QK Round 1: If the Shrew Fits vs. Irish in America

Title: Finding Kate
Entry Nickname: If The Shrew Fits
Word Count: 86,000
Genre: Adult Historical

Query:

For years, Kathryn's sharp words and belligerent deeds have been her defenses in her war against an unjust world. Oh yes, this shrew has her reasons. Not even the large dowry offered by her wealthy father can tempt any man to court her and risk a tongue-lashing or a scratched face... until the day Sir William arrives in town. From the moment he blocks her escape from tedious lessons, their every exchange is a battle of wits, every word loaded with double meaning. He won't even use her own name, calling her Kate from the very first. He insists that he is the only man, the only husband, for her.

In that summer of 1485, everyone knows that a fellow named Henry Tudor awaits his opportunity to overthrow King Richard III. After a generation and more of civil wars, people have learned to keep their political leanings to themselves, and those who wish to rise in the world have become adept at saying one thing and meaning something else. So how can Sir William, just returned from the court of King Richard III, be trusted?

Sir William's courtship feels like farce—like some comic Romeo, he stages a midnight visit to her window that sets every dog in town howling—but when they are apart, she listens for his knock at the door, his voice in the hall below. She marries him, if only to escape her family's mistreatment, but she remains convinced he is only after her father’s gold.

Her new situation is hardly better, however, as Sir William's behavior is increasingly maddening. On unfamiliar ground for the first time in her life, Kathryn is unsure what to believe: is he cruel? Is he “taming” her spirit, trying to make her an obedient wife? Or is there something else at play? Their war of wills rages; advances are made and lost. But unless she can let go of Kathryn and be Kate, she will remain a victim of her past, nursing her battle scars, unable to give or accept love.

  

First 250 Words

The first glimpse Kathryn ever saw of Sir William was his horse.

She had already pulled in her breath against the thick blanket of odor that always hovered near the manure piles behind of the Brewers’ inn. After years of trudging the same cobbled street from her home to the town square and back again, she did it without thinking. Her eyes were cast down, watching her shadow where it stretched out thin before her, tripping on the heels of her father and younger sister. The two of them walked arm in arm, their golden heads close together, whispering—about what, she could not tell, which suited her well enough. Five long paces holding her breath was all that was necessary, and then she would be past the inn and in the village square, and from there the church was only a few strides across the lush green…

A smear of dull color on the corner of her vision made her turn her head. Two men were leading an enormous blood red horse out of the gaping stable door and into the pounded dirt of the yard behind the inn. Kathryn halted and her breath rushed out of her in astonishment. The beast was the approximate size and color of St. George’s dragon, or so it seemed to her, and it moved with the same sinuous, menacing grace. When it snorted, she jumped, half expecting gouts of flame to burst forth.

VERSUS

Title: Donovan
Entry Nickname: Irish in America
Word Count: 100,000
Genre: Adult Historical Romance

Query:

​
When Jesse Travers' father and brother die, they leave her with two things: a crumbling ranch and a deep well of distrust.

Shunned by the village for her outlaw brother's deeds, Jesse is not sorry to hear he's been killed while robbing a bank. Strangely enough it is Adam Donovan, the man who shot her brother, who brings her the news. Even more strange is the Irish immigrant's willingness to help her bring her ranch back to prosperity.

The Arizona Territory would not be kind to a woman alone, and Jesse's experiences with her neighbors have left her jaded. But her love for her canyon home overcomes her trepidation, and she accepts Donovan's help. He is gentle and empathetic, a far cry from her brother, whose relentless abuse drove her to the brink of despair, or her father, who would never believe the things Jesse told him about her brother.

As they work together, Jesse begins to trust Donovan, and feels the first stirrings of love–an experience she's never known before. Then, as if to tell her she is unworthy of happiness, her past rises up with a vengeance, and she faces a terrible choice: retreat to a life of solitude and shame, or or trust a man she hardly knows with the secrets of her tragic past.

