It's free pass time!
I really love doing these! It's like a random act of kindness. It allows one person who might not have made it into the contest to have a shot at the agents. The free pass winner will skip the slush and become one of my final picks for #QueryKombat!
You'll only have to survive the round one battle to go to the agent round!
And you are guaranteed constructive comments from the judges!
The Free Pass is the great equalizer!
That's the way to hit it out of the ballpark!
Did I mention that we have 29 agents already? 29 agents!
Even Iron Man is astonished!
So here we go:
1. I've been enjoying #1LineWed and want to do something similar. Leave a blog comment below with a favorite line or lines from the manuscript you plan to enter. That's it. No other information about your ms allowed--such as genre. It's more fun just to have the lines and no context. This is strictly for fun. The writing won't be judged or anything. Winner will be based on a random drawing by the rafflecopter.
2. You also need to use the rafflecopter to record that you left a comment. The rafflecopter will pick the winner. If you aren't in there, you can't win. There will be additional options to score more entries and raise your chances. They are options having to do with my books and that's why they are optional, but I appreciate your support!
And good luck!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Fifty years to learn the craft, two weeks to destroy all magic, and 70 years slowly waiting to grow old enough to die. #1lineWedReplyDelete
She retracted one hand from prayer position to check the fall of her braid, an attempt to rein in the telltales of her eclipse birth.ReplyDelete
Adults?! Whose fault do you think all this is in the first place?ReplyDelete
“Mission successful though?” Antonia asked.ReplyDelete
“A little bloodier than I had planned, but easy enough.”
“Well, change before you report to Z. Your easy job is still all over your clothes.”
I stopped before I went crazy because the challenge with crazy is it’s a trip deep into a forest with no breadcrumbs to follow out.ReplyDelete
Good news; I no longer wanted to jump his bones.ReplyDelete
Tommy, who’d mastered only a fraction of the manners suited for someone of his fifteen years, pointed to the supplies in the back of the truck and asked, “What are the coffins for?”ReplyDelete
He slides into the passenger seat, and the shadow of the dark-tinted window falls across his face. Something inside me shifts once again.ReplyDelete
How much had that philosophy of silence cost us?ReplyDelete
When the rains came, the bones would rise up.ReplyDelete
She'd been skating by, sure that her resolve to serve the temple and the goddess would come eventually.ReplyDelete
It never had, and now Asiresa wondered if she had waited too long to admit it.
I feel a movement in my chest like flight, like chimney birds as they rush toward the sky with their quick wings and sharp turns.ReplyDelete
I am the ghoul of her nightmares.ReplyDelete
But she had that glow, natural and light as a peach, the touch of a warm cup of chamomile tea that could make anyone comfortable. Especially me.ReplyDelete
I shove him through the exit and possibly for the second time in five minutes take out the tip of a nose when I slam the dressing room door shut in his face.ReplyDelete
Aren’t you worried about her dad finding out?ReplyDelete
Juvenile, maybe. Sexually discriminating – definitely. But no harm could come from being surrounded by hot men for the obligatory four years required to receive a bachelor’s degree.ReplyDelete
I remember the day the world ceased to be all jungle, the river unending, me a pebble among other pebbles upon the riverbank.ReplyDelete
Looking forward to QueryKombat 2018. By the way, do we follow on G+ or subscribe to properly follow the blog?ReplyDelete
Rob stares around, like he expects Mac to pop out of the stock-room like some sort of Glaswegian cuckoo-clock.ReplyDelete
Adventure, it turns out, is only exciting until it kills you.ReplyDelete
‘See you,’ they answered as one, tracking her through hungry eyes. Max heard the murmurs even before she’d crossed the road. No single word had clarity. The hushed tones spoke volumes.ReplyDelete
Her all-black eyes stared into his as she parted her full red lips, matte and velvet, and drew in a breath, tasting the loam and the tree dust and a hint of Michael’s smoke, tinged with the metallic taint of his knife.ReplyDelete
The gentle music in the air, the soft cushion of the couch, the smell of cake in the air, the taste of chocolate on my tongue—it was heaven.ReplyDelete
As Christine took a sip from her cafe mocha, her eyes closed with delighted eyelid flutters while she breathed in, filling her lungs with the delicious aroma, and let out a small groan of delight. She was damp from the rain and chilled from the over-zealous air conditioning. In her hand, she cradled warmth, chocolate, and caffeine, every one of her immediate felt needs was met in a recyclable coffee cup.ReplyDelete
I opened my eyes to blue overhead and blue underneath, was this then the color of death?ReplyDelete
“Sacrificium.” The faint voice spoke in a creepy whisper. Helen hadn’t taken Latin, but she sure as hell got the gist.ReplyDelete
Below, the smudgy-edged disc of Planet Earth seems to curve up and spread continent-sized arms to greet me.ReplyDelete
Now that is what I call humbling.
