into the BOOK OF THE DEAD. Nothing works. She must also help her Momma pass over. To complicate things, she's assigned a death and dying school project with none other than Aiden as her partner.

When Aiden's Aunt Cinda tells Samantha she must help the undead cross over before Christmas, she hurries to understand her abilities before the portals at Wal-Mart close until the next holiday season.

The last 496 words...

"I hope they made it, Momma."; "Don't worry, they did. If you look up and squint, you can see through the roof and all the way up to the stars. See that new one that's blinking? Miranda and Simon just arrived."; A great feeling of peace flows over me, and my mind clears for the first time in a long time. "What about Simon? Is he gone now, too?"; "Yes, honey. Simon had to help Miranda cross over. Sometimes animals lead the way."; "What does that mean?"; "You'll find out, honey. Let's go."; I blink and I'm back by Aiden's side, handing him a string of lights to decorate the tree, and Momma's chattering away to Cinda again. I wonder if they're talking about Daddy.; He comes into the room, holding Sylvie's hand and Callie walks behind, her hair gleaming, smile on her face. They all walk toward Momma and embrace. Daddy and Callie must see Momma now. We're all together again, plus we have Cinda.; Sondra and Brittany come in, they're both in red and Sondra's wearing a Santa hat and carrying boxes of candy canes. Brittany hangs back. She's probably never been in a mental hospital before, but Sondra looks around and touches the tree, the table, and then gives me a hug. "This is so much fun. I can hardly wait to sing 'Silent Night' to all the crazy ladies."; "You would. We don't call them crazy ladies."; "Oh, I know, I'm just saying it to scare Brittany."; Sylvie comes over. "Aren't we going to sing carols and show the tree to all the patients?"; "Yes, we are, sweetheart. In just a minute."; From out of nowhere, Aiden hands me a pot with a red ribbon around it. "Merry Christmas, Samantha."; I inhale the scent of lavender and let the leaves tickle my nose. "Merry Christmas, Aiden. You remembered." The gift is bittersweet now that Christmas is almost here, and Momma will be leaving.; Nurse Patchett comes by, shaking a string of jingle bells and wearing mistletoe in her hair. When she stops near the tree, I pull Aiden next to her.; "Merry Christmas, Samantha." His lips feel so soft and warm when they close over mine, and I'm not a bit embarrassed.; We go over to my family, and Momma puts her hand on my shoulder. "I won't see you for a while, honey. I have to make a trip to Walmart, the hardware section."; "Don't leave, Momma." My heart's breakin' again, and I grab her hand. A wave of sadness slips from inside my heart and settles like sand in my feet.; "I have to leave, honey. I'm sorry, but it's my time to cross over. You have Cinda now and y'all be fine. All y'all will be fine. She's a wonderful person. And you have Aiden, too."; Momma fades away, and I choke back my tears. Still, deep inside, I feel hope, knowing there are three new stars in the galaxy tonight.

The Endings #23

2012-01-11T10:19:00.003-06:00

Name: A.E. Martin
Title: Ravishing Midnight

Description:

After recovering from a heart transplant, Rieve returns to work as head Control Officer to the demons who are legally allowed to feed on the sex, blood, and emotions of human donors. In return, the witches can harness demon energy to strengthen their magic, which benefits the humans. Lately though, the witches’ magic has been going horribly awry, leading them to a deadly plan to overcome their dependency on demon energy.

When Rieve realizes she unknowingly received a demon’s heart, she uncovers the witches’ plot to destroy the demons using human/demon hybrids. Things are further complicated when Rieve finds her heart donor Haden, and realizes that his heart is keeping them both alive. However, the unique power Rieve gains through Haden becomes the strongest weapon against the witches, who don’t realize that eradicating the demons will destroy everything their magic is a part of, including Rieve’s new heart.

Ending:

“Fabulous,” I said. “Somehow while trying to save the whole damn country from destruction I’ve become tied to two demons, one of which I need to keep alive by feeding on the other.”

“It’s the best option,” Haden said. He could not have looked more amused. I wanted to slap him.
“It will be alright,” Lucen said. “We will figure out a way to manage this.”

“You realize that us getting close not only feeds Haden, which is freaky but I guess a lesser evil than me draining people for him, but also sets things on fire, right? And yet you’re oh so calm about this?”

“What can we do?” Lucen said simply. I looked from his calm expression to Haden’s amused one, and now wanted to slap both of them. Haden yawned again and stretched his arms above his head.

“Well, I think I’ll get back to my beauty rest,” he said. “If you two are going to try for another romp…well I suppose you won’t have to warn me, I’ll just know.” His laughter trailed him as he left the room, and I had to stop myself from running after him and kicking him in the nuts. Lucen took my hand and led me out of my smoky room and into his, which was a few doors down.

“Lucen…”

“Let’s not think about it,” Lucen said, pulling me onto the bed and wrapping his arms around me.

“You said you wanted to forget, so let’s go to sleep and forget for a while.” He kissed the back of my neck and snuggled against me. Slowly, the tension in my body drifted away, but I felt far from falling asleep.

“Just let it go for now,” Lucen whispered. “And pick it back up in the morning.”

It was quite the burden I’d have to pick back up in the morning. The witches were leaderless and scrambling, the demons were mostly massacred, the humans were scared and angry, and the Demon Council was still present, kept in check only by their fear of Haden’s power, which was a power he didn’t even have anymore because I did. Then there was the disturbing triumvirate I was now a part of with an incubus and the only demon/witch hybrid in existence, and I was the key in keeping us all together. I sighed, afraid that I would break under the strain of all of this.

As usual though, Lucen was very effective in making me feel as though everything would be okay. As his warm, sweet aura eased over me, I actually started to feel calmer, and less like my head was about to explode. We would figure it out; Lucen had said we would and I believed him. I lay there wrapped in Lucen’s arms, and eventually the soft beat of his heart against my back, and the rhythm of Haden’s heart in my chest lulled me to sleep.

The Endings # 24

2012-01-11T10:16:00.003-06:00

Hope Roberson
MY PROTECTOR: THE CALLING
As a teenager, Eri develops the calling—an internal link to the man-eating beasts plaguing the planet. She finds herself repeatedly drawn beyond the safety borders, driven by rage, hoping to satiate the bloodlust flooding her veins.
With villager deaths on the rise and beast encounters increasing, Eri knows she can help her people, she holds the calling just like the Protectors. But Protectors are men. She is not allowed the chance to join their ranks or study proper fighting techniques.
The link is growing within Eri, the connection beyond her control. She can’t hide the calling forever. Eri must secretly learn the skills to fight before ending up in the belly of a beast.

500 word ending:
“I love you Grayson.” I whispered the words so quietly I wasn’t sure I actually said them out loud.

Grayson set me back on my feet. His smile constricted my heart and confirmed my words were not just in my head.

We walked back to the porch, gripping each other’s hand with the fierce promise of togetherness. Grayson sat on the top step, pulling me next to him, claiming me with one arm while holding my hands in the other. I leaned against his warmth, savoring the scent of his clean shirt and ointment on his wound.
“I honestly thought I was going to have to be the one to break it to you both,” Finnley chuckled.
Grayson squeezed me tighter, his laugh vibrating through my body.

The summer sun fell through the sky as Finnley and Jen kept the conversation going. Grayson and I said little. It was almost too much to do more than sit there, relishing his hold, his squeezes, his kisses on my forehead, my cheek, even my lips right in front of Jen and Finnley.
My head swam with his closeness and nearly drowned in the events of the previous twenty-four hours.

Grayson was in love with me.

I killed a beast. I could handle the responsibility of being a Protector. I just needed the chance. I was capable of what the calling asked of me.

Someday everyone would know.

“What is it, Eri?” Grayson asked into my hair.

“Huh?” I tipped my head up to look at him.

“You keep sighing. I know there’s something buzzing around in your head.”

There were a million somethings buzzing around my head. I sucked in a huge breath and kissed him, still baffled I could do such a thing.

“Well?” He asked again, undeterred by my kiss.

A grin took over my face. “I killed a beast. By myself.”

Grayson’s eyes darkened. “I know.”

“I could be a Protector.”

His sigh pressed through me. “I know, but I don’t want to think about that.”

“What do you want to think about?”

A growl came from somewhere deep inside him. My body ignited before his mouth even touched mine. When he pulled back, I gasped at the wicked smile playing on his lips. “Only you, Eri.”

I buried myself into his side so he couldn’t witness the flush spreading over my body.

He leaned back and hooked a finger under my chin, tipping my head to make me look in his eyes. “You won’t stop, will you?” The emotion in his simple question cracked a line through my heart.

I stared at him, eyes wide, pooling with tears, terrified of my response, of his reaction. “I don’t think I can, Grayson.”

His silence trapped the breath in my chest. His lips pulled down, dragging his eyebrows with them, but his eyes never left mine. His eyes. They knew, they understood the calling doesn’t go away, could never stop.

“Then I’ll just have to be your Protector forever, Eri.”

The Endings Entry # 25

2012-01-11T09:48:00.004-06:00

Name: Stephanie S.

Title: The End World.

Description:

Eighteen-year-old Lana will do anything to honor her father, killed the day he discovered The End World, a devastated parallel planet. So, when Earth calls for prodigies to study and rebuild The End World, Lana packs up her kick-ass attitude and F-bomb slippery tongue to become a Spinner, traveling between the two worlds and escorting researchers throughout the devastated landscape.

Appointed as the youngest Headsquad, she agrees to set up a truce with the survivors' leader, but when she learns he’s the one who killed her father, she’s faced with a gut-ripping choice: follow orders and develop peace, or avenge her father’s death and risk war.

Ending:

“They’ll get through in 30 seconds or less,” Sal yelled from the door.

My dad perked up, almost falling in the process as his muscles gave out, still not thawed all the way.

“Done!” He turned away, a radiant smile on his face when an intermittent beep came over the speakers. A pop-up message appeared on the screen. “Oh no! No no no,” my father cursed, his brow
wrinkled. “Don’t you do this to me!” Still he typed frantically. His shoulder slouched and I knew it wasn’t a good sign.

“What is it?” I asked pushing him out of the way. I read the message.

Override command accepted. Manual sequence required.

“Dad, what does it mean?” He didn’t respond. I shook his shoulder. “What does it mean?”

He looked at me, his face grave. “Someone needs to stay. By using the backdoor and overriding Hawson’s codes, I made it impossible for the automatic sequencer to kick-in. Someone needs to be left behind. I’m sorry.”

Alex stepped forward. “I’ll stay. Just tell me what to do,” he nodded. I loved him for it.

“No you’re not! They’ll kill you!” I stepped in front of him, my hand on his chest. He grabbed my hand lightly and kissed it.

”Someone needs to stay. You both need to go. Your dad is the only proof that what you say is true. I’m not even sure I’ll get through. For all we know, my double is alive on the other side.”

“But it’s worth a try.” I exclaimed. I wasn’t about to lose him again. “And we need you to prove that a truce is possible. You will be the first survivor to ever see Earth.”

Sal appeared, no longer guarding the door. “She is Headsquad, Sam is needed, Alex you are mandatory. I’m not. I stay behind.”
The voices on the other side of the wall were getting louder. The hissing had stopped and the pounding had restarted. This meant one thing, they were a few metal threads away from breaking in.

My dad and Alex ran to the center of the room. My eyes anchored on Sal’s, tears already blurring his image. I hugged him for a second that was way too short.

“I love you Lana,” he whispered in my ear.
But before I could say anything, Alex grabbed my hand. “Come on, time for me to discover your world,” he said.

I intertwined my fingers in his and closed my eyes, focusing on his skin against mine before letting go. The lightheadedness started, a twist in the stomach and my ears popped. I stopped breathing for a second. I didn’t want to open my eyes. If I opened them, I might not find Alex standing next to me. Fingers intertwined in mine and I smiled. I could have picked Alex's hands among a thousand. He was facing me, a twinkle at the corner of his eyes. Thoughts of what was going on around me finally reach me, invading the silence of my previous fear.

We're through

I was too aware of the odds Alex just beat by being able to spin to Earth. Somewhere, somehow, his Earth double had died and I was shamelessly glad.

I knew that I didn’t care what would come next. Alex was with me and we could take on the world, literally.

The Endings Contest is now closed

2012-01-09T09:23:00.002-06:00

Put those breaks on. The contest is closed.

"So, Eb, what's gonna happen next?" ya might be wondering.

This is what's going to happen next.

Within the next couple of day--don't worry, I will tweet and facebook--I will post every single entry up so that each of you (the participants) can leave comments on three or more entries.

No, I did not make it one of the rules, but it is always nice to get feedback.

And for those of you who know me, or joined in my contests before, I'm all about learning. And becoming a writer is a nonending learning experience. By reading other people's entries and by critiquing it a bit, you learn things that you can incorporate into your own writing.

Plus, it will give us something fun to do while we wait for Lauren. See *taps finger against temple* always thinking.

So, by Wednesday (maybe Thursday), I will have all the entries up and ready to go.

Thanks so much for participating. I'm excited to see what happens next.

The Endings

2012-01-02T13:47:00.006-06:00

First I want to wish you all a Happy New Year! I hope that all your hard work comes to fruition.

Now to the contest as promised.

So far, I've done all about the firsts---first page, first romance, first paragraph of second chapter. So, I thought it'd be fun to do the ending.

I chose the ending this time because nothing is more satisfying than reading a great book that ends so awesome that it leaves you...well, satisfied. *smile*

And as the prize, my super awesome agent extraordinaire, Lauren Hammond, is donating her time by giving a first page critique as the prize.

Um...YAY!!!!!!

Go check out Lauren's interview here.

Okay...now to the rules.

1) You have to follow my blog.
2) That's it.

Format your entries as such:

Name: Wanda Writer (Only put your name)

Title of manuscript: The Bestest Book In the Whole World (Only put your title)

150 word description of your story: You know, so we kinda know what's going on.
An example: After years of looking for the big red button to destroy the world, the people of the earth decided living was better than being charcoal briquets and decided it was best to actually not push it. (Only put your description here)

500 word of your super, duper, awesome ending (Please note, this should be the last 500 words of the last chapter. Not of the epilogue.) : 501 words will be to many, 499 words will be up to you, but probably appreciated.

Please post all entries in the comment section.

Contest ends January 8th at midnight. Any entries after that date will be disqualified.

Okay all!! Let's see how your book ends.

Good luck!

Meet Agent Lauren Hammond

2011-12-19T08:16:00.009-06:00

I know, I know it has been forever since I’ve blogged. And so many exciting things have happened over the last few weeks. First, I was offered then accepted representation for PERFECTION.

Um…SQUEE!

Then I got busy going through the whole book… again. LOL! Then a synopsis write and sweat for the sequel, FLAWED (tentative book title). Fell behind on my beta reading for my friends.

Anyway, those are my excuses and I’m sticking to them.

As I said, I accepted representation from the most awesome Lauren Hammond. And here is an example of how hardworking she is. I’ve already received 6 requests from publishing houses. Lauren Rocks!!

So, now….

Interview first!!

A hardy round of applause for Lauren Hammond.

Lauren is a superagent extraordinaire at the wonderful ADA Management. And she is also an author. Best of both words. You can find her on twitter @NovelistLauren Oh and follow her blog Living in Literary La La Land.

Now let’s get to know her.

Tell us a little bit about yourself…

Hi everyone! First of all, thank you so much for having me on the blog today!

A little bit about me hmmmm. Well, I’ve been writing pretty much since I’ve been able to hold a pencil. I’m overly enthusiastic. I always try to be positive, even when I have to be negative if that makes any sense. And I interned with ADA for a year before landing my job as an agent—which I also love!

First thing that pops into your mind time... No cheating.

Favorite dessert?

OHHH tough one! I’m a sucker for ice cream. Any kind will do, but my fav is butter pecan. Yum!

What is the first thing you notice on the opposite sex?

Smile.

Water or wine?

Depends. Water on weekdays. Wine on the weekends. LOL.

Tell us about the most awkward date you ever experienced?

Honestly, I’ve never had an awkward one.. I should probably knock on wood somewhere for that, lol.

Chocolate or Vanilla?

Vanilla.

If you were alone on a deserted island, what is the one book you would like to be in your limited supplies?