First 250:

Jesse Travers stood in the cabin door, trying to stem the tide of rising temper. The old man who sat wrapped in a blanket by the fire had been more querulous than usual. He can’t help it, she told herself, any more than he can help being old. Or crippled. But God help us if this day doesn’t end soon.

The clearing where the cabin stood was too quiet. No breeze stirred the aspen leaves. No birds trilled, no squirrels scampered. Even the brook ran silently today.

The only restful thing was the occasional glimpse of buckskin in the sycamores. The old man had told her that always animals knew where there was danger and would run away. So maybe it’s nothing–maybe it’s just too hot for April. Maybe that’s what makes me feel so sick.

Then into the utter silence came the faint clip-clop of a horse’s hooves.

No one should be coming. No one ever came. She tasted the sharp metal of fear. As the hoofbeats came closer, she took up an old Sharps rifle and moved out onto the sagging porch, into the shadows of its roof.

Round the edge of the cottonwood grove, the horse came into sight. Its rider had dark hair, dark clothes, a dark gun sitting low on his left hip. There isn’t anyone in the Territory who doesn’t know who he is. And where he comes from. Squaring her shoulders and raising the rifle, she took a single step into the light.

QK Round 1: The Ghost and Ms. Clair vs. The Origin of a Fixer

Title: Donn’s Hill

Entry Nickname: The Ghost and Ms. Clair

Word count: 83K

Genre: Paranormal Mystery

Query: 

Grief changes you. It can rewire your brain and make you see the world around you through different eyes. For Mackenzie Clair, it awakened her ability to talk to the dead.

Mac is on a mission to reclaim some happiness. After losing her father to cancer and her boyfriend to infidelity, she needs a fresh start. She abandons the city life and relocates to the place where she had been happiest in her youth: Donn’s Hill, a small town in Middle America that’s best known for the séances at its annual Afterlife Festival and an abundance of paranormal activity.

Mac doesn’t get much time to acclimate to small-town living before the ghosts come knocking, forcing her to quickly come to terms with her newly discovered psychic powers. With the help of the ghost-hunting crew of the nationally televised TV show Soul Searchers and a spirited tortoiseshell cat named Striker, Mac becomes bold enough to do things she never imagined possible: investigate hauntings, banish poltergeists, and generally feel happy again.

Unfortunately, in the midst of Mac’s journey of self-discovery, someone is killing off the residents of Donn’s Hill. She learns she’s a magnet for dead bodies, and in the weeks leading to the Afterlife Festival, corpses are piling up. Determined to use her abilities to do some good in the world, Mac must decide whether to leave town for her own safety or stay and try to identify the killer before she winds up joining the ranks of the ghosts wandering the town.

First 250:

Someone was sitting on my bed.

I didn’t know how he had gotten past the locks—I’d made sure the deadbolt was turned and the chain was fastened before I’d gone to bed—but that was a question for later. Right now the more important questions were “Who is he?” and “What does he want from me?”

It couldn’t be anything good. People who want to do good things usually knock.

He smelled foul, like rotting garbage. I felt his weight press down on the right side of the thin mattress. My body wanted to roll toward that lower point, but I held myself in place. I didn’t want to touch whoever it was. I held my breath and strained my ears to hear his breathing.

I heard nothing but the hum of a car passing on the highway.

Several thoughts pinged around inside my skull and crashed into each other. What’s going on? Is he holding his breath too? Are we locked in some kind of silent contest, the loser being the one who passes out?

Taking a chance, I opened one eye a tiny bit, creating a narrow slit between my eyelids. The motel room was pitch-black, thanks to the ancient heavy curtains and my having unplugged the digital alarm clock. Keeping my arm under the covers, I crept my left hand toward the nightstand.

Slowly, I told myself. Don’t make a sound.

Faster! my lungs screamed at me.