Take a risk, go for the moon, find your Forever.ReplyDelete
Posted for Carolyn Chambers Clark
“I just zip-tied my own keys down there, didn’t I?”ReplyDelete
Donatiya Shorr insisted on visiting her divination teacher, even though everybodyReplyDelete
knew that man was a murderer.
The manic face on the cover of my old abnormal psych textbook smiled like she knew all my awkward secrets. She did. I was in those pages, somewhere.ReplyDelete
That was where we lost him--where we planted seeds that have now grown into landmines.ReplyDelete
Beating my father was something I did every so often, which is not often enough. If I have any hope of beating an extraterrestrial force, then I need to beat my father first. No matter how scary he can be, he is still just as much as prey as I am.ReplyDelete
Her gaze narrowed. "Ambassador? Ambassadors are rarely as dangerous as you."ReplyDelete
"I will tell you my truth when you are ready to tell me yours."
"Well, that's the funny thing about stories, Millie. There are no accidents."ReplyDelete
She walks lower to the ground now, like the family car when it’s packed for a long trip.ReplyDelete
This comment has been removed by the author.ReplyDelete
Nothing here is permanent, except death.ReplyDelete
Not every girl chained to a rock was rescued just in time from a monster attack by a handsome hero. No, in real life, if the girl couldn’t rescue herself, the monster got her.ReplyDelete
"A dragon makes a powerful weapon, but never a good pet."ReplyDelete
He means to kill me.ReplyDelete
Ember smelled a body.ReplyDelete
It was like a scene from an enchanted dream, only she didn’t know if her imagination could even conjure this surreal reality into a dream. It was too magical.ReplyDelete
"When the sea breeze waltzed in, the branches creaked like masts in a storm; leaves whispered mutiny in a loud chorus."ReplyDelete
"The music swept through our apartment like a spring breeze, entering our dreams, uplifting spirits, and inspiring ideas."
"Her latest foray into health food was like nothing I'd seen. Apparently, cottage cheese went to war with green onion, and the onion won."
I really was a mouse stuck in the lion's den and the lion had just announced that I was dinner.ReplyDelete
Juneau dropped her book and stumbled to the window, grasping the cracked wooden frame as if she had to keep herself from being pulled out of the room.ReplyDelete
“Humans…” she whispered through her choking gasps.ReplyDelete
‘It’s no use talking about dead people who never cared about you when alive.ReplyDelete
Morning dew coated my bare skin, and I had a lot of skin showing, covered in an old t-shirt and baggy underwear.ReplyDelete
The police don’t handle suicides. They handle murders. But isn’t that what the Ant Challenge really is? Some faceless person gets into your mind and forces you to do the dirty work for them. Their hand never touches you, but it’s still murder.ReplyDelete
Now, ever since food had been scarce, she looked like one of the balloons her mother had bought her for her sixth birthday – after the air had escaped a few days following the party. Flesh hung in loose folds over her bones, as if her body was deflating too.ReplyDelete
If she did fall for the bait, he nabbed this flapping fish, hook, line and sinker to reel in another treat by midnight.ReplyDelete
Something wasn't right with the sea.ReplyDelete
Images of her mother walking through the desert holding a baby bundle crept through her dreams.ReplyDelete
“Bastard,” I hissed, taking a bite of a sandwich cookie. The damn things were poison but damn they soothed the soul.ReplyDelete
There was no data entry for what she viewed. Two creatures, connected, essential to each other, even in the inescapable enclosure.ReplyDelete
Ceph stretched arm after arm after arm until all eight were awake and independently exploring his den.ReplyDelete
No mom, it’s just a burglar who happens to have my eyeball with him.ReplyDelete
The landlord chased down the stairs after Olivia, wooden bracelets clacking like wheels on a train, fingers snapping, and her eyes wild eith loathing.ReplyDelete