One… Just one? Come on! Can’t I have two?

Alright… Alright… If I had to pick one it would be Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Thanks for sharing!!!!

Now to the agenting questions…

Can you tell us a little bit about ADA Management?

ADA is a newer company, but over the last three years we’ve held our own. We have a talent division, screenwriting division, literary division, even a publicity division.

If you want to know more you can check out our website at the link above.

How did you become an agent?

I interned for ADA for a year before I became an agent. My job was mainly reading through manuscripts..(a slush pile shoveler), and looking for inconsistencies in the manuscripts. After doing that for a year I was offered a position as Executive Literary Manager, which I happily accepted.

I understand that you have recently made your first two sales—how exciting is that? Can you share a little bit about those or still too early?

Make that three J. I can’t say too much because none of them have been announced yet, but be sure to keep an eye out. You’ll see them and read about them very soon.

WOW!! Three!! As I said, Lauren rocks! My fingers are crossed. LOL!!

What is the most thrilling aspect of your job?

Reading. I love..love..love to read. And I get super excited when I fall in love with a project… That makes the phone call I get to give the author that much sweeter.

What would you love to see cross your desk right now?

I’m obsessed with dark and creepy. Any kind of YA or MG horror novel is something I’m dying to read. Anything boundary-pushing too. I’d also really like some swoon-worthy YA romances packed with some tension and angst.

What is your ratio of queries to requests?

Well, I’ve been agenting for nine months and I only represent nine people. So I think that says enough. I’m extremely selective. Like most agents I want that I have to have this feeling. Or I love it so much I can’t stop reading.

Sometimes you don’t get that feeling as often as you’d like it.

When you do request a manuscript, do you usually request fulls or partials? And why?

Depends. I usually request a partial first and I’ll explain why below.

How soon do you expect to be hooked by requested material?

I almost always request a partial first because if I’m not hooked within the first three chapters, it’s a no-go for me. If I’m still intrigued by the end of the first three chaps, I’ll ask for the full and continue reading.

As an agent, do you mind doing edits?

Developmentally, no. If there are areas that need work within the manuscript I don’t mind suggesting things that might help make it stronger.

When you are reading a manuscript that you have an interest in, do you make notes of things that you would like to change or editing remarks?

Yes, actually. If there is an area that’s not working I’m going to let the writer know. Also, if they do make the changes, I’ll give them a chance to re-submit. We all believe in second chances don’t we?

Would you care to share a typical day of what you do when you take your agent hat off?

When I take the agent hat off, I’m either writing or reading. LOL. And when I’m not doing that I’m spending time with my family. We’re a very close bunch and sadly we don’t get to see each other as often as we’d like to.

What is the best information you could pass on to aspiring writers?

Please. Please. Please. Don’t ever listen to anyone when they tell you to give up. I think everyone finds their voice in their own time and that can’t be rushed. I also think if I would have listened to the people who told me to give up at one point I don’t where I’d be. I always like to tell writers to hang in there, be patient, work on your craft. Believe me… Your time will come.

Thank you so much for visiting Lauren. You are absolutely the best!

Thank you sooo much for having me! This was super fun! <3

Lauren will be hosting a contest for me on January 2^nd. So stay tuned.

Winner Announced

2011-10-03T12:00:00.002-05:00

Okay!!!

The winner is announced.....

But first, I just want to thank you all for participating and putting themselves out there. Part of the writing process, you know. I hope this was a learning experience for all. It was fun seeing something else besides the first page. And, I happen to love to have my toes curl. :)

I'd really like to do something like this again, but maybe next time we will do ACTION!!

I also want to thank all the great ladies from Oasis for YA for devoting their time to this. Thanks!!!!

Now the time we've been waiting for. (Trumpets sound)

THE WINNER IS....

Melinda Williams, CHARGERS! *Confetti and balloons fall on contestants head*

Tears build while I crawl through the tunnel. Barely to my feet in the janitor’s closet, a hand pulls me into the dark corner. As he presses my back against the wall his scent gives him away.

“Andre?” My voice cracks. Dang it.

“How did you know it was me?”

I can’t see his face in the dark, but it must be close because his words brush my cheek. “It’s not hard to guess when you’re so close.”

“Should I back up?”

“I uh…I dunno.” I sniff back the tears that didn’t get to fall.

“You’re upset.” He touches my hair and my muscles tighten.

“I’m just sick of everyone thinking I don’t belong here.”

“I don’t think that.” Now his mouth feels close to my ear.

“Ya, right, I’m not stupid. You’re harder on me than anyone.”

He’s silent for a long time. I swear my heartbeat is loud enough to hear. It only gets worse when his hand rests on my side where prickles break loose. “No, I hate to give you low scores. I just want you to fight harder.”

“I’m trying.” The words are shaky, but I’m surprised they form at all because his fingers are twisting the hair at the back of my neck. I push his hand away. “If you’re trying to distract me, you’re doing a great job. If you want me to understand anything you say, you better stop touching me.”

His hands drop.

“I need sleep.” I shake my head and take a step toward the door.

“No, stay. I want to talk about something else”

“Why?”

“So, you’ll let me touch you.” He pulls me back against the corner, voice thick.

“That isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.” He rests both hands on the wall around me.

“You’re acting weird.”

“I know, but I’m drawn to you like I’ve never been drawn to anything.” He swallows hard. “Trust me, this is not my sort of thing. But I’m sick of fighting it. Everything has been about you for so long. I can’t hide it anymore.”

His hands search me in the dark. Running up my arms, over my shoulders, cupping my neck. His thumbs run along my jaw until my chin is trembling. He drops his forehead to mine. His breathing is sharp, matching my own, but the pounding in my ears is so loud I can barely hear anything else.

“Simone,” he whispers before his lips finally close over mine. They’re so warm. His palms circle my neck and pull me in. I think my hands are somewhere near his chest. I always imagined my first kiss as awkward, slobbery, and rushed. Nothing like this.

He pulls back, but barely. I still feel his hot breath on my mouth.

“This can’t be real,” I whisper.

“It feels real to me.” His fingers run through my hair and pull me in again. This time he presses harder. “If this isn’t real, nothing is,” he says resting his lips against my cheek.

******

Love the part in red above. Nicely done, Melinda!! If you could please email me your first ten pages, I will make sure the girls get it. Hope your email is ready for all the feedback.

Thanks so much to everybody. I had a lot of fun with this contest and I'll be announcing more soon.

STOP--1st To Make Our Toes Curl Contest

2011-09-25T09:32:00.004-05:00

Voting time is now over.

It seems the readers choice is post #3, Rachel McClellan, THE DEVIL'S ANGEL. I must admit that was pretty toe curling.

BUT,

The voting doesn't stop there.

Now it's time for the entries to go to the ladies from OASIS FOR YA.

As soon as they review all the entries, I will let you know the winner.

That being said, please stop by their blogs. Maybe even follow. They are wise, wise, wise. You can find the links here

And be sure to leave a comment below this post thanking them for their time.

Voting Time for 1st To Make Our Toes Curl Contest

2011-09-18T21:38:00.006-05:00

As promised, even though a tad later than I anticipated, the entries are up. If you notice a mistake on your entry, please leave a comment below this post so that I can fix it up for you.

This was a very fun contest and I want to thank everyone who entered.

I was very impressed with the entries for this contest. I had to put splints on my toes to straighten them back out.

Rules:

Voting Time: Starting now and ending Saturday, Sept 24th.

1) If you entered then please choose three entries that are your favorite. Please do not leave comments for any other entries except the ones that you have chosen. The comment equals one vote.

2) In the comment section tell the author what you loved about their entry.

3) If you made our toes curl in 250 words or less, you get an extra vote.

4) If you are a visitor, please follow the same rules as above.

As a side note: Since you are picking the ones to go to the next round, please read all the entries before you choose your favorites. That way it is fair for all the authors.

Another side note: The whole learning aspect of this contest was so that people could see what the voters liked about the passage. This might give you ideas on how to really make the readers go WOW.

Hugs to all. Good luck!

Sabrina--post 1

2011-09-18T21:38:00.001-05:00

Title: Falling
Genre: Fantasy
Email: rainbow.starlight AT yahoo DOT com

I turned around. “Jack?”

A corner of his mouth slightly turned up, his once vibrant blue eyes deep with sadness. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, the words almost coming out as a whisper.

He shook his head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, Kat.”

Tears slid down my cheeks. I vigorously tried to rub them away. My throat closed up and started to make that weird hiccupping noise. Pathetic, Kat.

Jack had stepped forward but I pushed him away. It was already too embarrassing. “I’m sorry. It’s okay, it’s okay!”

“It’s not okay, Kat.” He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply before he continued, “I wish I could go with you. If there was a way, I would find it. I want to be with you, Kat. I love you.”

Time froze in that moment. Millions of thoughts went through my mind in the space of a second. Staring seems to be the only thing I could do. This couldn’t possibly be real. Jack couldn’t. The only thing this could be is a dream. I held my breath, hoping, waiting.

He sighed and turned away, obviously misinterpreting my silence. “I’m sorry. That was—”

I pressed my lips together before bursting out in laughter. A wide, silly grin stretched across my face. “All we can say is sorry. That’s it. You also have nothing to be sorry for because…” My hands rushed to cover my mouth. I can’t say that.

A voice deep inside my mind whispered, Why not?

Cheeks burning, I said the words that I never thought I would say to him, only think. “I love you!”

Rachel McClellan--post 2

2011-09-18T21:37:00.001-05:00

Title: FRACTURED LIGHT
Genre: Urban fantasy
Word count: 312

Christian handed me a small, unwrapped box.

"I really wished you wouldn't have," I said as I opened it.

Inside was a silver necklace with what looked like a dog tag hanging from its chain. I pulled it out and tried to read the inscription. It read: Αντέξει μέχρι το τέλος.

"It’s beautiful. Thank you. What does it say?"

"Endure to the End in Greek."

I looked at it closer. "Endure to the end," I whispered. The metal tag had been etched in a circular pattern reminding me of the symbol for eternity.

I turned around. "Will you put it on me?"

He took the ends of the necklace, and, after pushing my hair to the side of my neck, fastened it.

"Why did you choose that inscription?" I asked.

His hands moved to my shoulders. "I know I don't act like it all the time, but you have no idea how much you mean to me." He swallowed. "I need you to endure, to do all that you can to see that you live a good long life. I couldn't bare it if anything were to happen to you."
His body moved close to mine.

In one swift motion I turned around and stared into his eyes. Any thoughts of him thinking I was like a sister were immediately erased. He was looking at me with such passion that I wondered how he was able to hide it for so long.

Christian leaned his forehead against mine and very slowly his hands moved to my waist. My lips parted and air escaped. The sound must’ve startled him because all of a sudden he froze and closed his eyes. His jaw muscles bulged.

"I'm going to go set up a game or something," he said and walked away.

"Can it be twister?" I called after him.

He didn't answer.

Rachel McClellan --post 3

2011-09-18T21:36:00.003-05:00

Title: THE DEVIL'S ANGEL
Genre: Urban fantasy
Word count: 215

He didn’t dare move. The sight of her in this place, meant only for the dead, entirely collapsed the world he’d so carefully created.

It was Eve who broke the spell first. She walked gracefully among the headstones, never lowering her eyes from his. Stopping mere inches from him, she tenderly took his hand in hers and moved it to her parted lips.

Lucien moaned in anguish. He couldn’t fight the attraction between them any longer. With both hands, he cradled Eve’s face. He leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed. She nuzzled him with her cheek and when he felt her warm breath, he let his lips touch hers. A warming sensation raced through his body as if hot water had been poured into him. His lips lingered, wanting to remember this moment forever. Then, hesitantly, his mouth began to move, and his tongue slid along her pink flesh. Eve pulled him closer.

With their bodies pressed tight, the gentle kiss turned into one of longing and passion. All external sounds joined the dead six feet under; even rain’s icy touch left them alone. Together they had created a place of light and beauty, one of peace and serenity. Their kiss lasted only moments, but the power it created transcended time and all eternity.

melinda--post 4

2011-09-18T21:36:00.002-05:00

Email: mbuttars83 (at) aol (dot) com
Title: Unsolved
Genre: YA PR
Set up: It’s the middle of the night, and it’s pouring rain. They’re at his family’s Maine estate where he just told her all his secrets and she finally understands him, but she's stressed so he's trying to help calm her mind.

He reached the driveway and turned. His eyes met mine briefly before he lifted his face to the rain and dark sky with his arms outstretched to both sides, palms up. Peace devoured me as I watched him soak in nature so pleasurably. His divine power seemed to glow around his noble stature. The most graceful thing I’d ever seen.

I had to join him.

When I stood before him, I matched his position. Drops of water licked the skin on my arms, face, and neck. I closed my eyes and let the supremacy of Mother Nature clear my head. I focused my senses on the setting, not letting anything else in. The sound of the heavy rain hitting puddles, the feel of water cooling my flesh, the satisfying smell of refreshed life.

Every inch of my body relaxed, and all my anxiety evaporated. Christian had been right. It worked. So easily, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t been enjoying this part of the world before. For the time being, nothing mattered. Something so simple, so beautiful, was more powerful than any drug.

When I opened my eyes, Christian was watching me. His white shirt had become soaked and clung to his carved body. His dark hair, stuck to his forehead. Hunger pooled in his eyes.

“Nice, huh?” He stepped toward me. I stiffened, certain I didn’t look anywhere as good as he did completely drenched.

I nodded and folded my arms. His stare brought stars circling. He slowly got closer and closer.

“You should teach that to everyone,” I said.

“I just did,” he breathed near my ear and pressed his palms into the small of my back. I lost the ability to speak as my blood flowed in rapid speeds. He leaned into me and rested his forehead on mine. His warm breath tickled the bridge of my nose. Mine came out just as rapid and heavy—I needed the extra oxygen to stay conscious. “Touching you reminds me of heaven. Literally.”

My arms came up over his. My hands ran the length of his arms and stopped just under his shoulders, my fingers sneaking under the hem of his sleeves.

A moan rumbled from his throat. “Do you know how nervous that makes me?”

My grip loosened, and I tried to back off.

He pulled me closer. “No, don’t.”

My hands returned to him. I shuddered, sure I could pass out.

“This is the beginning of everything that matters,” he said before dropping his moist lips to mine. His hands moved the hair from the sides of my face and pulled me even closer, making each kiss more ardent than the previous.

My head fuzzed, and my hunger for him made my knees tremble. We’d never been this alone before. His eager hold said he noticed it too. The delight from my blossoming feelings only increased when I thought of how extraordinary Christian was and how he loved me. It quickly grew overwhelming, but in a good way.

erica and christy --post 5

2011-09-18T21:35:00.001-05:00

Name: Christy Hintz
Title: FIXING SHELBY
Genre: YA Contemporary
Email: nc_hintz(at)yahoo.com

Set up: This scene (323 words) is when Shelby and Dane share their first (forbidden) kiss. Shelby started dating the "guy of her dreams", Bryant, after crushing on him for the past two years, and Dane had always just been the annoying guy whose locker neighbored hers...until recently.

I stood up when he did, and before I turned back toward the house, he grabbed my hand.

“Shelby.”

I didn’t get a chance to look up and see his eyes before his lips were on mine. There was nothing shivering in me now. Instead, every part of me melted into him. His warm lips moved on mine. Mine followed right along. I wrapped my arms around him and slid my fingertips up into his hair.

Before I knew what happened, he pulled away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. You, you have—.”

Panic rushed to my head. “Bryant.” The panic dropped to my stomach and I felt sick. How could I go from feeling so happy and amazing to feeling the gut-clenching guilt I felt now? “I totally forgot about him.”

“I didn’t.” It came out in a whispered groan. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m a terrible person.” I tried to clear my head after having drunk up too much of the starry night and firelight.

He tugged on my hand and led me to the house. He stopped by the wood pile and faced me. Too close. I’d forget again in a heartbeat. I looked up at him and he looked down at me. The dark surrounded us, a blanket hiding us from the world.

“It wasn’t your fault. You—. I—. Damn. Shelby, I’ve—.”

I put my hand on his chest to stop him from saying whatever he was about to say. “No, it was my fault. A girl with a boyfriend shouldn’t act like this.” Shouldn’t feel like this. I took my hand off him and stepped away. “I have to go.”