VERSUS

Title: Death of a Spider

Entry Nickname: Origin of a Fixer

Word count: 99K

Genre: Legal Thriller

Query: 

How can lawyer Jimmy Sullivan obtain a key found in a murder victim’s stomach from the police evidence locker? Jimmy has to come up with a solution that crosses yet another line. He’s been crossing them ever since he took on the Harry Miles’ estate. 

When Harry's young widow walks into his office, Jimmy wonders right away if she could be a problem for him. She is a alluring, seemingly vulnerable and needs his help to get what she wants. But when she hands him a sealed letter with coded instructions, the widow becomes the least of his concerns. The letter leads Jimmy to a safety-deposit box containing $100,000 in cash and a plea from Harry to take on not only his legitimate estate. but his off-the-books arrangements.  Jimmy owes Harry from way back, but should he be bound by that debt if he must risk disgrace and disbarment in carrying out Harry's wishes? Jimmy's hands tremble as he riffles his fingers through the stacks of hundreds as he makes up his mind to keep the money and take the case.

Soon Jimmy is drawn into and nearly consumed by the shadow life of a money launderer and serial blackmailer. Working for Harry brings him dead center into the cross hairs of a Chicago mob family, a Detroit gangster and a local Grand Rapids crime syndicate looking to use Jimmy or keep him quiet. With the help of some ethically flexible lawyer acquaintances and an ex-marine bodyguard, Jimmy races to find Harry's secret blackmail book and turn the tables on the gangsters hunting him—or risk ending up in a box like Harry.

First 250 words:

I found out about the death of Harry Miles by text.

My ex-wife and I were squared off across a table at a diner on the east side of Grand Rapids off the Beltline. It wasn’t one of those hidden gem greasy spoons, but it was convenient, and we had never frequented it during our time together. Neutral ground. I was, in my humble estimation, winning our regular weekly argument when I received the text. It threw me off my game.

“What is it?” she asked with a dose of actual concern when I didn’t respond to one of her barbs about my not being able to take care of some bills I had promised to take care of. She was right, of course, about money being a problem, but that wasn’t really what she wanted to argue about. She just couldn’t bring herself to argue about the other thing, and I didn’t want that, either. So, unpaid bills became the main point of contention.

I stared at the text. It was from a blocked number. I had only picked up the phone out of habit when it had beeped. That, and I knew that it would drive Michelle crazy. The message from the unknown texter simply said, Harry Miles died today. And then, as I watched it, trying to figure out what was going on, it buzzed again, and a new message popped up. Just thought you should know…

QK Round 1: The Bat is One of You vs. Hot Sauce is Bad for Wound Care

Title: THE LAST SPADE

Entry Nickname: The Bat Is One of You

Word Count: 60,500

Genre: NA Murder Mystery

Query:  

Mary Robert Rinehart’s play, The Bat, dazzles and spooks the audiences of 1920s New York. That is, until a real life murderer begins pinning dead bats to the bodies of his victims and the Bat steps off the stage and into the streets.

Flory is a twenty-two-year-old actress, fresh on the Broadway scene. She has the role of Dale Ogden in The Bat. Her mother is dead and the only friend she has in the world is Priscilla Hayes, her guardian: also an actress in The Bat. Noble is Flory’s nineteen-year-old half-brother. He’s African American, and Flory doesn’t know he exists. He longs to become a poet, and his heart is lifted by the beginnings of the Harlem Renaissance.

One night, as thunder cracks overhead, the cast of The Bat meets alone in the theater to discuss the murders and how they will affect the public’s perception of the play. Noble also chooses this night to tell Flory who he really is. As soon as everyone has arrived, Priscilla finds a letter addressed to all of them, written by the Bat. In rhyme, the Bat informs them that he is a member of the cast and he will kill them one by one that night—unless they discover his identity. 

