Wednesday, October 28, 2015

NoQS Minion 7: MEGA GIRL, YA Cont. Fantasy

Genre: Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy
Word Count: 68,000

My Main Character's Most Fearsome Obsession is:

Lauren needs her food. The more carbs, the better. It’s pretty much the best perk of being a superhero. Five helpings of dinner — and dessert — without busting the seams of her super suit. Unfortunately, her freakish metabolism doesn’t just burn through calories of a Gut Bombs D’Nuts daily special faster than a speeding bullet; it’s also burning its way through her dad’s wallet. When a local business makes her an endorsement offer, it seems like a great way to fund her Turbo Bar addiction. That is, until it throws her secret identity, and everyone she loves, into jeopardy.


Lauren (aka, Mega Girl) obeys two rules of superheroing. Rule #1: Retain secret identity so friends and family remain safe. Rule #2: Don’t let superhero life interfere with regular, 16-year-old life. Like, don’t decapitate the homeroom desk for the fifth time with sporadic super strength or flunk biology so craptastically you need a tutor. And if Lauren’s not careful, studying so close next to said tutor, Dane, with that alt-rock floppy hair and eclectic music tastes, could lead to breaking Rule #1.

After a few scuffles leave Mega-Girl-sized holes around the city, she makes headlines in all the wrong ways. A trending superhero-hating blog and grade-A-diva supervillain Malibu join forces on a Mega Girl man-hunt to deep-six Lauren’s cherished superhero career. When Malibu discovers her real name and threatens to shatter her loved ones beneath her stilettos, Lauren needs to choose whether Dane — and everyone else — knowing her secret is worth breaking all her rules of superheroing.

First 250 words:

Three crimson slashes carve their mark. My pulse echoes against my temples like they’re against throbbing speakers. I taste copper and swallow only to have it lodge in my throat until I gasp.

An F.

“Miss Chapman?”

“Huh?” I look up.

Standing in the aisle in front of me is Mr. Smiley. His eyes blink behind hockey-puck thick glasses. Stifled giggles flutter throughout the classroom. 

“I asked if there was a problem.”

Every pair of eyes, including those of the plastic gutted frog on Smiley’s desk, is on me. I bunch my hoodie’s extra long sleeves around my fists and stare at the floor.

“No. It’s nothing.”

Mr. Smiley’s fingertips pale as he presses them on my desk. He leans closer so I have to smell his coffee breath.

“I’d like to see you after class,” he whispers.

I don’t look up. I nod, and stuff the biology quiz deep inside my torn canvas backpack. There. Now I can pretend it doesn’t exist, at least for the forty minutes I’m stuck in this musty lab classroom.

Mr. Smiley returns to his desk and checks his laptop. Next to me, Kendra Wooten flips her auburn hair, flashing a purple streak. “Who flunks biology?”

I sink lower in my seat and it trembles like it’s experiencing 5.4 on the Richter scale. Pull it together, Lauren. Bs, Cs or the rare D, sure, but never an F. Dad’s going to kill me.

Or worse, ground me from going on patrol tonight.


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