He nodded and walked me to my car.

In silence.

After the door shut, I rolled down the window. “Thank you. I had a lot of fun.” Lame. I’d had more than fun. But what was there to say when it ended on such a bittersweet note?

~~Angela --post 6

2011-09-18T21:33:00.001-05:00

Title: ENVY
Genre: YA Fantasy
Email: peaceloveandteenlit@yahoo.com
Setup: Nate wants to hate Envy for what she is, half-Atlantean. But she has no clue of her heritage and that her people are planning to take over earth. He thought he could stay away, but he fell for her after being forced to spend time with her because his twin sister is Envy's only friend since she moved to Saint Simon's Island. They've spent the day together and now there's some romantic tension he wants to ignore.

“You have issues!” I shouted as he walked away. The rain was pouring down, soaking me. But I didn’t care. With my fists balled at my side, I closed the gap he’d put between us. The closer I got the more tense his muscles grew, straining the almost transparent fabric of his white t-shirt.

“Me?” he demanded without turning. By the way his body flexed, I could tell he wanted to run, but he owed me some answers and I was willing to tackle him if it meant he would stay.

“You saved me, pulling me out of the ocean that first day, then we had that collision in the hall… you treated me like The Plague. And then today you invited me to the water park while Paige had to work and we had fun. It was one of the best days of my life. You acted like I was a human being, and one you might like and now, now you’re back to hating me again. What happened? Is it because your sister is my best friend? Does this have something to do with Paige?”

Slowly, he turned to face me. Flashes of lightening illuminated the beautiful contours of his face, his taut jaw and rain-blackened hair. His eyes were closed at first. As he pried them open, I could see their beautiful green backlit with flames of anger.

“I wanted to hate you, tried to…” I kept waiting for a but “I’ve tried to…but.” It never came. Instead, he tried to hurt me further. “You think I’m the one with issues when you’re the one who refuses to touch anyone or let anyone get close to you!” Nate shouted, finally letting full emotion flavor his words. “That’s why Paige is the perfect friend for you! Neither of you ever let anyone in!”

He started to turn away again. With thunder booming and slices of lightening splitting the sky overhead, sizzling and crackling, it was like a furious symphony playing theme music to out argument.

“I would let YOU!” I finally screamed. “I would let you.”

I closed my eyes, exposing my emotions made me want to cry and knowing that he was probably running away as fast as he could make the tears fall faster, mixing with the rain sliding down my cheeks. When I opened them, Nate was strutting purposefully in my direction. I was shocked when he reached out, thinking he meant to hit me, that I’d made him that angry. But the light in his eyes was no longer the fire of fury, it was the blaze of passion that only grew brighter the closer his lips got to mine.

Without hesitation, I stretched up on my toes as he leaned down, cupping the back of my neck and the small of my back, pulling me to him, like he could press us together and make us one. It wasn’t gentle like I’d always thought my first kiss would be — if I ever had one. It was fervent and filled with emotions that we’d both been holding back.

A.E. Martin --post 7

2011-09-18T21:32:00.001-05:00

Title: Ravenous Dusk
Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy
Email: aje237@yahoo.com
Set up: Neither of them want to give in to their feelings, for different reasons: Kieran to protect her (MC: Blake), from something she doesn’t yet know about him, and Blake because she’s supposed to hate Kieran because of something he’d done to her. This is the first time they get close.

“You’re trembling,” Kieran said.

“Am I?” I asked. I hadn’t noticed. He moved closer then, and drew me into his arms.

“I’m sorry for the things you have to see,” he whispered. His breath tickled against my neck, and it made my body ache with something I tried to fight against. Despite myself, I found myself turning into the crook of his neck, lightly breathing in the scent of him. Could smell be described as dark? Because that was how Kieran smelled, deliciously dark. He pulled back slowly, his cheek brushing against mine as he did so.

“I would spare you from my world if I could,” he said. Damn it, he was too close, because I was barely hearing what he was saying, all I could think about was giving him permission to do whatever he wanted that involved those soft looking lips and my body. Kieran brought his hand up to cup my cheek, lightly brushing his thumb over my bottom lip, which he was staring at.

“I wish I could,” he said softly. Since he was touching my lip and staring at it, I was sure I knew what he was talking about.

“Why don’t you?” I found myself asking. I’d slap myself for that later. His eyes were back on mine, and I felt paralyzed. The air felt like it was getting thicker, and warmer. I myself felt burning hot, and it was all I could do to stop my hands from tugging up his shirt.

Rowenna --post 8

2011-09-18T21:31:00.000-05:00

Title: The Dispatch
Genre: YA Dystopian/Post Apocalyptic
Email: hyalineblue079 at yahoo dot com
The First: First time these two knuckleheads are honest with one another about how they feel.

I sink closer to Nick, and lean my head against his shoulder. He tenses.

“Don’t move. This doesn’t have to mean anything. Just…just don’t move.” I whisper into the night, as though I meant for the trees to hear, not him.

“I can’t.”

“I know. Please—I just need someone close, for a few minutes.”

“No—I can’t be close for just a few minutes.” He pulls back, but catches my face in his rough palm. “Damn it Cadia, I cared for you from the beginning. I didn’t want you coming with us because you make me—I act stupidly when you’re around. I take dumb risks. You know what the first thing was that I thought when you ended up with us that night? I thought, damn it all—I’ll have to watch her die.”

“There’s no reason to assume—“

“Yes, there is! There’s every reason to assume that any of us isn’t getting out of this. And I could handle that thinking about Vi or Kasha or myself, but not about you.”

I want to speak, to contradict him, but I can’t. Instead, I catch his face in both my hands and steady him. His cheeks are rough with several days of stubble, and I trace my thumbs over it as though I can smooth it away, smooth away the lines worry has creased between his eyes. I pull him into the moonlight with me, illuminating his face. He swallows hard—I can feel his jaw tense—and then he looks at me.

“That evening, in the lodge. Before they took you.”

I nod.

“I kissed you because I thought it was over. Because I thought they were going to…and I couldn’t imagine letting you go without having one—just one—moment like that together.”

He looks at me, defeated and defiant in one determined glance. Pressure—sweet, stifling and terrible—builds in my throat, and I capture his mouth with mine before I can stop myself. My arms are around his neck, my hands pressed into his matted hair. His body wraps around mine, engulfing me as he kisses back.

“Assets and liabilities,” I whisper as I free myself from his powerful embrace. “I think this is an asset.”

“You have no idea what kind of a liability this is,” he replies as he gathers my face in his hands and kisses me, fiercely. My hands move down his back, feeling the sinewy muscle flex beneath my hands, catching against the ridges of a deep scar on his shoulder. He leans into me, warm and real and as broken as I am, and then lays his head on my shoulder. I feel his breath against my neck and rest my cheek on his rough hair.

“We should either get some sleep or keep moving,” he whispers after a long pause.

Tish--post 9

2011-09-18T21:30:00.000-05:00

Title: Scent of a White Rose
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance
email: tishthawer@gmail.com
set-up: first time MC's see each other.

The guy smiled and I thought I would die.

Right then the clouds broke, and he looked like an angel bathed in moonlight. He was so gorgeous. He had to be about 6’ 2”, and solid muscle from the looks of him. Not bulky like those beefed-up body builders, but very athletic. Wide shoulders, broad chest, thin waist, and what I was sure would be strong, muscled legs. With the moonlight shining on him, I could see he had dark blonde hair, with golden highlights, cut shaggy and sharp. I hadn’t realized that I was half hanging out the open window of the limo, when he turned suddenly and looked right at me. I thought I would die… again!

His eyes were a so beautiful, and it felt like they were piercing me. They were an amber color, a rich brown with gold highlights, just like his hair, mixing together like swirled caramel and honey. He was amazing and the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

Right then Jill came barreling out of the nightclub with her escort closely behind her. She was saying something like, “I only wanted a quick shot”, the rest of us started laughing from the car. As she started to walk past the beautiful man, he reached out and tapped her gently on the shoulder. She stopped and he started speaking to her. She kept glancing at the car and back at him with a huge smile on her face, then he handed her something and disappeared back inside.

I was so anxious to see what this impossibly gorgeous guy had said to my friend. I was sure it had to do with her only using the facilities instead of being a paying customer or something like that, as it was obvious by the t-shirt he wore that had the club’s logo on it, that he worked there.

When Jill got in the car, she sat there for a moment with a “cat-ate-the-mouse” grin on her face and then she handed me a business card. It was shiny and smooth and had the nightclubs logo and name on the front. I turned it over and found a hand scribbled note that read, “The scent of a white Rose fills my nose. Innocent, sweet, and someone I’d like to meet.” ~ Christian

My mouth was gapping open, Jillian was still smiling at me and Penny and my other friends were already passing the card around reading the poem out loud.

Holy shit! Jill proceeded to tell me that he had asked her my name and then scratched out that poem so fast she could barely see his hand move. He had included his phone number on the back as well, and told her to have me call him after dark in 2 days. Which of course, I did.

Jenny --post 10

2011-09-18T21:29:00.002-05:00

: Email: jenny.kaczorowski@gmail.com
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Title: Rivers Underneath

“Beautiful night,” a voice spoke from the shadows. It sounded deep, firm, steady. Male.

Emma’s heart skipped and she drew toward the figure hidden beside the garage.

“Gabe?” She caught her breath as he stepped into a pool of light, tall and well muscled. The moonlight traced the edges of his face and reflected in his sun-kissed hair.

“Hi, Emma.”

Part of her wanted to rush forward and wrap her arms around his neck, but she refrained. They had both been children the last time they’d met and their friendship had been the innocent friendship of childhood. “I thought I saw you in the woods,” she said.

He hesitated. A whisper of uncertainty cracked through his quiet emotions, still so familiar and comforting in spite of the years they’d spent apart. His calm permeated the air around him and she felt like she could breath for the first time since he’d left.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” Emma said, instantly regretting her words. He didn’t need to know how she’d counted the years. “I mean, I haven’t seen you since you moved.”

Gabriel tentatively moved toward her. She could feel immense strength and vitality behind the steady, careful control of his movements, but stepped toward him.

“Five years is too long,” he said. “I started to forget.”

Emma smiled. “I haven’t forgotten you,” she said.

A small smile caught his lips. “I haven’t forgotten you either.”

Carrie-Anne -- post 11

2011-09-18T21:29:00.001-05:00

Title: Little Ragdoll
Genre: Contemporary historical women's fiction
E-mail: CarrieAnne79@yahoo.com

Setup: 18-year-old Adicia and 20-year-old Ricky were recently married in an convenience marriage to save Adicia from the much-older creep her parents were trying to force her to marry. Shortly after escaping Manhattan for Hudson Falls, NY, Ricky received a forwarded draft notice and will be going to Vietnam. They're in the Tunnel of Love at a county fair, and Adicia is offering her husband, who's in love with her, the chance to consummate their unconventional marriage before he has to leave in the morning. She has also just admitted she thinks she has a crush on him, even though she doesn't love him the way a wife loves a husband yet.

Adicia inches away from him. “Fine, if you’re not interested, you don’t have to accept my offer. I was just suggesting something I thought you might want while you still have the chance. I wasn’t gonna force you to do anything.”

He reaches over for her hand. “Hey, don’t be like that. You know I’d do anything to make you happy while I’m still here with you. I just know what happened to you with those two jerks before, and I need to make sure you’re offering this for the right reasons. I’ll still be your husband even if I go away without having consummated the marriage.”

She nods, looking ahead at the darkened water sadly. “Why does this water have to be so calm when in real life we’re swimming frantically against a mass of troubled waters that doesn’t seem like it’ll ever abate? And why did God, if he exists, have to punish me by showing me a glimpse of a happy ending and giving me a cute husband if I can’t even have either until I’ve been through yet another tribulation in my life? Other couples who are thrown together in an arranged marriage sleep together when they’re not in love yet. I guess I don’t deserve even that one consolation when you’re about to go away. I thought you loved me unconditionally, just the way I am. Who knows, maybe you’re just not man enough to want to do it. You rich intellectuals and limousine liberals really are all talk and no game when it comes to actually doing something you profess to care about so much.”

This last comment seizes his attention. “Is that what you think of me? I’ll show you who’s a man and not a mouse.”

Adicia feels butterflies in her stomach as Ricky takes her chin under his hand and gently kisses her. When he sees the awestruck smile on her face in the dark and that she’s not pulling away, he does it again for longer. He only separates himself from her when he sees the exit tunnel approaching, not wanting to get caught by the ride operator or anyone still walking around.

“How was that for someone you thought was a mouse and not a man?” he whispers as they’re walking back to the car.

“That was really nice,” she says giddily. “Now I know why they say that it feels so good and special when you’re with someone you really like, and not something someone’s forcing on you.”

“So I take it your offer to make a man of me is still open?”

“Most definitely.”

Stephanie S.--post 12

2011-09-18T21:28:00.000-05:00

Email: Stephaniesauvinet@gmail.com
Genre: YA sci-fi
Title: The End World

His gaze was on me but I didn’t want to look at him. Before I could go around him, he grabbed me by the wrist. I yanked my arm out of his grasp but he was already surrounding me with his arms.

“Lana, stop,” his calm voice was in my ear.

“Fuck you! You betrayed me! Just like him!” I spat on his shoulder. I tried to break his iron hold but he wouldn’t budge. “Let go of me!”

“I can’t let you go out. It’s daylight. They’ll spot you.”

“Like I care. You lied to me. You all freaking lied to me!” I screamed against his skin. Tears rushed down my cheeks and I didn’t care if he saw me cry. I screamed again, louder, just an animal howl, expelling the rage in my chest.

“I care,” Alex finally answered. “And what if they spot this place, what about the others?”

I tried the ‘play dead’ strategy and went limp. “I’m not gonna try to leave, you can let go now,” I whispered.

His arms relaxed but he grabbed my hands, not letting go. Our fingers intertwined. I let my head rest against his chest and I closed my eyes.

We stood there in silence, salty moisture at the corner of my mouth. The recycling fans hummed in the background, only witness to our truce. He finally released me and I thought he was going to leave but instead he brushed my hair away from my neck and kissed the corner of my jaw. A shiver ran down my back and I looked up at him. His eyes anchored on mine, his brow furrowed with concern. In that moment, I could see it all, all the deepest parts of him: his concern, his maturity and his history.

I tasted him, my lips brushing his. He caught my kiss midstream and pressed harder against my mouth, raw in his eagerness. His tongue parted my lips, burrowing further into my soul. I stopped thinking for a second. I forgot about my father, about The Program and about my failed mission. There were only his lips on mine and his arm supporting my back. His teeth tucked gently at my lower lip and a moan escaped me.

My hand went up to his head, holding the back of his neck, my fingers laced in his hair.

Even though I didn’t want to stop kissing him, I pulled away.

I looked up at him, searching his face for regret. He smiled, the dimples I loved so much at the corner of his mouth.

“Did I finally shut you up?”

I looked down, self-conscious and worried I had enjoyed his kiss way too much.

“Hey, hey,” he raised my chin with his finger, anchored his eyes on mine. “We are doing nothing wrong, you know that, right?”

Were we?

Sharon Bayliss--post 13

2011-09-18T21:27:00.001-05:00

Email: sharonebayliss(at)yahoo(dot)com
Genre: New Adult Contemporary Fantasy
Title: Stormland

Watching TV together...

“I don’t see how she doesn’t know that her boyfriend is a vampire,” Warren said, pointing at the television screen. “He’s got freaking fangs for God sake. And he never goes outside during the day, because what, to avoid skin cancer?”

“She’s not the sharpest," Lena said. "I don’t know why she would want to date a vampire anyway. All cold and hard. Not very snuggly.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind the bloodsucking and the whole undead thing if he was more snuggly?” Warren asked.

“Exactly. I--,”

Lena stopped midsentence. While talking, they had scooted closer to each other and their bare arms were touching. She stared down at the place where their skin met. The energy…or whatever it was…was flowing into her skin like she was a lamp that had just been plugged in. When she pulled her arm away it took an extra tug like the energy running between them had a magnetizing effect. Warren was studying her reaction. His cheeks had become flushed.

“What is that?” she asked.

“You can feel it?”