The Bat’s letter is accompanied by a four of spades. As the cast tries to solve the mystery of which one of them is a killer, they find a three of spades, then a two. When they find the ace of spades, the card of death, it will be accompanied by a dead body. 

First 250:

A trolley rattled past in the street, and the boy who sold the papers yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Murder! Horrible Murder!” he shouted.

“Spoiling my day with horrible murders,” I said to myself. “What does the world mean by it?”

It was a gray day, what I like to call a jam day, because gray skies make me want strawberry jam. I strolled through the park with my coat wrapped tight around me. The coat was gray with a faux fur collar, but it was beastly thin. Now that I was a person who had achieved her dreams, who had money and things, you would think I could buy myself a nice coat.

“Buy yourself a nice coat, Flory,” I said. “You see? There. That’s an order.”

I enjoyed the sound of my heels clipping across the sidewalk. A man smoking a cigar looked up from his paper at me. Wrapping my fur tighter around my neck, I smiled the way I’d seen a movie star do it.

I strolled up to the newspaper stand and bought a copy of the paper.

“Horrible murder, you said?” I asked the boy.

“Yes, ma’am. Horrible. They say it’s an insane person who murdered the man—leaving a signature, no less.”

“A signature? On what?”

“Not a written signature, ma’am. You’ll see when you read it.” He proceeded to blast exclamations out of his lungs and deafen me. “Murder! Horrible, horrible murder!”

VERSUS

Title: The Gray Hole

Entry Nickname: Hot Sauce is Bad for Wound Care

Word count: 62K

Genre: YA Magic Realism

Query:

Six students at Mayville High will be dead by Saturday night. Again. And again, they will begin the week over just before Tuesday's first period class. Doomed to repeat the same week until seventeen-year-old Grayson Dell decides to stop killing them, the group must work through two problems: First, Grayson has no idea the groundhog week from hell is happening; Second, the victims are all jerks.

As Grayson struggles with the choices he’s made, his victims, seeing nothing left to lose, only increase their cruelty to outrageous levels, making the decision to kill easier and easier. It isn’t until Timothy Mayes, Grayson’s once-most-brutal tormentor, begins to see and treat Grayson as a fellow human being that signs of a possible end to the cycle start to appear. Now Mayes must steer clear of the other victims and show Gray that life is worth living, or be forced to endure the week before prom forever.

The narrator is a second-person voice in Grayson’s head, allowing the story to stay hopeful and sometimes humorous even during Grayson’s darkest moments.

First 250 words:

TUESDAY 7:59 A.M.

You tell yourself today will be different. Maybe it will. The lockers are the same sick, pale blue as yesterday, the linoleum floors still shine with same pungent cleaners that have been disintegrating nose hairs and SEAL-Team-Sixing brain cells for all four years you’ve spent in this school. And your classmates – if they’ve changed anything other than the color of their hair, it’d be tantamount to Chris Hemsworth intentionally eating a carb.

But still.

That pale blue used to be your favorite color before your attitude and your wardrobe took an about-face to the dark side. The chemical glint and nauseating smell from the floor is fading with each sneaker’s squeaking step. And those people – the juniors, sophomores, freshman, even your classmates, the seniors – they all could –

Your head snaps against a locker so hard it’s unclear whether the high pitched hum ringing in your ears is wholly a product of your mind or if the blue painted metal is actually screaming back at you. You try to pull away and see if you’ve changed the blue to red, but the hand that put you there doubles the pressure from its sweaty palms, digging the blunted and jagged ends of chewed away nails into the back of your head and left cheek.

You stop struggling before you start, so inured to bullying it’s become your norm. Embarrassment is the baseline of high school, and pain’s just a reminder you haven’t left yet.

Yet.

QK Round 1: Don't Eat Me! vs. Berserk Zombie

Title: Sanctuary
Entry Nickname: Don’t Eat Me!
Word count: 80,000
Genre: YA SF

Query:

Seventeen year old Kenzie Cord has never doubted her future as an elite guard on Sanctuary, an orbital prison for superpowered teens too dangerous for Earth. When the prisoners take her hostage, she’s confident her commanding officer -- who also happens to be her mother -- will stop at nothing to secure her freedom.