She was always boiling water. She put it in hot water bottles that she would hold against her stomach; for tea, five or six times a day; for the French press; to sanitize mason jars; and often, for reasons she forgot.ReplyDelete
Sex equaled superpowers. I mean, that's what my whole team made it sound like. Virgins are like Steve Rogers pre-serum. Then you have it and bam! Instant Captain America.ReplyDelete
Esther could not pinpoint why, but deep down, despite everything, she felt as though she had just crossed a magic threshold into something rich and wondrous.ReplyDelete
And it was at that moment that emergency burst through the door.ReplyDelete
The man drank like a fish and partied like a college frat boy ever since Mom died. I learned not to expect much from Dad years ago.ReplyDelete
Normally I’d listen at the door for a while before going in. Since she’d opened it, there was no point. Anything in the attic would already know we were there.ReplyDelete
Later, after the police have confiscated my phone, I’ll think back to all the messages Justin sent to me before he died and realize that, if you didn’t know us, they might read as something other than love.ReplyDelete
“Mel,” Tomas says pleasantly.ReplyDelete
“Tomas,” I smile and flippe him the bird. Better than punching him in the face.
So, he continued being fearless, ferocious, and fierce.ReplyDelete
Until one day…
A letter arrived addressed to “Fred the Fearless and Kind-hearted Pirate.”
I will be a viper upon his soul, eating away at his without him ever realizing that his loyal physician is the man he has so wronged.ReplyDelete
I imagine mixed-media mosaics hung on cathedral-worthy walls, sparkling like a Swarovski avalanche. Someday when patrons waltz through climate-controlled galleries sipping long-stem glasses of sauvignon blanc, what a life I'll have.ReplyDelete
Four years hadn’t been enough time for her to forget him. How long would it take for her to truly forgive him?ReplyDelete
With a loud thump and a string of obscenities, I was sitting on the floor in a pile of shit I’d collected over the years looking for something I didn’t want to find.ReplyDelete
Like a tumbleweed in a twister, my life spun out of control.ReplyDelete
Money may not buy happiness, but it can sure buy some freaking beautiful, howl-at-the-moon worthy pair of shoes.ReplyDelete
But as she came to understand how the wendigo was created not just in her mind, but in Graham’s and her parents’ and everyone else’s, she realized that lonely places was a metaphor as well: the only truly lonely place could be in one’s own mind.ReplyDelete
This is how I hope they remember me: Bathed in rainbow-bright lights, dotted in glitter, the tulle of my favorite dress swooshing around me as I bound through the pounding music on the dance floor. Cheeks flushed. Heart thudding. Alive. That’s the point of all this, after all.ReplyDelete
I drop my hoe and head past the dead cars, across the empty street, like some cosmic magnet is pulling me toward Alma, whose sadness, even from this far away, feels exactly like mine.ReplyDelete
Short brown hairs sat in a satanic circle around the drain, performing some arcane ritual to summon more filth into the soggy space.ReplyDelete
When you are about to die, your last thought should not be about Harry Potter.ReplyDelete
"If I lose, I'm dust. But if I win, I'm marble."ReplyDelete
That was partly why magic had been made illegal: it was ruled an unethical practice, in much the same way that tying bricks to people's feet and throwing them into the sea was an unethical practice.ReplyDelete
I wondered if Dad ever thought about trying to grab hold of that fence to see if it was electric. To see if it would stop his heart. I wondered if he ever thought about hanging himself from a makeshift bedsheet noose or saving his pills to take them all at the same time. I wondered if I’d miss him if he did.ReplyDelete
"You’re sushi, sparkles!” I crush the shell with my heel and grind.ReplyDelete
The crunch of the shell, the feel of the murderous crab grinding to dust through my shoe, is oddly soothing.
IDK what Google is doing. The above was actually mine - @kellylkc / kellylkc.com (wordpress). Whatever you want to call me. GL to everyone!ReplyDelete
Something comes right at me.ReplyDelete