She laid her hands on his forearm. She could feel what he meant by amplified ‘energy’, like the life force or whatever it was inside her that makes her feel happy, depressed, scared, hungry, everything, had been turned up a few notches. And right now, since happy was her main emotion, it was swelling inside her like warmth. She could picture it running through her like yellow light.

Warren sighed deeply like he’d just eased into a hot bath. “That feels nice, you touching me. Like some of the extra energy is being sucked out of me. I’m lighter. Usually, it feels like other’s people’s energies are fighting with mine or contaminating it. But not yours.”

Lena couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like if they had more skin touching…a lot more…and the feeling she got from him made it hard to care what the consequences were. She guessed he was thinking something similar and they just stared at each other for a few seconds.

Melinda Williams--post 14

2011-09-18T21:25:00.000-05:00

email:williamsmelindas@gmail.com
genre: YA Contemporary
Title: Chargers
set up: She is on her way home, in the middle of the night, after a party/meeting under the school with an elite secretive society. This is when he first admits his feelings to our MC.

Tears build while I crawl through the tunnel. Barely to my feet in the janitor’s closet, a hand pulls me into the dark corner. As he presses my back against the wall his scent gives him away.

“Andre?” My voice cracks. Dang it.

“How did you know it was me?”

I can’t see his face in the dark, but it must be close because his words brush my cheek. “It’s not hard to guess when you’re so close.”

“Should I back up?”

“I uh…I dunno.” I sniff back the tears that didn’t get to fall.

“You’re upset.” He touches my hair and my muscles tighten.

“I’m just sick of everyone thinking I don’t belong here.”

“I don’t think that.” Now his mouth feels close to my ear.

“Ya, right, I’m not stupid. You’re harder on me than anyone.”

He’s silent for a long time. I swear my heartbeat is loud enough to hear. It only gets worse when his hand rests on my side where prickles break loose. “No, I hate to give you low scores. I just want you to fight harder.”

“I’m trying.” The words are shaky, but I’m surprised they form at all because his fingers are twisting the hair at the back of my neck. I push his hand away. “If you’re trying to distract me, you’re doing a great job. If you want me to understand anything you say, you better stop touching me.”

His hands drop.

“I need sleep.” I shake my head and take a step toward the door.

“No, stay. I want to talk about something else”

“Why?”

“So, you’ll let me touch you.” He pulls me back against the corner, voice thick.

“That isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.” He rests both hands on the wall around me.

“You’re acting weird.”

“I know, but I’m drawn to you like I’ve never been drawn to anything.” He swallows hard. “Trust me, this is not my sort of thing. But I’m sick of fighting it. Everything has been about you for so long. I can’t hide it anymore.”

His hands search me in the dark. Running up my arms, over my shoulders, cupping my neck. His thumbs run along my jaw until my chin is trembling. He drops his forehead to mine. His breathing is sharp, matching my own, but the pounding in my ears is so loud I can barely hear anything else.

“Simone,” he whispers before his lips finally close over mine. They’re so warm. His palms circle my neck and pull me in. I think my hands are somewhere near his chest. I always imagined my first kiss as awkward, slobbery, and rushed. Nothing like this.

He pulls back, but barely. I still feel his hot breath on my mouth.

“This can’t be real,” I whisper.

“It feels real to me.” His fingers run through my hair and pull me in again. This time he presses harder. “If this isn’t real, nothing is,” he says resting his lips against my cheek.

Kimmy--post 15

2011-09-18T21:24:00.000-05:00

Title: SOUL STALKER
Genre: YA paranormal romance
Email: Kimberlymillerpa@aol.com
Setting: Sitting on a blanket in a park at sunset (under 250 words)

He started playing with his shoelace. I watched two lightning bugs float by.

He sighed. “Liz, I...um...I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure.” I swallowed hard. He leaned toward me.

He opened his mouth twice before he finally spoke. “Would you mind if...I mean, can I...oh, what the hell.”

He took my face in his hands, his eyes holding mine hostage. I felt my heart pick up the pace until it sounded like a motor. He hesitated for a brief second, then leaned in and almost touched my lips.

I closed my eyes. Every nerve fiber I owned yearned for his touch. I felt hot breath on my face as his breathing sped up. His lips brushed my right cheek, then my left. I didn't dare open my eyes in case I was dreaming. Finally, warm, soft lips pressed against mine, and in that instant, I knew this was it.

Chris Edwards was the last guy I would ever kiss.

Taryn--post 16

2011-09-18T21:23:00.000-05:00

Title: PLAYING GOD
Genre: YA spec fic
Email: tarynalAThotmailDOTcm
First: make out session :)

Kalyn spun him around and yanked down on his neck, gentleness forgotten. A girl barely over five feet couldn’t hurt a guy six feet six, anyway. She crushed her mouth to his, kissing him in the way she imagined Tony would kiss, passionate, experienced, and arrogant. Taking, without any thought of what she was giving, from Jeff what she wanted, his preferences ignored. It had been too long without him, and too much of a fight to let him go.

How dare he accuse her of looking at Tony like that? She nipped sharply at his bottom lip and he let out a small groan in her mouth. When she’d only had eyes for him since the moment they met? She raked her nails down his back, feeling wiry muscle through his shirt. This is punishment.

But in the very moment she thought that, his arms were around her, pulling her up and up, until he no longer had to bend in two to reach her lips. She locked her legs around his waist and shuddered as he started to kiss her back with the same passion.

“This,” he muttered in between hard kisses, “is for letting me believe it.”

As her lips swelled red and tender, she melted into his embrace, forgetting the scene, the time, and the war brewing. She knew enough of real life to doubt it would last, but in that moment she didn’t care.

E. Arroyo--post 17

2011-09-18T21:22:00.000-05:00

Title: Angel
Genre: YA supernatural Horror/thriller
email: elizabeth.arroyo5@gmail.com
set-up: not the first kiss but an important moment for both MC's.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Me too. About everything.” His voice came out bitter and he hated it.

She stiffened beside him and released his hand, lowering her eyes to the ground. “You don’t have to be so pushy,” she remarked, her voice tainted with pain.

He looked at her, his mouth hanging open. “Me? Pushy? You’re the one leading me by the nose here. I’m stupid enough to buy it.”

She gasped. “You’re such a baby. You tell me you love me and clam up like it came out of your second brain and I’m the one leading you?” her voice was high, the veins on her neck bulged.

He wanted to possess all of her. To take her right then and there and before he could even think of all the negative consequences of _that_ action, he pulled her tight against him, pinning her with his body and the truck, and claimed her. She squirmed under him as he ravaged her lips, tasting her. Anger swept through him giving him freedom. A release he had never known possible.

She put her palm on his chest and every cell in his body exploded in decadent ecstasy. He pressed himself closer ignoring her own warning of space. It only excited him more. He was done with this cat and mouse game with her. She was his.

He lifted her and settled her on the ground. She wrapped her arms around his neck and slipped forward pressing against his bulging pants. If he were a god he would make their clothes disappear. He released her mouth and ravaged her neck, and explored every inch of her body. He needed to feel her bare flesh against him it was what drove him.

“Jake stop,” she whispered. But Jake could no longer find reason that didn’t lead to this. He felt like a man dying of a thirst only she could quench. It was both pain and ecstasy. He took her wrist and pinned them against her side. Heat trailed from her warm flesh, her scent wafted up his nostrils into his brain. His senses heightened to the point where she could no longer hide from him. She was embedded in his mind and soul. He laced his fingers around her jeans and began to inch them lower.

“Jake, stop,” she whispered through a haze of thick air. She pushed his hand away. “Stop it.”

He opened his eyes to her and saw fear. Raw fear. He laughed. A deep throaty laughter. His body covered her. She couldn’t move. “I can take you right now and make you scream.” His voice deep. “We were meant to be together Angel, Always.”

“Why are you doing this?” her voice broke, sending sharp needles through him. He blinked and the sudden realization burned through him. Could he make her scream? Could he force himself on her? Isn’t that what Pat did to her? He breathed heavily and stood up, a searing pain flittered up his back.

S. Kyle Davis post 18

2011-09-18T21:19:00.003-05:00

Title: Blackbird
Genre: YA Fantasy Thriller
First: First time Regan admits feelings for Taylor (sort of)
Setup: A bomb exploded and Taylor fell out of a window. She wakes to find Regan and Pyrrhus by her bed.

"What happened?" I repeated, willing someone to explain.

Regan walked over to Pyrrhus. He seemed annoyed by it, like he was conceding something by going around to Pyrrhus’s side of the bed. I was too tired to figure out their crap right now. What mattered was that they were both here. Regan stood next to Pyrrhus. He took a breath, and said, "They don't know for sure, but they think someone from the normal school must have planted a booby trap on my laptop. A prank to get back at the advanced class they couldn’t join. It wasn't a strong enough explosive to be lethal to anyone other than my computer." Regan's anger intensified his over-proper accent, so that each consonant burst from him like a mini-tirade.

"Did I break anything?" I asked.

"That's an understatement," Regan laughed humorlessly. "You basically shattered your leg, broke your arm, and fractured a vertebra."

"Oh, no..." I said, my eyes watering. "Am I... can I... walk?"

"It's ok. You're alright," Pyrrhus said quickly. "The doctors here healed you already. Your bones are mended. You still have a lot of bruising that will have to heal, but the bones and nerves are fine. You'll be fine in a week. You should be able to go back to your room tomorrow."

Relief flooded into me. "You jerks," I said with a pitiful attempt at force. "You empty-headed morons," I added, smiling as the insult from the game earlier came easily to my lips.

"What?" Regan asked. The two of them exchanged a look, probably worrying about brain damage.

"Don’t lead me on like that... Make me... worry." I felt the sleep threatening to engulf me again, and though every other part of my body wanted to slip into it, my head wanted to stay here with Regan and Pyrrhus.

"Oh, we’re the jerk for making you worry?" Regan asked in mock incredulity.

"Sorry," I mumbled. My weak voice ruined the sarcasm. I was almost asleep now. "I'll try my best... to not fall... out of windows... in the future."

"See that you do," Pyrrhus smiled. He walked up and held my hand, engulfing it in his two huge ones. It was nice and warm, and I felt my cheeks go pink. I’d never held a boy’s hand before. Regan cleared his throat, and Pyrrhus pulled away. My cold hand made me feel empty and alone.

Pyrrhus stepped back, and Regan stepped forward. He reached out and brushed the hair out of my face. My skin felt hot under his cool touch. As he cleared my bangs, he leaned over and kissed my forehead softly. "Get better kid," he whispered, his lips hovering an inch from my forehead. As I fell unconscious, I heard him add, more to himself than me, "Don't scare me again. I don't want to lose you too."

1st To Make Our Toes Curl Contest

2011-09-11T08:01:00.010-05:00

THE CONTEST IS NOW CLOSED!!!!!! Thanks for participating.

Update: If there is not fifty entries by Saturday, Sept 17, 12 noon central time and, if you have another entry you would like to submit, please do so.

This is it....

Contest Day!!!!!

Here are the rules.

1) You have to follow my blog and Oasis for YA Learn more about the ladies from Oasis for YA here.

2) Place your entry of a first romantic meeting between two characters in the comment section below. Remember, it doesn't have to be a kiss, it can be anything: the first time they saw each other, first touch, first make-out session. No porn, though.

3) No more than 500 words AND, if you can do it in 250 words, you get and extra vote.

4) Only one entry per person.

5) Please include in your entry: email addy, genre, and title.

6) The contest will end midnight (central time) Saturday, Sept 17th or when we reach 50 entries.

7) Entries will be posted along with more information on Sunday, Sept 18th.

Prizes: 1st chapter/no more than 10 page critique from all the talented ladies from Oasis for YA. Each of these ladies will bring to the table their own experience from the publishing world. And this will give you an opportunity to see styles, voices, word choices, sentence structures with your own work not just examples.

And then of course, little ol' me.

Good luck to all. I can't wait to read them all.

The 1st To Make Our Toes Curl

2011-09-06T18:45:00.003-05:00

PLEASE DO NOT POST YOUR ENTRIES YET.

Just as promised....another super cool contest.

Only this time, I'm super lucky to be hosting this contest with some awesome writing friends.

Drum roll please!!!

The ladies from Oasis for YA. That's right, all six of them are joining me in a super duper most awesomeness contest.....EVAH!!!

But first let's meet the ladies:

*There is new Oasis sister, Larissa Hardesty. You can check out her blog here. Be sure and stop by to welcome her. Follow her @lchardesty

*Jessie Harrell-- Jessie's blog and interview. Follow her @JessieHarrell A big congrats to Jessie for her Nov. 17th release of DESTINED. You can preorder that now.

*Nikki Katz-- Nikki's blog and interview. Follow her @katzni

*Sheri Larsen--Sheri's blog. Follow her @SA_Larsen

*J.A. Souders--Jessie's blog and interview. Follow her @jasouders Also congratulate Jessica for her debut novel, RENEGADE, out Fall 2012 (I know that's like forever away...right?) I'll be waiting on the edge of my seat for this one.

*A.E. Rought--A.E.'s blog and interview. Follow her @aerought A.E. has a novel sitting on publisher's desks. Let's wish her the best of luck.

Okay, now to the contest.

The title of the contest THE 1st TO MAKE OUR TOES CURL wasn't just something silly I thought up. Nope, there is a reason behind the insanity.

We want you to make our toes curl with the first romantic experience between your male and female characters. BUT (there is always a but) you got to do it in 500 or less words. AND if you can do it in 250 words then you get an extra vote.

It doesn't have to be a kiss either, unless you want it to. It can be anything---1st time they saw each other, 1st time they touch, 1st time they met...you get the picture. Anything that is the 1st between them qualifies.

But please, no porn. I know one of you were thinking about it.

So...this is how this works:

1) The contest starts SUNDAY, Sept. 11th in which you post your 500 word or less entry after I announce the opening.

2) Saturday, Sept. 17th, when the clock tolls midnight (um. central time) the contest will end.

3) Sunday, Sept 18th, at some point of time (I promise) the entries will be posted.

And here comes the learning aspect.

Each of you will be responsible to vote for three of your favorite entries (please do not vote for yourself) and then tell us why it was your favorite.

What Ebyss, no critique??? That's right and let me tell you why.

Most contests, including my own, always have critiques. I thought it would be interesting and informative for the author to know why his or her entry was the reader's favorite. What lit the fire in the cockles of the reader's heart--along with other body parts being lit *snicker*.

THAT BEING SAID!! Since there are no critiques and three comments....It is only fair that you read all the entries to make an informed decision. And I'm trusting the participants to do this. Your comment will equal one vote.

Don't worry. I'm capping the entries at fifty.

Which brings us to the next part....

4) The contest will end Saturday, Sept. 24th at the strike of the midnight hour, or when we reach fifty entries. At which time there will be another post announcing the contest is closed.

5) To enter, you have to follow my blog and OASIS for YA and, of course, enter.

6) And that is it. If you have questions, please post in comments and I will answer them.

Oh...wait...I guess you want to know what the winner gets. A completely invaluable prize it is.

You get...not one...not two... (I sound like an infomercial) but seven critiques of your first chapter/ten pages from all the girls from Oasis. Pretty impressive. Each of these ladies will bring to the table their own experience from the publishing world. And this will give you an opportunity to see styles, voices, word choices, sentence structures with your own work not just examples.

I, also, will be joining in this round with a critique. Not as impressive, but I'm doing it anyway.

So there you have it.

I can't wait to read what romance pulses in your entries.

Revision Contest Winners

2011-08-05T21:51:00.007-05:00

The moment you have all been waiting for........

Wait for it......

The Revision Contest Winners.....

But first, (mua ha ha) I'd really like to extend a special thank you to Natalie Fischer for making this contest such a success, and to all who entered and for participating.

The entries were really great and I loved reading them and then reading the revisions.

I also want to send a thanks to all my followers. And please stay tuned for more contests and interviews from awesome peeps.

Just a note...I will be taking the rest of August off to work on some revisions and to enjoy the sun before fall, but as I said, more contests and interviews will be heading to my blog. So keep a look out.

Okay, okay, now to the winners....