But Kenzie’s mother chooses regulations over her daughter, leaving Kenzie to engineer her own escape -- easier said than done when surrounded by mind readers, invisible vigilantes, and infuriatingly charismatic thieves who run at the speed of sound. Reluctantly, she begins to empathize with her captors’ desperation for freedom, wondering whether the real criminals aren’t the people imprisoning children in a soulless, AI-controlled wasteland.

But then monstrous alien creatures tear through Sanctuary, determined to harvest the entire station. With Kenzie’s survival tied to the prisoners’, she discovers there is more to her past than she ever dreamed, and more to the alien invasion than she initially suspected. Her worldview in tatters, she’s torn between the future she’s always imagined and the increasingly complex moral web she’s weaving -- a choice that might land her in prison herself.

Of course, that decision won’t matter if the space monsters eat her first.

250 Words:

At the shrill of the alarm, I shot straight up in bed, smashing my head against the overhang. My tiny, capsule sized room lurched, bursts of red illuminating the posters on the wall, the tangle of gray blankets around my knees. The dizziness faded -- the alarms didn’t.

I leaped to my feet, jamming my feet into my boots. The lights came up, revealing I had them on the wrong feet. Swearing, I swapped them and tugged at the laces.

“Kenzie!” Dad’s voice boomed outside the door.

“Coming!” I shouted. I took a second to scrape my curls out of my face and into a ponytail before I slid the door aside.

Dad waited, looking like he’d never even gone to sleep. He frowned at the reflective surface of the comm device embedded in his wrist. “I know!” I said, barreling past him.

The alarm was loud enough to wake the dead, ridiculous since only five guards lived on the entire station -- and of course, I made six. I ran down the deserted corridors with Dad on my heels. We shot through the living quarters into the larger area of the station, housing medical supplies, airlocks, a common room, and of course the command center.

The latter was where we found Mom, hands clasped behind her back, not a hair out of place. Guiltily, I smoothed my hand over my own unruly ponytail. “About time,” she said crisply. “Kenzie, pull up the video feed on the prison.”

VERSUS

Title: Lux and Lies

Entry Nickname: Berserk Zombie

Word count: 75k

Genre: Young Adult Science Fiction

Query: 

In 2072, a pharmaceutical company, VidaCorp, has discovered emotions cause disease and shorter life spans in humans. For those who can afford VidaCorp’s emotion suppressant pill, reality television provides second-hand emotions without the risk of actually feeling them.

Unable to afford the drug, Wren Qof-12678.3 watches the shows to forget about the lung cancer ticking down her days until a routine police scan turns into a life-changing proposition. The reality star Sloane Lux has overdosed just weeks before the premier of an upcoming reality show. To protect their interests in the show, VidaCorp offers Wren a deal to replace Sloane in exchange for the drugs to save her life at the season’s end.

Wren can’t resist the thought of a future full of hopeful tomorrows. She begins the agonizing physical alterations that turn her into the perfect replica of Sloane—at a cost. Wren enters a new world, marked by a dissociative disorder, with only her quick thinking to aid her. On the first night of filming, she learns a social anarchist group called the Whitebirds has infiltrated the cast and crew with the sole mission of destroying VidaCorp. 

To survive, Wren must uncover the anarchists while avoiding their increasingly dangerous acts and navigating the fame-hungry cast members. During filming, she discovers the Whitebirds’ leader is her closest ally on the show. But when Wren learns VidaCorp has been illegally dumping emotion suppressants into the water supply for years, she must decide whether to betray her new friend or join his fight against VidaCorp and the very drug she needs to save her life.