#1Revised Entry 11 Susan Oloier

Title: OUTCAST

#2 Revised Entry 14 Carol Anne

Title: The Picasso Project

#3 Revised Entry 15 A.J. Spindle

Title: The Bridge Between Two Minds

Grats to all the winners and please check your emails.

Also, please leave comments to thank Natalie and to say grats to the winners.

Summer Writing Contest

2011-08-04T14:14:00.002-05:00

Guess what I have for you.

If you guessed another contest hosted by Rachel McClellan over at Blackbird in my Window, then you guessed right.

This is an awesome opportunity for you. Not only do you get to post a bit of your work for everyone to see, BUT agent awesomeness Lauren Ruth from Bookends is judging.

Prizes are:

1) Partial review of the first three chapters.

2) A book of your choice.

Pop on over to my friend, Rachel's, blog and check it out.

Revision Contest Update

2011-07-26T08:24:00.002-05:00

Okay this is it.

Good luck to all the people who entered.

I hope you take this opportunity to go back through the original posts and compare them to the revised posts. After all this was the whole point of the contest. This way we can see what the author had originally then see what they did to really flesh out the content of their sentences, characters, settings, whatnot.

I really enjoyed hosting this contest with Natalie. It was original and fun and all of Natalie's idea.

Please be patient. As you may or may not know, Natalie has some big upcoming plans with a wedding. So we need to be sure to say GRATS to her in the comment section below.

As soon as I know the results, I will contact you and give you further directions.

Thanks so much for participating and making this contest ROCK!!!

p.s. If you find a mistake on your entry, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Revised Entry 1 Ashley Maker

2011-07-26T08:22:00.000-05:00

ashleydmaker Entry Number 1

Name: Ashley Maker

Contact info: ashleydmaker(at)yahoo(dot)com

Title: Under the Trees

Genre: YA Historical Fantasy Romance

Pitch: Fleeing an arranged marriage, Araya’s last intention is to fall in love; when Prince Thor helps her, he doesn’t consider the consequences of harboring a fugitive princess…until Araya’s betrothed arrives, armed and determined to take her back.

Second line of first paragraph of 1st chapter: My muscles burned and sweat rolled into my eyes, but I could not let my horse slow down as we cleared fallen logs and ducked under branches.

First 250 words of 2nd chapter:

I intended to leave with the hunting party in the afternoon. After stopping and hearing requests and complaints in the villages along the way, we planned to set up camp under the yellow trees of the Golden Woods. Ten of my best men, all part of my signet guard, were to accompany me, in case we ran into trouble. Father feared we might.

“It has been too long since Darrell has pulled one of his stunts,” he said. “Expect trouble on your hunt. Be prepared. No harm can come from that.”

“My men are always prepared,” I replied, turning away to tie off my bag of supplies.

“Thor—” Father grasped my upper arm. He waited until I looked into his narrowed gray eyes. “If you come across them, don’t underestimate them. Be careful. I fear Darrell is up to something.”

His words sobered me, but they were not unexpected. The feud between King Cyric, my father, and King Darrell was well known and had only worsened since the engagement between my sister and Darrell’s son had fallen apart. They fought over the resources of the Golden Woods, for the rare white wood provided excellent lumber and supplied a plentiful source of game animals for hunting. Darrell’s men frequently crossed the boundary, meaning we had to constantly patrol, making sure no one pushed the line.

Still, I gave him my promise I would be careful, although sometimes I wished Darrell would do something so that the situation could be dealt with.

Revised Entry 2 mshatch

2011-07-26T08:21:00.000-05:00

The Way to Dendara YA Fantasy:

marcy@tidewater.net entry #2

Pitch: Lucy, a young woman with bad dreams and a tragic past, inherits a kingdom. But instead of the nice kingdom with the fairies and elves and wood sprites, this is the other one, the one with trolls and goblins and a half brother who’d like nothing better than the throne for himself. For Lucy, the hardest part will not be ruling the kingdom; it will be keeping it.

Second line, first paragraph: No return address, no postage, not even any tape to keep the paper from being torn.

Second 250: She saw it as soon as she woke. The creature. The thing that had stolen her away, standing by the only door, waiting, watching her with cat’s eyes. She looked around, noting the ornate bed and heavy velvet drapes, pulled back and tied.

This was not her room.

Dreaming, she thought, still dreaming. She closed her eyes and told herself to wake up, but when she opened her eyes again everything was just the same.

The room was immense, the size of her flat, and as richly appointed as the bed. The decor was French, all rococo and curved lines, plush upholstery in deep, vibrant plum. She could smell incense burning.

The creature hadn’t moved, still stood by the tall wooden door, watching her with its amber eyes. She had thought at first it was some horribly deformed person. She had rather hoped, in fact. Because in the back of her mind there had come an unbidden thought: not from here. Now she knew there could be no doubt about its lack of humanity. It was too tall, too big, and its shape wasn’t right. It wasn’t a person at all. No person she’d ever seen had ridges like scars so perfectly made. No person had hands like claws and no one wore studded leather armor – except in books or movies.

She shuddered. Not real, she told herself. Couldn’t be. It was a dream, just like all the others she had. A very bad dream.

Revised Entry 3 Artemis Grey

2011-07-26T08:20:00.000-05:00

Title: Thornbriar
Genre: YA Fantasy Retelling
My Name: Artemis Grey
Email: Greyvaledesigns(at)gmail(dot)com

Pitch:

Most Ladies get china sets for their wedding. Beauty got a Beast with multiple personalities and a cursed magic kingdom nobody believed in. Now, as the new Queen, it’s up to Beauty to sort things out.

Second Line:

Instead, the black shaft of the arrow passed through her ruby curls as she staggered sideways.

First 250 of Second Chapter:

Beauty spent the remainder of her journey sequestered in the shadows of Liivan’s coach. The Senior merchant attended her only enough to satisfy protocol but otherwise let her be. She did not again ask about the possibly bestial Woodlord. Part of her truly wanted to, for would it not be better to know of what she faced? But then, in a way, it didn’t matter. She would marry him regardless.

It was much easier to uphold her fierce determination and bold resolve within the shelter of the coach. The peculiar way in which the Altheans had moved around her made all the more sense now. They had seen from the moment she’d been introduced that she did not fully understand her own situation.

Her cheeks burned to think of it but when she spoke to Liivan, it was with easy elegance and lovely smiles. The strange people of Althea might think her a simpering, foolish maiden, but Beauty would make the most splendid Queen they could have ever imagined. Her beauty had brought her this far, it would serve her yet.

Selene did not have the same spine on the matter. Of course, Selene was plain, in manner more than feature. Her demeanor only dimmed what would have else wise been a comely enough face. Beauty had no patience for the quailing of her handmaiden and might have left her standing beside the roadway if it wouldn’t have caused talk later.

Revised Entry 4 Sherry Auger

2011-07-26T08:19:00.000-05:00

Sherry Auger post #4
Title: A June Snowstorm in Maine
genre: chapter book
contact: ricksgalsherry@msn.com

Pitch:
No Way! 10-year-old Abigail Snoot can’t let the Highway Commissioner put a school bus turn-around in the middle of Mr. Pickle’s Store, home of her favorite one of a kind snacks. But what can a kid do about it? Plenty as Abby finds out when she puts her mind to it. She makes a deal with the commissioner; if it snows in June, the Highway Department would find an alternate location.

2nd line of 1st paragraph 1st chapter:

I was so happy that the snow was finally gone and we could walk to the store.

1st 250 words of 2nd chapter:

Now that I’m ten, and we’re on our way to Mr. Pickle’s Store, I can’t understand how I ever survived without Mrs. Pickle’s whole-wheat carrot and pineapple muffins, or the heavenly zucchini bread she makes. When we arrived at Mr. Pickle’s he greeted us as he always does.

“Hello! Hello, Mrs. Snoot, Miss Snoot. How are you on this fine day?”

“We’re just fine, Mr. Pickle. How are you and Mrs. Pickle doing?” asked Mom, handing Mr. Pickle her grocery list.

Mr. Pickle always insists on getting our groceries himself. He’s nice that way.

“Well,” begins Mr. Pickle. “We would be much better if we didn’t have to close our store by the tenth of June.”

“What!” I yell. “Close your store? You’ve been here forever. Not that you’re old or anything, but for as long as I can remember, and Mom can remember, and anyone I know can remember! You can’t do it. What would you do? Where would you go? Where would we buy our groceries?”

“Abigail! I am so sorry Mr. Pickle. Now apologize at once,” Mom demanded. “Give Mr. Pickle a chance to explain before you badger him with all your questions.”

“Sorry Mr. Pickle. Sorry Mom,” I said, hopping from one foot to the other impatiently.

“That’s okay dear,” says Mr. Pickle handing me a crispy and chewy oatmeal cookie. “It’s the highway’s fault really. Someone has decided that another school bus turn-around is needed and it’s being put here. There are more suitable places, but you know how those folks can be.

Revised Entry 5 Lori M Lee

2011-07-26T08:18:00.000-05:00

Name: Lori M Lee
Entry #5
Title: Soul Without a Boy
Genre: YA urban fantasy
Contact: leemai82 at gmail dot com

Pitch:

When 17-year-old London Howell inadvertently "creates" a girl, he must protect her from the magi after the power in her soul—a soul that shouldn't exist anyway. But when his dad is taken, London will have to risk his own soul to save them both.
--
Second line of the very first paragraph of the 1st chapter:

It was crouched against the wooden post of a neighbor's mailbox, little more than a shadow with large-knuckled fingers that raked at empty air.
--
First 250 words of your second chapter:

The boy gave Amun a cursory glance before addressing London. "What House are you from?"

London wasn't about to tell them where he lived. He pointed over his shoulder.

The girl with the ponytail laughed. She rested a hand on her hip and leaned toward Amun. "What's your name?" she asked. At Amun's dismissive look, her cheeks turned pink. "You got a problem?"

"What's the name of your House?" the boy asked, his words edged with impatience now. Like the girl, he was Asian, his dark hair braided back into cornrows.

"My house's name?" London repeated, confused. "Can't say we've ever named it." At the boy's tightening jaw, he offered, "Harold?"

"You think you're funny?" Cornrows asked, voice rising.

London didn't think so, but that didn't stop him from trying. Humor was a tool, an ice breaker. Or maybe an ice pick, more exact. Humor directed conversation away from topics that were either uncomfortable or too personal.

"Or maybe you're just stupid," Cornrows said. He reminded London of the football players at school—too much competition, not enough anger management.

"Sure," London said. If he was supposed to be stupid, then he would take advantage of it.

Cornrows sneered and raised his palm, fingers splayed as if pushing against an invisible surface.

The discomfort returned, skittering across London's skin. He was suddenly short of breath, like the air was being sucked from his lungs. He tried to breathe in and couldn't. He clutched his neck, alarmed at the dry gasps issuing from his throat.

Revised Entry 6 Beth

2011-07-26T08:17:00.000-05:00

Title: MARTYR
Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Contact: Bethany Ray

PITCH: When she is thrust unwillingly into a deadly feud between politics and the mafia, all Evelyn wants to do is save the Senator's daughter - the girl that went from being Eveyln's job to the only friend she had ever known. In order to do that, she has to be willing to go on the offensive, sacrificing her own safety - and possibly her own life.

SECOND SENTENCE OF FIRST CHAPTER: "You know ignoring my dad isn't going to help. He'll just send the secret service after you."

FIRST 250 OF SECOND CHAPTER:
A week later, I’m up earlier than normal. The blackout curtains in my own bedroom helped shield the bright morning light, making it easier to sleep in as late as I wanted on weekends. Chloe was probably loving that.

Already annoyed with waking up on my couch in a house my money was paying for; my body flexed and stretched the kinks and tightness. Then I heard the sound of my own shower from behind the closed bedroom door.

It was only the first day of my new living arrangement, and already I was missing Amber. While she might have been a bitch and a little bit crazy, she at least knew how much I loved sleeping in my own bed and taking a shower first thing in the morning.

Over an hour later, Chloe came from my bedroom clean and sparking in a short denim skirt with leggings and a white wrap shirt. Her red hair corkscrewed down her back and her make-up nothing short of perfect. She’d look that way since the first time I met her years ago - runway perfect.

“You have your own shower, and room, I might mention.”

She lowered her head for a moment, but the shine in her eyes started me, pushing any sarcastic retort I might have had sailing back down my throat.
“Why are you crying?”

She turned away again, rubbing a manicured finger under her nose. “I don’t like being snapped at.”

“Then your dad should have sent you somewhere else.”

Revised Entry 7 Kate Larkindale

2011-07-26T08:16:00.000-05:00

TITLE: Chasing the Taillights
GENRE: YA Contemporary
CONTACT: katelarkindale(at)gmail(dot)com

PITCH: Lucy and Tony share nothing except their genetic code and a love of rock music. When a car accident kills their parents, Lucy and Tony are forced to rely on one another--and decide whether to reveal their secrets. As the siblings struggle to overcome a lifetime of past conflicts and jealousies, they discover they might have more in common than they ever thought.

2nd LINE OF 1ST PARA.: I strain to push the lids up, but they’re already wide.

1ST 250 WORDS OF 2ND CHAPTER:

I cup my chin in my hand and stare at the screen, fingers scraping across unshaven stubble. It’s not late, but I find myself drifting off to sleep in front of the computer. My leaden eyes close and my head drops down toward the heavy wooden desk. I snap myself awake and shake my head. This assignment isn’t going to write itself, is it? Focus. Focus. World War II. That’s what you’re supposed to be thinking about. More importantly, the economic factors that led to World War II. I bite the inside of my cheek and the sharp bloom of pain makes me start. With the salty taste of my own blood flooding my tongue, I begin typing again.

I’m dragged away from hyper-inflation and the rise of the Nazi party by the insistent ringing of the phone. I realize it’s been shrilling for several minutes now, and wonder why neither of my roommates picked it up. Maybe they’re not home; it is Saturday night after all. It’s only jocks like me who have to spend Saturday nights catching up on schoolwork. Parties are just one of the things I sacrifice for my sport. Diving’s a huge time suck.

“Okay, okay… I’m coming.” I drag myself out of my chair, stumbling over the sneakers I kicked off earlier. My legs ache. A four hour practice can do that, especially when it’s all platform. Climbing all those stairs is a killer.

I scoop up the phone from the kitchen counter, half-expecting whoever’s at the other end to have hung up. “Hello?”

Revised Entry 8 E. Arroyo

2011-07-26T08:14:00.001-05:00

Name: Elizabeth Arroyo
Contact: elizabeth(dot)arroyo5(at)gmail.com
Title: Some Kind of Trouble
Genre: YA Contemporary
Entry #8

Pitch: After a drive-by shooting leaves Arianna with an unexpected boyfried, she finds that love alone won't save him from life on the streets.

2nd Line: I once chanted one hundred and three thousand times in one night for my mom to get better.

First 250 of 2nd chapter:

I awoke the next morning with David standing beside my bed, already dressed. “Where’s mom?”

“She’s at the clinic. What time is it?” I asked, still nestled under the covers.

“Seven.”

“Seven?” I jumped out of bed, got caught in the sheets and went sprawling to the floor. Shit. David laughed as I scampered to the bathroom. “Are you ready?” I asked him while brushing my teeth and pulling my hair in a tail. I had thirty minutes to drop him off and get my butt to school. I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Get my keys and turn on the car and come back inside.” I rinsed my mouth and ran to my room frantically searching for my school uniform, which I found where I had left it: on a chair near my bed. I grunted, threw it on and ran downstairs. It was seven-ten when I grabbed my jacket and got in my car, three minutes after that I realized I’d left David and went back for him. I had five minutes to make it to school after dropping him off.

The school parking lot was full and I managed to squeeze my car between a Honda, whose driver could care less about the lines on the pavement, and a minivan. Sliding out of my car, I ran inside.

I was three minutes late to Mr. Hanlon’s class and froze when I entered. In the front row away from the door sat Rebecca Townsend. In my seat. I narrowed my eyes and wanted to remind her that she usually sat near the door with Marcus when Mr. Hanlon spoke.

“There’s a chair near the door,” he told me.
Of course there was a chair near the door. It was her spot. I turned and sat down hard, dropped my book bag on the floor and took off my jacket. This day could not get any worse.

I was so wrong.

Revised Entry 9 Lydia Sharp

2011-07-26T08:13:00.000-05:00

Entry #9
SOCIAL GRACES
YA Contemp

Contact:
lydiasharp4sff (at) yahoo (dot) com

Pitch:

At the beginning of senior year, Rocklyn's family moves from the city to the boondocks, forcing her to start a new life when her old one had finally gotten semi-sorta good. Now she must come out as a lesbian all over again, at a school that's more straight-laced than her Doc Marten boots. Rocklyn just wants to survive this year, but along the way she makes new friends, falls in love, and finds the strength to confront an old enemy who discovers her new stomping grounds.

Second line of 1st paragraph:

I prefer to walk, to relish every step of my final trek across town.

First 250 words of 2nd chapter:

Sunday, August 20, 1995

I pass my sister, Candy, on the way downstairs. She's all sweaty from her daily morning run, which never accomplishes anything. She refuses to accept that she'll always have a baby pooch.

"Hey, slut," I say.

"Hey, dyke."

This is about as affectionate as it gets between us. At least we acknowledged each other.

The kitchen smells like a typical Sunday morning--coffee, maple syrup, and bacon grease. Dad's sipping from a mug and reading the Plain Dealer. Mom's fussing over Candy's brat in the high chair, trying to get him to stop throwing Cheerios at the stove while she's cooking. I'm pretty sure he hasn't cut any teeth yet, so why she gave him Cheerios is a mystery.

But everything Mom does is a mystery, really.

My five year-old brother, Jeremy (Mom's "change of life" baby), explodes into smiles when he sees me. I ruff up his hair then sit across from him, grab a plate of bacon and ignore the rest of the spread.

Dad bends the corner of his newspaper down just long enough to say, "Good morning, Rocklyn."

Sure it is. "What're you so happy about?" I ask Jeremy.

"We're moving!" He thrusts both hands in the air like he just scored a touchdown, then immediately goes back to wolfing down his pancakes.

"Don't remind me."

"Ring, ring!" Jeremy mimes picking up a telephone. "Oh hi, Snow White. You're looking for Grumpy? Yeah, hang on." He hands me his invisible phone. "It's for you."

Revised Entry 10 Nora Coon

2011-07-26T08:12:00.000-05:00

Title: Insulin Junkies (Entry #10)
Genre: YA contemporary
Contact: Nora Coon, nora.e.coon[AT]gmail[DOT]com

Pitch: Eva knows something’s wrong long before the doctor diagnoses her with diabetes - no seventeen-year-old wakes up to a wet the bed for the fourth time in as many days and thinks, “Yep, this is totally normal.” When her parents send her to diabetes camp, though, she discovers that surviving life as an insulin junkie will take a lot more than shots.

2nd Line: The door wouldn't lock, so I hauled the big metal trash can in front of it, hoping it’d keep some people from coming in, and stood there in nothing but my shirt, washing my underwear.

250 of Ch. 2: I make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich: two tablespoons of jam, two tablespoons of peanut butter, two slices of bread. I wonder if I’ll think of all food in terms of carbohydrates for the rest of my life. I draw up my lunchtime insulin injection - just short-acting insulin, this time - and my hands sweat, my palms prickling, as I try to decide if I can do it myself. I hold the syringe like a pencil, which feels wrong, and then like a joint, which feels even stranger. Just stab your arm, I tell myself. Just do it. It doesn't hurt that much. What's wrong with you, just do it!

I can't. I even touch the tip of the needle to my skin, like maybe it will jump out of my hand and just inject me on its own, but I can't go further. "Mom," I say at last.

She raises her head a little. "What is it?" She's hoarse - how has she gone hoarse since I've been sitting here?

"Can you...?" I gesture with the syringe, and I see her flinch before she collects herself and holds out one mute hand.

I drag my chair over next to her, chair legs screeching on the floor, and give her the syringe. Mom starts to cry when she slides the needle into my skin, and for the first time all morning, I can't help being a little annoyed with her too.

Revised Entry 11 Susan Oloier

2011-07-26T08:11:00.000-05:00

Title: OUTCAST
Genre: YA Contemporary
Contact: susanoloier(at)gmail(dot)com
Post #: 11

PITCH:
Always the compliant, Catholic school girl, Noelle grows tired of people’s hypocrisy. Her pious mother criticizes her; the popular group bullies her. With the help of her black-sheep aunt and a defiant, new classmate, Noelle seeks revenge. But vengeance comes with a price: Noelle risks friendship, first love, and self to get back at those who have wronged her.

2ND LINE OF 1ST PARAGRAPH:
I felt it in the desert breeze, heard it in the sounds of broad tailed hummingbirds and mourning doves, and stared at it in the bathroom mirror.

1ST 250 WORDS OF 2ND CHAPTER:
The ocotillos writhed and twisted out of the sandy, desert floor as dust devils curled and raced one another. The monsoon season proved a fraud, leaving the last of the autumn months dry and arid.

It was Sunday. Another Sunday of wiggling my way out of church. It became a ritual, a ceremony, and a game. I crept down the stairs with predatory stealth, slipping out the back door before my mother even realized I was awake. I escaped the house early enough to avoid 8:00 a.m. mass. My Reeboks beat a rhythm on the asphalt of Civic Center Boulevard. Sweat dampened my sports bra, pooled between my breasts.

As I ran, the September sun bled carmine and tangerine from its place in the eastern sky. The Arizona fever scorched the alien, oxide green of the golf courses to a raw sienna. Cumulous clouds, tethered to the air, taunted us. In the Midwest, people call this heat Indian summer. To us, it was a cool-down from the daunting summer temperatures of 120 degrees.

The beat of The Black Eyed Peas greeted me as I labored through the door, and I knew Becca had evaded church, too. She took advantage of every moment, every second, of our parents’ absence. She paraded around the living room, phone pressed to her ear. She spotted me and made a curt one-eighty.

“Oh my God! Tell me he did not say that.”

Her chats always revolved around some guy. The new one: Carl.

Revised Entry 12 A.E. Martin

2011-07-26T08:10:00.000-05:00

Name: A.E. Martin
Contact: aje237@yahoo.com
Title: Graveyard Phoenix
Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy
Entry: 12

Pitch:

When necromancer Blaise Evarin unexplainably starts resurrecting people who get four days of life again, she uses her ability to help criminal trials while dealing with severe political and religious criticism. Things become more complicated when several of her recent resurrections remain alive, go berserk, and embark on murderous rampages. And that's only problem number one.

Second line of first paragraph:

I took the container of blood from the sobbing woman, wondering why she’d even picked it up.

First 250 of second chapter:

After Gideon seemed stable enough with the resurrection, I called his family over and they unleashed their joy on him. I stepped back to collect the empty blood container, and watched as the gravediggers covered the open grave with a tarp. Since Gideon would be going back down in a few days, it didn't make sense to fill it up again.

His family was doing a lot of hugging and crying, but Gideon seemed to be in shock, because he was holding himself stiffly and avoiding eye contact with them. Everyone came back acting differently. Some were back to themselves in a snap, while others screamed and wailed for an hour before they could be made to understand what was going on. Gideon seemed to be an internal, confused screamer.

Once again, watching someone who'd been dead not ten minutes ago walking, breathing, and talking, raised all the frustrating questions I had about how I, of all people, had the power to do this. Raising zombies was one thing, but I was still coming to terms with the fact that I could raise living people. Not knowing where the power came from or why, and having to watch the people I brought back die again four days later, didn’t make anything easier.

Stop thinking so damn much, I said to myself. At least the reasons I do this are justified, even if not everyone thinks so. I walked over to the Tillars.

“You should take Gideon home now,” I said.

Revised Entry 13 Erin Schneider

2011-07-26T08:08:00.000-05:00

Name: Erin L. Schneider
Contact: elschneider@hotmail.com
Title: THE LUCKY FEW
Genre: YA Contemporary Thriller
Post #: Lucky #13

1) Pitch:

For over six hundred years, 99.9% of the world’s most powerful and influential leaders, scientists, CEOs - and yes, even most of Hollywood’s elite – successfully achieved greatness because of one thing…they were chosen. When a mysterious invitation shows up at sixteen-year-old Blakely Sullivan’s door, she can’t help but wonder what she’s gotten herself into now. Little does she know, she’s the next in line.

2) The second line of the very first paragraph of the 1st chapter:

Those were the only words in perfect, jet-black calligraphy that crossed the formal white parchment of the invitation.

3) The first 250 words of your second chapter:

"First things first, I'm sure you're all wondering who I am. My name is Thaddeus Vaughan, but please, call me Thad; I’m the Dean here at Oren Preparatory.” He shifted slightly in his seat as he rested his hands along the surface of the table. “In order for us all to get to know one another, why don't we go around the table, introduce ourselves, and tell everyone one interesting fact, shall we?" He motioned to the boy sitting to his left, who sat across from me.

"Reid Whittley, nice to meet you all. And one thing about me? I’ve been riding and racing motorcycles since the age of four." He said it with such a matter-of-fact tone as he nodded at everyone around the room, until his frost blue eyes came to rest on mine. Unlike the glare he'd given me earlier, this time his lips curled up into a devilish grin as he winked my way; the motion lightning fast, I wasn't sure if anyone else around me noticed. I found myself blushing – the twinge of déjà vu I’d seen that wink before, flittered at the back of my mind - as I turned my gaze to the girl sitting next to him.

"Hello, my name is Naomi Forbes and yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you all. Let’s see, one thing about me is that I entered and won the Miss California Teen USA pageant last year." She smiled a cheesy, politician-style grin at everyone around the table, but it faded as it got to me.

Revised Entry 14 Carol Anne

2011-07-26T08:07:00.002-05:00

Title: The Picasso Project

Genre: YA Contemporary 

My name and email: Carol Anne Shaw, shawshack(at)shaw(dot)ca

Pitch: The world hasn’t been easy for 17-year old Eddie DuMont. A few years ago, his abusive father vanished, and his mother succumbed to a nervous breakdown soon afterwards. Any dreams for art school were quickly forgotten in Eddie's struggle to survive. The rules are simple: Lay low, trust no one, and make sure you have plenty of Duct tape on hand. But will Eddie's passion for art provide a way out for him and his kid sister, Maya, or will it derail them for good?

2nd line: I remember the stupidest things about that day, like the way the Beefaroni in the cracked enamel saucepan bubbled over the sides and messed up the stove.

250 of 2nd chap:  

“Why do I have to wear this stupid coat, anyway?” my sister asks. She’s at that age where she thinks it’s cool to walk around in t-shirts, getting soaked in the pouring rain.

"Because you do," I tell her, "so don't argue."

"Jeez Eddie, you're so uptight!"

I hold up the green coat for her to put on and she thrusts her arms angrily into the sleeves. As coats go, it's not bad. Almost new, down-filled with pockets and zippers everywhere, and the best part was that it was eight bucks. Some days you just get lucky.

"Just wear the damn coat, Maya."

She flips me the bird and begins to walk off toward the trees.

"Wait," I call after her. "You forgot your lunch."

I push the plastic grocery bag into her hands and she looks at it hopefully, like by some miracle there’s going to be a massive corned beef on rye or a couple of super-sized brownies inside it. Right.

"Gross. Bran muffins again? They're totally stale, Eddie, and the banana is seriously rotten. No way am I going to eat that!"

"Listen, your ass is scrawny enough as it is,” I tell her. “Eat something.”

Maya is really starting to piss me off. Lately, she's always in a bad mood. Maybe it's girl stuff. She just turned fourteen so I guess all that psycho hormonal crap is probably going on, not that she'd ever tell me.

Revised Entry 15 A.J. Spindle

2011-07-26T08:07:00.001-05:00

Name: A. J. Spindle
Entry #15
Title: The Bridge Between Two Minds
Genre: YA
Contact: ajspindle(at)yahoo(dot)com

Pitch: Seventeen-year-old Alice Reid can handle pain, she’s been trained to. But training isn’t enough when her best friend, Daniel Cole, takes a bullet for her. Being a student at KAT was supposed to be like a spy movie- a place where they train teens to work for the CIA. Now she has to deal with her emotions and find his killer before the killer finds her.

2nd line: If I hadn’t tripped, he’d still be here.

First 250 of 2nd Chapter:
Beep, beep, whir. Beep, beep, whir.

Low noises, white lights. I felt groggy and confused, my head heavier than normal. It took me a minute to realize I was dressed in a hospital gown, stretched out on a bed. Without moving I could feel the IV taped to my arm and shuddered, sending radiating waves of pain up my back. I sucked in a breath. I hate needles. I didn’t want to open my eyes with the bright lights over me, but someone was holding my hand. It was rough and calloused. I peeked from under my eyelids to find Dan sitting in the chair next to my bed.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked me. I stared at him, it was all I could do.

“Dan?” It was really him sitting next to me. Breathing. Alive. I must be dreaming.

“Yes, Alice?” he asked. “What do you need?”

“You’re not dead,” I said evenly. My voice was soft like a whisper but I knew he could hear me.

“Neither are you, thankfully.” He tried to smile. Had he been crying? His face betrayed no emotion, but behind his eyes I thought I saw something.

“I’m not dead?” I asked, my voice thick with uncertainty. I didn’t feel dead, but then again I had no idea what “dead” felt like.

“No,” he said and then his smile faltered. “Why did you take the bike?”

The bike. His bike that I had ruined in the crash.

Revision Contest Update

2011-07-18T07:38:00.005-05:00

Time for comments is now closed on the fifteen entries.

Please take your entry and make it shine then place in the comment section under this post.

Please include your name, contact info, and your post number.

You have until July 25th, then Natalie gets to take a gander at them.

Good luck!!

Update: There seems to be some confusion, so please let me elaborate and hopefully this will clear up the confusion. If there are any other questions, please do not hesitate to ask.

This is a revision contest.

Fifteen entries out of the 48 were chosen.

The fifteen chosen entries were posted where fellow writers can comment on the entries until today, July 18th. At this time, please use the comments to help tighten, correct, and or change the entries---or if it is perfect, leave it alone.

When you got your entry shining like a brand new penny, please post in the comment section below by July 25th. Please include your name, contact information, title and genre, and your post number.

I will repost the newly revised entry and Natalie will then judge and award super fab prizes.

The prizes are:

1st prize: A query critique and a first chapter critique

2nd prize: The first five pages and a query critique

3rd prize: A B&N gift card

If you have any other questions, please ask.

GOOD LUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Revision Contest Entries

2011-07-12T20:16:00.008-05:00

First, I want to thank Natalie Fischer for agreeing to do this. Please leave comments thanking her for her time.

And...

I want to thank all of you for participating and for following me. I'm planning on having more contests and interviews for you all to enjoy.

As you may or may not know, I'm all for contests. It is an awesome way to meet people and to get parts of your manuscripts read and feedback. AND, most contests have awesome prizes such as this one with a query and 1st chapter critique.

So...now off to the entries. I put all the names in the sorting hat, and my lovely assistant (okay, my son) pulled out the names of fifteen lucky people. Cuz...you know...I'm high tech like that.

As you can see, all the entries are now posted below. If I made a mistake, please be sure to let me know so that I can correct it.

Please follow the rules.

1) If your name was drawn and your entry is posted below, then feedback must be left for three entries. Of course, I invite everyone who wishes to leave comments. The more feedback one receives the better--writers helping writers and all that.

2) Please make the comments helpful without being rude.

3) If someone has a lot of comments, then please select another so that everyone can benefit. My hope is that everyone has at least three comments or more.

4) Comments will end July 18th. Then time for revisions if needed. Please check back on the 18th for further instructions.

Good luck!!

Entry 1 ashleydmaker

2011-07-12T20:13:00.003-05:00

Title: Under the Trees

Genre: YA Historical Fantasy Romance

Contact: ashleydmaker@yahoo.com

Short pitch: Desperate to escape an abusive arranged marriage, Princess Araya flees her father’s kingdom only to find herself at the mercy of Prince Thoredmund, the neighboring kingdom’s crown prince. After deciding to help Araya by hiding her in a forest near the castle, Thor has to cover their tracks with secrecy and lies. It isn’t long before the two royals start falling for each other, but their tentative new love is put on the line when Araya’s father and her betrothed show up, accusing Thor of kidnapping and demanding the return of their princess.