First 250:

Wren Qof-12678.3 concentrated as she drew the white perpendicular lines on the purpled skin of her bruised cheek. She held the marker steady in her hand, breath bucking against the cancer-pocked walls of her lungs, and focused solely on her reflection in the mirror. Her residence mark had to be perfect or the Links would stop her more often than they already did, and she couldn’t afford anymore docked quotas because of tardiness to work. 

Her father’s alarm blared through the paper-thin walls of their government-issued apartment. The marker skidded across her skin, ruining her tedious work. 

With her heart in the back of her throat, she stood frozen in front of the mirror. Her wide eyes caught on the yellowing bruises along her shoulder and neck mingling into the newer, fresher marks along her jaw. Marks she hadn’t drawn on.

The alarm cut off with a bang, and Wren easily—too easily—imagined his fist crashing against it. The bed creaked when he rolled over, adjusting into a more comfortable position. A moment later, his snores picked back up, like the sputtering start of a car before the Third World War Peace Act had put a sky-high quota on gasoline.

Breathing out a shallow, halting sigh of relief that sounded more like a wheeze, Wren turned back to her reflection.

QK Round 1: To Be a Man vs. Stolen By Time

Title: THE EVENTIDE
Entry Nickname: TO BE A MAN
Word Count: 97,000
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Query:

Val has studied, fought and completed her sailing expedition—faster than anyone else—to become chieftess of her tribe. Returning home, she discovers her twin brother is missing—kidnapped by the foreign conquerors—and if she doesn't find him soon, her tribe will go to war and be massacred by their enemies.

Against her tribe’s wishes, Val finds her way into an Airyllen ship dressed as a boy. Surrounded by the people she believes are her enemies, her sole focus is locating her brother. But on the ship, Val discovers that not all Airyllens are pale-faced demons. As she earns Captain Devon's trust, Val is torn between her loyalty to the tribe and her newfound love for the captain—whose affections lie with someone else.

Hiding her true identity from him may cost their friendship and break her heart. But if he learns who she is, he has an obligation to report to the king and Val risks losing her brother, the war and her life in this loose retelling of Shakespeare’s TWELFTH NIGHT.

First 250 Words:

No one witnessed the tears staining my ocean-weathered face. Like my ancestors before me, I made this trip alone. If the elder who made that rule still lived, I’d personally see him to the spirit realm.

The purple mountains jutted into the sky, glistening as magic cascaded off them like an early morning fog encompassing the land. I leapt out of my seat. For most the Pass represented the boundary between the southern tribes and the pale-faced invaders. For me it meant home.

My rash movements caused the port side of my sailing canoe to dip under the water.

“Spirits!” If I capsized this close to the end, I’d die of humiliation.

Tonight, after eighty-two long days, the elders would name me chieftess. Chieftess Valerian. I could live with that.

You’re only chieftess if you beat Shecayah home. A voice in my head reminded me.

“Sure.” I rolled my eyes. The elders say the spirits whispering in your ear is a sign. I say my exhausted body is trying to trick me.

Letting my sail out, I tied the mainsheet and moved to the bow of my sailing canoe, the wind pulling strands of my black hair out of its braid and into my eyes.

I sat cross-legged on the bow and opened my pouch. Dust the color of the stars lay at the bottom. When I’d started my trek, Elder Fire gave me a full bag. I dumped the remnants in my hand. The silver stood out against my dark skin and I blew the powder away.

VERSUS

Title: ECHOES ACROSS TIME

Entry Nickname: Stolen by Time

Word count: 82,000

Genre: YA Time Travel Romance

  

Query:

A seventeen-year-old Australian girl is haunted by the echo of a love more powerful than time, calling to her across the centuries.

Taylor’s life is on a fast track. Graduation is in four weeks, she’s dating the hot lead singer of a local band, and Sydney’s summer beaches beckon. Until Mum drags her across fifteen hundred kilometers of Australian Outback, to the middle-of-nowhere. And the haunting dreams of Anna begin.