Second line of first paragraph of 1st chapter: Despite my burning muscles and the sweat rolling into my eyes, I could not let my horse slow down as we cleared fallen logs and ducked under branches.

First 250 words of second chapter: The hunting party intended to leave in the afternoon. After stopping and hearing requests and complaints in the villages along the way, we planned to set up camp under the yellow trees of the Golden Woods. Ten of my best men, all part of my signet guard, were to accompany me, in case we ran into trouble. Father feared we might.

“It has been too long since Darrell has pulled one of his stunts,” he said. “Expect trouble and be prepared. No harm can come from that.”

“My men are always prepared,” I replied. “They’re trained to anticipate such things as you say.”

I turned away to finish tying off my bag of supplies.

“Thor--” Father grasped my upper arm. “If you come across them, don’t underestimate them. Be careful. I fear Darrell is up to something. I don’t want to give him reason to cross the line.”

His words sobered me, but they were not unexpected. The feud between King Cyric, my father, and King Darrell of Rowlst was well known and had only worsened since the engagement between my sister and Darrell’s son had fallen apart. They fought over resources: the Golden Woods. The great woods were the most significant source of lumber for either kingdom, and the best game always came out of it. Darrell’s men frequently crossed the boundary from his side to ours, meaning we had to constantly patrol, making sure no one pushed the line.

Still, I gave him my promise before we set off.

Entry 2 mshatch

2011-07-12T20:12:00.004-05:00

Title and genre: The Way to Dendara/YA fantasy
Contact: marcy@tidewater.net

Pitch: Lucy, a young woman with bad dreams and a tragic past, inherits a kingdom. But it isn't the nice kingdom with the fairies and elves and wood sprites. It's the other one.

Second line, first paragraph: No return address, no postage, not even any tape to keep the paper from being torn.

First 250, second chapter: She saw it as soon as she woke. The creature. The thing that had stolen her away, standing by the only door, waiting, watching her with a cat’s yellow eyes. She looked around, noting the ornate bed and heavy velvet drapes, pulled back and tied.

This was not her room.

Dreaming, she thought, still dreaming. She closed her eyes and told herself to wake up, but when she opened her eyes again everything was just the same.

The room was immense, the size of her flat, and as richly appointed as the bed. The decor was French, all rococo and curved lines, plush upholstery in deep, vibrant colors. She could smell incense burning.

The creature hadn’t moved, still stood by the tall wooden door, watching her with its amber eyes. She had thought at first it was some horribly deformed person. She had hoped. But now she saw there could be no doubt about its lack of humanity. It was not a person at all. No person she’d ever seen had ridges or scars so perfectly made. No person was ever so tall or had hands like claws and no one wore leather armor except in books or movies.

She shuddered. Not real, she told herself. Couldn’t be. A dream. She would simply get up and leave, and this dream would slip into another from which she could awake.

Entry 3 Artemis Grey

2011-07-12T20:10:00.003-05:00

Title: Thornbriar
Genre: YA Fantasy Retelling
My Name: Artemis Grey
Email: Greyvaledesigns(at)gmail(dot)com

Pitch:

Most Ladies get china sets for their wedding. Beauty got a Beast with multiple personalities and a cursed magic kingdom nobody believed in.

Second Line:

Instead, the black shaft of the arrow passed through her ruby curls as she staggered sideways.

First 250 of Second Chapter:

Beauty spent the duration of the remainder of her journey sequestered in the shadows of Liivan’s coach. The Senior merchant attended her for an evening meal and for breakfast the following morning but otherwise let her be. She did not again ask about the possibly bestial Woodlord. Part of her truly wanted to, for would it not be better to know of what she faced? But then, in a way, it didn’t matter. She would be marrying him regardless.

It was much easier to uphold her fierce determination and bold resolve within the shelter of the coach. The peculiar way in which the Altheans had moved around her made all the more sense now. They had seen from the moment she’d been introduced that she did not fully understand her own situation.

Her cheeks burned to think of it but when she spoke to Liivan, it was with easy elegance and lovely smiles. The strange people of Althea might think her a simpering, foolish maiden, but Beauty would make the most splendid Queen they could have ever imagined. Her beauty had brought her this far, it would serve her yet.

Selene did not have the same spine on the matter. Of course, Selene was plain, in manner more than feature. Her demeanor only dimmed what would have else wise been a comely enough face. Beauty had no patience for the quailing of her handmaiden and might have left her standing beside the roadway if it wouldn’t have caused talk later.

Entry 4 Sherry Auger

2011-07-12T20:07:00.003-05:00

title: A June Snowstorm in Maine
genre: chapter book
contact: ricksgalsherry@msn.com

pitch:

Abigail sets out to save a local mom and pop grocery store destined to become a school bus turn-around. The once hated store that doesn't sell junk food has become a store she couldn't live without.

2nd line 1st paragraph 1st chapter

Yes, the store really is called Mr. Pickle's!

1st 250 words 2nd chapter

But now, on the way to Mr. Pickle’s store with Mom, I don’t understand how I ever survived without Mrs. Pickle’s whole-wheat carrot and pineapple muffins, or the heavenly zucchini bread she makes. When we arrived at Mr. Pickle’s he greets us like he always does.

“Hello! Hello Mrs. Snoot, Miss Snoot. How are you on this fine spring day?”

Of course, he doesn’t always say ‘spring.’ He’ll use whatever season it happens to be. Just thought I should point that out.

“We’re just fine, Mr. Pickle. How are you and Mrs. Pickle doing?” asks Mom, handing Mr. Pickle her grocery list. Mr. Pickle always insists on getting our groceries himself. He’s nice that way.

“Well,” begins Mr. Pickle. “We would be much better if we didn’t have to close our store by the tenth of June.”

“What!” I yell. “Close your store? You’ve been here forever. Not that you’re old or anything, but for as long as I can remember, and Mom can remember, and anyone I know can remember! You can’t do it. What would you do? Where would you go? Where would we buy our groceries?”

“Hush now Abigail,” Mom says. “Give Mr. Pickle a chance to explain before you pressure him with all your questions.”

“Sorry Mr. Pickle. Sorry Mom,” I say, hopping from one foot to the other impatiently.

“That’s okay dear,” says Mr. Pickle handing me a crispy and chewy oatmeal cookie. “It’s the highway’s fault really. Someone has decided that another school bus turn-around is needed and it’s being put here. There are more suitable places, but you know how those folks can be.

Entry 5 Lori M Lee

2011-07-12T20:04:00.003-05:00

Title: Soul Without a Boy
Genre: YA urban fantasy
Contact: leemai82 at gmail dot com

Pitch:

When 17-year-old London Howell inadvertently "creates" a girl, drawing the attention of the city's ruling magus family, he must decide if the answers to newly raised questions about himself and his family are worth the price of the girl's soul.

--
Second line of the very first paragraph of the 1st chapter:

It was crouched against the wooden post of a neighbor's mailbox, little more than a shadow with large-knuckled fingers that raked at empty air.

--
First 250 words of your second chapter:

The boy with her—Asian, with dark hair braided back into cornrows—gave Amun a cursory glance before addressing London. "What House are you from?"

London wasn't about to tell them where he lived. He pointed over his shoulder.

The girl with the ponytail laughed.

"What's the name of your House?" Cornrows asked, his words edged with impatience now.

"My house's name?" London repeated, confused. "Can't say we've ever named it." At the boy's tightening jaw, he offered, "Harold?"

"You think you're funny?" he asked, voice rising.

London didn't think so, but that didn't stop him from trying. Humor was a tool, an ice breaker. Or maybe an ice pick, more exact, a way to direct a conversation from topics that were either uncomfortable or too personal.

"Or maybe you're just stupid," Cornrows said. He reminded London of the football players at school—too much competition, not enough anger management. Their animosity was more amusing than anything else.

Entry 6 Bethany

2011-07-12T20:02:00.003-05:00

Title: MARTYR
Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Contact: Bethany Ray

PITCH: When she is thrust unwillingly into a deadly feud between politics and the mafia, all Evelyn wants to do is save the Senator's daughter. In order to do that, she has to be willing to go on the offensive, sacrificing her own safety - and possibly her own life.

SECOND SENTENCE OF FIRST CHAPTER: "You know ignoring my dad isn't going to help. He'll just send the secret service after you."

FIRST 250 OF SECOND CHAPTER:
The sun shining through my living room windows woke me up a week later much earlier than normal. The blackout curtains in my own bedroom let me sleep in as late as I wanted on the weekends, something Chloe was probably enjoying very much.

Already annoyed with waking up on my couch in a house my money was paying for; my body flexed and stretched the kinks and tightness. The white leather couch was aesthetically pleasing, especially with the cream colored carpeting and the bright green walls of living room. It wasn’t, however, comfortable enough to sleep on.

Perturbed and in need of more sleep, my hand was already on the knob to my bedroom door when rustling came from inside. Not wanting to walk in on my guest, I stood in front of the door assuming she would emerge shortly and let me have my room. Instead, after a few moments the sound of the showering from my master bathroom sounded.

Wrapping the quilt from the couch tighter around my shoulders, I opted for coffee instead of my own shower and clean clothes. It was only the first day of my new living arrangement, and already I was missing Amber. While she might have been a bitch and a little bit crazy, she at least knew how much I loved sleeping in my own bed and taking a shower first thing in the morning.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her furniture would be coming soon. The semester started even sooner. The more than modest salary coming in was enough to make me grin and bear it.

Entry 7 Kate Larkindale

2011-07-12T19:58:00.003-05:00

TITLE: Chasing the Taillights
GENRE: YA Contemporary
CONTACT: katelarkindale(at)gmail(dot)com

PITCH: Lucy and Tony share nothing except their genetic code. When a car accident kills their parents and leaves Lucy scarred - both physically and emotionally - she and Tony are thrown together and forced to rely on one another in a way they've never had to before. As they struggle to come to terms with their loss, and each other, they discover they might have more in common than they thought.

2nd LINE OF 1ST PARA.: I strain to push the lids up, but they’re already wide.

1ST 250 WORDS OF 2ND CHAPTER:

I cup my chin in my hand and stare at the screen, fingers scraping across unshaven stubble. It’s not late, but I find myself drifting off to sleep in front of the computer. My leaden eyes close and my head drops down toward the heavy wooden desk. I snap myself awake and shake my head. This assignment isn’t going to write itself, is it? Focus. Focus. World War II. That’s what you’re supposed to be thinking about. More importantly, the economic factors that led to World War II. I bite the inside of my cheek and the sharp bloom of pain makes me start. With the salty taste of my own blood flooding my tongue, I begin typing again.

I’m dragged away from hyper-inflation and the rise of the Nazi party by the insistent ringing of the phone. I realize it’s been shrilling for several minutes now, and wonder why neither of my roommates picked it up. Maybe they’re not home; it is Saturday night after all. It’s only jocks like me who have to spend Saturday nights catching up on schoolwork. Parties are just one of the things I sacrifice for my sport. Diving’s a huge time suck.

“Okay, okay… I’m coming.” I drag myself out of my chair, stumbling over the sneakers I kicked off earlier. My legs ache. A four hour practice can do that, especially when it’s all platform. Climbing all those stairs is a killer.

I scoop up the phone from the kitchen counter, half-expecting whoever’s at the other end to have hung up. “Hello?”

Entry 8 E. Arroyo

2011-07-12T19:56:00.003-05:00

Title: Some Kind Of Trouble
Genre: YA Contemporary
Contact: elizabeth.arroyo5@gmail.com

Pitch: After a drive-by shooting leaves Arianna with an unexpected boyfriend, she finds that love alone won’t save him from life on the streets.

2nd Line: I once chanted one hundred and three thousand times in one night for my mom to get better.

2nd chptr:

I awoke the next morning with David standing beside my bed, already dressed.

“Where’s mom?” he asked.

“She’s at the clinic. What time is it?” I asked, still nestled under the covers.

“Seven.”

I jumped out of bed, got caught in the sheets and went sprawling to the floor. “Shit.” David laughed as I scampered to the bathroom. “Are you ready?” I asked him while brushing my teeth and pulling my hair in a tail. I had thirty minutes to drop him off and get my butt to school. I didn’t wait for him to answer. “Get my keys and turn on the car and come back inside.” I rinsed my mouth and ran to my room frantically searching for my school uniform, which I found where I had left it: on a chair near my bed. I grunted, threw it on and ran downstairs.

It was seven-ten when I grabbed my jacket and got in my car, three minutes after I realized I left David and went back for him, and six minutes after that I dropped him off at school. I got to school late.

I entered Mr. Hanlon’s class and froze. In the front row away from the door sat Rebecca Townsend. In my seat. I narrowed my eyes and wanted to remind her that she usually sat near the door with Marcus when Mr. Hanlon spoke.

“There’s a chair near the door,” he told me.
Of course there was a chair near the door. It was her spot. I turned and sat down hard, dropped my book bag on the floor and took off my jacket. This day could not get any worse.

I was so wrong.

Entry 9 Lydia Sharp

2011-07-12T19:54:00.003-05:00

Title: SOCIAL GRACES
Genre: YA Contemp
Contact: lydiasharp4sff (at) yahoo (dot) com

Pitch:

At the start of her senior year, Rocklyn Geiger is moving from the city to the backwoods. Now she must come out as a lesbian all over again, in a school that's more tightly laced than her Doc Marten boots. As Rocklyn awkwardly navigates through foreign waters, she finds new friends, her first love, and an unexpected confrontation with an old enemy.

Second line of 1st par.:

I prefer to walk, to relish every step of my final trek across town.

First 250 words of 2nd chapter:

Sunday, August 20, 1995

I pass Candy in the hall on my way down to breakfast. She's all sweaty from her daily morning run, which never accomplishes anything. She refuses to accept that she'll always have a baby pooch.

"Hey, slut," I say.

"Hey, dyke."

This is about as affectionate as it gets between us. At least we acknowledged each other.

The kitchen smells like a typical Sunday morning--coffee, maple syrup, and bacon grease. Dad's sipping from a mug and reading the Plain Dealer. Mom's fussing over my nephew in the high chair, trying to get him to stop throwing Cheerio's at the stove while she's cooking. I'm pretty sure he hasn't cut any teeth yet, so why she gave him Cheerio's is a mystery.

But everything Mom does is a mystery, really.

My little brother, Jeremy--Mom's "change of life" baby--explodes into smiles when he sees me. I ruff up his hair then sit across from him, grab a plate of bacon and ignore the rest of the spread.

Dad leans over and pecks my forehead. "Good morning, Rocklyn."

Sure it is. "What're you so happy about?" I ask Jeremy.

"We're moving!" He thrusts both hands in the air like he just scored a touchdown.

"Don't remind me."

"Ring, ring!" He drops his fork full of pancakes and mimes picking up a telephone. "Oh hi, Snow White. You're looking for Grumpy? Yeah, hang on." He hands me his invisible phone. "It's for you."

Only Jeremy could get me to laugh at such an outright insult.

Entry 10 Nora Coon

2011-07-12T19:52:00.004-05:00

Title: Insulin Junkies
Genre: YA contemporary
Contact: Nora Coon, nora.e.coon[AT]gmail[DOT]com

Pitch: Eva knows something’s wrong long before the doctor diagnoses her with diabetes - no seventeen-year-old wakes up having wet the bed for the fourth time in as many days and thinks, “Yep, this is totally normal.” When her parents send her to diabetes camp, though, she discovers that being an insulin junkie doesn't transform you into a saint - far from it.

2nd Line: The door doesn't lock, so I haul the big metal trash can in front of it, hoping it’ll keep some people from coming in, and stand there in nothing but my shirt, washing my underwear.

250 of Ch. 2: I make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich: two tablespoons of jam, two tablespoons of peanut butter, two slices of bread. I wonder if I’ll think of all food in terms of carbohydrates for the rest of my life. I draw up my lunchtime insulin injection - just short-acting insulin, this time - and my hands sweat, my palms prickling, as I try to decide if I can do it myself. I hold the syringe like a pencil, which feels wrong, and then like a joint, which feels even stranger. Just stab your arm, I tell myself. Just do it. It doesn't hurt that much. What's wrong with you, just do it!

I can't. I even touch the tip of the needle to my skin, like maybe it will jump out of my hand and just inject me on its own, but I can't go further. "Mom," I say at last.

She raises her head a little. "What is it?" She's hoarse - how has she gone hoarse since I've been sitting here?

"Can you...?" I gesture with the syringe, and I see her flinch before she collects herself and holds out one mute hand.

I give her the syringe, plunger end first, and slide my chair over next to her, chair legs screeching on the floor. Mom starts to cry when she slides the needle into my skin, and for the first time all morning, I can't help being a little annoyed with her too.

Entry 11 Susan Oloier

2011-07-12T19:51:00.002-05:00

Title: OUTCAST
Genre: YA Contemporary
Contact: Susan Oloier (susanoloier[at]gmail[dot]com

Pitch:
She wasn’t supposed to fall for Chad; he was part of the revenge plan. But Noelle risks friendship, love, and self to get even with Trina.

Second line of first paragraph of first chapter:
I felt it in the desert breeze, heard it in the sounds of broad tailed hummingbirds and mourning doves, and stared at it in the bathroom mirror.

First 250 from second chapter:

The ocotillos writhed and twisted out of the sandy, desert floor as dust devils curled and raced one another. The monsoon season proved a fraud, leaving the last of the autumn months dry and arid.

As I ran that morning, the September sun bled carmine and tangerine from its place in the eastern sky. The Arizona fever scorched the alien, oxide green of the golf courses to a raw sienna. Cumulous clouds, tethered to the air, taunted us. In the Midwest, people call this heat Indian summer. To us, it was a cool-down from the daunting summer temperatures of 120 degrees.

It was Sunday. Another Sunday of wiggling my way out of church. It became a ritual, a ceremony, and a game. I crept down the stairs with predatory stealth, slipping out the back door before my mother even realized I was awake. I escaped the house early enough to avoid 8:00 a.m. mass. My Reeboks beat a rhythm on the asphalt of Civic Center Boulevard. Sweat dampened my sports bra, pooled between my breasts.

The beat of The Black Eyed Peas greeted me as I labored through the door, and I knew Becca had evaded church, too. She took advantage of every moment, every second, of our parents’ absence. She paraded around the living room, phone pressed to her ear. She spotted me and made a curt one-eighty.

“Oh my God! Tell me he did not say that.”
Her chats always revolved around some guy. The new one: Carl.

Entry 12 A. E. Martin

2011-07-12T19:11:00.005-05:00

Title: Graveyard Phoenix
Genre: Adult Urban Fantasy
Contact: aje237@yahoo.com

Pitch: When necromancer Blaise Evarin suddenly starts resurrecting people who get four days of true life again, she has to deal with severe political and religious backlash. Things become more complicated when several of her recent resurrections remain alive, go berserk, and embark on murderous rampages. And that's only problem number one.

Second line of first paragraph: I fought not to show my annoyance at the whimpering, weeping woman as I took the blood from her; I don't even know why she'd picked it up.

First 250 of 2nd chapter:

After Gideon seemed stable enough with the resurrection, I called his family over and they smothered him. I stepped back to collect the empty blood container, and watched as the grave diggers covered the open grave with a tarp. Since Gideon would be going back down in a few days, it didn't make sense to fill it up again.

His family was doing a lot of hugging and crying, but Gideon seemed to be in shock, because he was holding himself stiffly and avoiding eye contact with them. Everyone came back acting differently. Some were back to themselves in a snap, and others screamed and wailed for an hour before they could be made to understand what was going on. Gideon seemed to be an internal, confused screamer.

Once again, watching a person who'd been dead not ten minutes ago walking, breathing, and talking, made me feel strange. I couldn’t help but think that no one should have this sort of power, least of all me. These past months I’d worked hard at not letting hysterics get the best of me every time I had to do this, but it was always a struggle. The fact that in four days I’d be back here watching Gideon succumb to death for the second time didn’t make it any easier.
Stop thinking so damn much, I said to myself. If I continued down this road I'd end up losing my mind. I took a deep breath and walked over to the Tillars.

Entry 13 Erin L Schneider

2011-07-12T19:10:00.003-05:00

Title: THE LUCKY FEW
Genre: YA Contemporary Thriller
Contact: elschneider@hotmail.com

1) Pitch:

For over six hundred years, 99.9% of the world’s most powerful and influential leaders, scientists, CEOs - and yes, even most of Hollywood’s elite – successfully achieved greatness because of one thing…they were chosen. When a mysterious invitation shows up at sixteen-year-old Blakely Sullivan’s door, she can’t help but wonder what she’s gotten herself into now. Little does she know, she’s the next in line.

2) The second line of the very first paragraph of the 1st chapter:

Those were the only words in perfect, jet-black calligraphy that crossed the formal white parchment of the invitation.

3) The first 250 words of your second chapter:

"First things first, I'm sure you're all wondering who I am. My name is Thaddeus Vaughan, but please, call me Thad; I’m the Dean here at Oren Preparatory.” He shifted slightly in his seat as he rested his hands along the surface of the table. “In order for us all to get to know one another, why don't we go around the table, introduce ourselves, and tell everyone one interesting fact, shall we?" He motioned to the boy sitting to his left, who sat across from me.

"Reid Whittley, nice to meet you all. And one thing about me? I’ve been riding and racing motorcycles since the age of four." He said it with such a matter-of-fact tone as he nodded at everyone around the room, until his frost blue eyes came to rest on mine. Unlike the glare he'd given me earlier, this time his lips curled up into a devilish grin as he winked my way; the motion lightning fast, I'm not sure if anyone else around me noticed. I found myself blushing – the twinge of déjà vu I’d seen that wink before, flittered at the back of my mind - as I turned my gaze to the girl sitting next to him.

"Hello, my name is Naomi Forbes and yes, it’s a pleasure to meet you all. Let’s see, one thing about me is that I entered and won the Miss California Teen USA pageant last year." She smiled a cheesy, politician-style grin at everyone around the table, but it faded as it got to me.

Entry 14 Carol Anne

2011-07-12T19:08:00.003-05:00

Title: The Picasso Project

Genre: YA Contemporary 

My name and email: Carol Anne Shaw shawshack(at)shawshack(dot)ca

Pitch: The world hasn’t been kind to Eddie DuMont. He knows more than his fair share about betrayal, abandonment and fear. The first lesson came when his abusive father left home a few years earlier, and the second, soon afterwards when his mother was hospitalized with mental illness. Now it’s just Eddie and Maya, his fourteen-year-old sister, living in a beat up 1984 Buick Le Sabre in a clearing in the woods. The rules are simple when you live the way they do. Lay low. Trust no one, and make sure you have plenty of Duct tape on hand.

2nd line: Eddie knows he’ll remember the stupidest things about this day, like the white enamel saucepan on the stove that’s full of ravioli and the way the tomato sauce has bubbled over the sides.

250 of 2nd chap:  

“Why do I have to wear this stupid coat, anyway?” my sister asks. She’s at that age where she thinks it’s cool to walk around in tee shirts in the pouring rain and get soaked.
"Because you do," I tell her, "so don't argue."

"Eddie, why do you have to boss me around so much?" She thrusts her arms angrily into the sleeves when I hold up the green coat for her to put on. As coats go, it's not bad. Almost new, down filled with pockets and zippers everywhere, and the best part was that it was only eight bucks. Some days you just get lucky.

"Someone's gotta do it."

She flips me the bird and starts to walk off toward the trees.

"Wait up," I call after her. "You forgot your lunch."

I push the plastic grocery bag into her hand and she looks inside it hopefully, like by some miracle there’s going to be a massive corned beef on rye sandwich or a couple of super-sized brownies inside it. Right.

"Yuk, muffins again? These are totally stale, Eddie, and that banana looks completely rotten. No way am I going to eat that!"

"Listen, your ass is scrawny enough as it is,” I tell her. “Eat something.”

Maya is really starting to piss me off. She's always in a bad mood these days. Maybe it's girl stuff. She just turned fourteen so I guess all that weird hormonal crap is probably going on, not that she'd tell me.

Entry 15 A. J. Spindle

2011-07-12T19:05:00.003-05:00

Title: The Bridge Between Two Minds
Genre: YA
Contact: ajspindle(at)yahoo(dot)com

Pitch: Seventeen-year-old Alice Reid can handle pain, she’s been trained to. But training isn’t enough when her best friend, Daniel Cole, takes a bullet for her. Being a student at KAT was supposed to be like a spy movie, a place where they train teens to work for the CIA. Now she has to deal with her emotions and find his killer before the killer finds her.

2nd line: If I hadn’t tripped, he’d still be here; Alive.

First 250 of 2nd Chapter:
Beep, beep, whir. Beep, beep, whir.

Low noises, white lights. My body hurt like no other. I felt groggy and confused, my head heavier than normal. It took me a minute to realize I was dressed in a hospital gown, stretched out on a bed. Without moving I could feel the IV taped to my arm and shuddered, sending pain radiating up my spine. I sucked in a breath. Ew, I hate needles. I didn’t want to open my eyes with the bright lights over me, but someone was holding my hand. It was rough and calloused. I peeked from under my eyelids to find Dan sitting in the chair next to my bed.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked me. I stared at him, it was all I could do.

“Dan?” It was really him sitting next to me. Breathing. Alive.

“Yes, Alice?” he asked. “What do you need?”

“You’re not dead,” I said evenly. My voice was soft like a whisper but I knew he could hear me.

“Neither are you, thankfully.” He tried to smile. Had he been crying? His face betrayed no emotion, but behind his eyes I thought I saw something.

“I’m not dead?” I asked, my voice thick with uncertainty. I didn’t feel dead, but then again I had no idea what “dead” felt like.

“No,” he said and then his smile faltered. “Why did you take the bike?”

The bike. His bike that I had ruined in the crash.

Revision Contest

2011-07-05T06:16:00.005-05:00

Sorry, the contest is now closed.

I'm so very happy to be hosting another contest with agent extraordinaire Natalie Fischer from the Bradford Literary Agency.

You can follow Natalie at her blog where she gives awesome writing advice and twitter. I was lucky enough to interview Natalie and you can check that out here.

The contest we are hosting is focused on revisions. A very important part of the writing process that not only needs to be concentrated on the first chapter, but throughout the entire manuscript.

Now off to the contest.

Please read and follow the rules. If you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask.

Your submission should contain:

1) Write a short pitch. No more than two or three sentences. We need to know what your book is about.

2) The second line of the very first paragraph of the 1st chapter.

3) The first 250 words of your second chapter.

4) Please include your title, the genre, and a way to contact you.

5) Post in the comment section.

What will happen next:

I will take the first 50 entries or the contest will end July 11th. Which ever comes first.

I will randomly select 15 entries and post them by July 13th for comments.

Comments will end by July 18th.

At that time you will be given a chance to revise your entry and repost it by July 25th.

Natalie will judge and then reward super awesome prizes cuz she is a super awesome agent.

Rules:

If your entry is included within the ones randomly selected, then you must comment at least on three different entries.

If you won in my previous awesome contest with Gina Panettieri then please do not enter this contest. That does not include the honorable mentions--you can still enter.

You have to be a follower. You know...cuz it's my blog and I get to do that.

Prizes:

1st----A query critique and the first chapter.

2nd---A query critique and the first five pages

3rd---B and N gift card

Good luck everyone. Can't wait to see what ya got!!!!

Revision Contest Rules

2011-07-01T06:09:00.005-05:00

I'm really excited to be having a contest with super agent Natalie Fischer. Natalie is an agent with Bradford Literary Agency.

First and foremost:

DO NOT POST SUBMISSIONS YET!!!
The contest starts July 5th

This is just for the rules so if you have any questions you can post a comment and I can answer them.

Why? This contest is going to be a little different than the usual contests because we are focusing on revisions.

Everyone always worries about the first line, first paragraph, and first chapter. We want to see the second.

So, here we go!

Your submission should contain:

1) Write a short pitch. No more than two or three sentences. We need to know what your book is about.

2) The second line of your very first paragraph of the 1st chapter.

3) The first 250 words of your second chapter.

4) Please include your title, the genre, and a way to contact you.

What will happen next:

I will take the first 50 entries or the contest will end July 11th. Which ever comes first.

I will randomly select 15 entries and post them by July 13th for comments.

Comments will end by July 18th.

At that time you will be given a chance to revise your entry and repost it by July 25th.

Natalie will judge and then reward super awesome prizes cuz she is a super awesome agent.

Rules:

If your entry is included within the ones randomly selected, then you must comment at least on three different entries.

If you won in my previous awesome contest with Gina Panettieri then please do not enter this contest.

You have to be a follower.

Prizes:

1st----A query critique and the first chapter.

2nd---A query critique and the first five pages

3rd---B and N gift card

Cool. Huh?

So get those submissions ready!!!!!

Utica Writers Club

2011-06-24T07:41:00.003-05:00

Hi all,

Today I have a special guest joining me------Jordan Mierek. YAY!!

Jordan is the vice president of Utica Writers Club--and she won an honorable mention from super awesome Gina Panettieri.

Anyway, she stopped by with some stellar information for my followers and friends about a workshop coming in July.

Soooo, let's meet Jordan:

Tell us who you are and the members of your writing club.

My name is Jordan Mierek, and I am the vice president of the Utica Writers Club. This July, we are hosting a writing workshop with guest speaker, Maria V. Snyder. The Utica Writers Club is a not-for-profit, nationally recognized organization. I first heard about the club when they held a short story contest. I won first place and received free membership for a year. The only writing groups I’d belonged to in the past were online, but I’ve gained a wealth of knowledge from meeting in person. The other members are always supportive.

The club meets every 4^th Wednesday of the month, from 6pm to 8:45 pm, at the Kirkland Town Library in Clinton, New York. Membership fees are $10 a year, but you can come and listen to the group without paying. Each meeting, we discuss club matters and then take turns reading our works.

Tell us how the writing club was formed and the purpose it serves.

The club’s website is found here: http://www.uticawritersclub.org/index.html

Our facebook page is found here: http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Utica-Writers-Club/219901691370530

The Utica Writers Club is a not-for-profit organization based in the City of Utica in the beautiful hills and valleys of Upstate New York. The Club was established over 60 years ago, when a few elderly women began meeting at each other's homes. Since then, the Club's diversification of peoples, styles, and aspirations have expanded greatly.

Our mission is to foster the art of writing among members and to support and encourage non-member writers in the community. So if your interest is in writing for pleasure or profit, or if you simply enjoy listening to stories, you have a place at the Utica Writers Club. By attending meetings, Club and community members are able to network, revise their literary works, and discuss markets for works in an open and friendly atmosphere. Many members and guest speakers have been published many times, and can often offer insight and advice to aspiring writers.

Tell us about Maria and what type of books she writes.

A few years ago, I read Maria’s novel POISON STUDY, and fell in love with it. The characters are realistic and captivating, and the storyline is unique. The back of the book included Maria’s author biography, as well as her email address. Whenever I read a book I enjoy, I make sure to tell the author. I emailed Maria and she actually wrote back. Her reply was personal, not a form, which I usually received from authors. Since then, we have kept up our correspondence and she has proven very helpful in my own writing endeavors. When the Utica Writers Club was discussing which author they wanted to host a writing workshop, I knew Maria would be a great candidate.

Maria V. Snyder was originally a meteorologist before she became a novelist. She is the author of the New York Times best-selling Study series (POISON STUDY, MAGIC STUDY, and FIRE STUDY), the award winning Glass series (STORM GLASS, SEA GLASS, and SPY GLASS), and the Insider books (INSIDE OUT and OUTSIDE IN). She has also written numerous short stories for anthologies. She is currently working on a new fantasy series and the first book, TOUCH OF POWER, is to be published January 2012.

Tell us about the workshop.

The writing workshop will be held on July 16, 2011 at the Kirkland Town Library in Clinton, New York. It will run from 1 pm to 4 pm. The cost is $25, and the registration form is located here: http://uticawritersclub.org/workshop.html. Maria will also have signed copies of her books available for purchase.

The itinerary for the event is the following:
1 pm-1:45 pm - Writing Fiction, Tips, Techniques, Rules and Breaking the Rules

2:00-2:45 - How to Get Published

3:00-3:30 - Question/Answer Session
3:30 – Door Prizes/Thank You/Autograph