In 1876, seventeen-year-old Anna rises before the sun, milks the cow, fetches water from the almost-dry creek, and stokes the oven. If her parents had remained in Europe, instead of moving to the wilderness of South Australia, her life would be different—civilized, perhaps, as Mother loves to say. In Europe, she would have avoided the raging bushfire that leaves her reputation as blackened as the burnt-out scrub. But then she’d not have met handsome fellow settler, Luke Hartmann.

In her dreams, Taylor lives every moment with Anna. But, as Taylor’s parents threaten divorce and her life spirals out of control, she ventures deeper into Anna’s world. The borders between reality and dreams become increasingly blurred, and Taylor falls for the perfect dream guy; Luke. When tragedy tears Anna’s family apart, Taylor must discover whether her dreams are pure fantasy—or if they recount a story more familiar than she could ever imagine. If she can’t find a way to combine the past and the present, she risks losing her mind and her heart forever.

FIRST 250 WORDS:

In Sydney, if you choose the place carefully and wear a top cut low enough, the bouncers don’t check your ID. Just as well, as both Cassie’s and mine would reveal we’re a few months short of legal.

Sweaty palmed, I tug at the hem of my short skirt. The queue shuffles toward the neon-enhanced entry. If we’re turned away before we get through the door, we haven’t broken any laws, we won’t get arrested; yet my heart pounds with the adrenalin rush. 

Fear feeds the high.

Cassie couldn’t care less. She leans forward, brushing imaginary dirt from her knee, loose shirt billowing from her chest. 

Standing at the door for hours, you’d think the bouncers would be sick of perving. Apparently not.

Fisting her hands on narrow hips, Cassie straightens, shooting a mega-watt smile at the ogling security guard.

Despite high wedges, I stretch to mutter in her ear. “Jeez Cass. It’s supposed to be Victoria’s Secret, right?

She laughs as though it was a killer line, flinging an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Tay. You want to get in, right?”

Hell yeah, I want to get in.

Cassie nods at the crucifix I slide up and down a fine chain around my neck. “Y’know you look like a god-botherer when you fiddle with that thing, right?”

I drop my hand. “Present from my grandparents.”

One perfect eyebrow arches at me. “Thought you didn’t have anything to do with them?”

QK Round 1: A Seer in King Arthur's Court vs. Cryptopolis

Title: The Pendragon's Son

Entry Nickname: A Seer in King Arthur's Court

Word count: 98K

Genre: YA Fantasy

Query:

Seventeen-year-old Prince Vael struggles to stop his misguided half-brother from killing their father and igniting a countrywide war.

A grim prophecy predicts Vael’s father, King Arthur and half-brother, Mordred die at the other’s sword in a battle that will destroy the once-peaceful Camelot. None dare oppose fate—save for Vael, a sorcerer who is determined to shield his family and his kingdom. But he has never left the protection of his mentor, Merlin, and attempting to alter fate is a fool’s errand.

Though the brothers were once close, Mordred’s mind has been warped by his mother—a vengeful sorceress who despises Arthur. Consumed by her lies, Mordred breaks ties with Vael and helps steal the legendary Excalibur, leaving the kingdom without its holy protection. As Vael struggles to recover the sword and save his half-brother, the prophecy nears its fulfillment. If Vael cannot unite his broken family, he will have to assemble an army to defend all he loves and fight a man he has grown to trust—his own brother.

First 250 words:

As I hurried down the castle’s vast stone corridor to meet my half-brother for the first time, his name echoed around me, whispered like a curse: Mordred.

Though likely no one else in Camelot shared my outlook, that haunted name sparked a surge of hope in me. Finally. Finally. I had a brother. Family. Surely he would not shun me as the others had. Surely he would understand what it meant to be an outcast in one’s own family. I had to see him.

I approached the vaulted doorway of the Great Hall. Straightening, I walked toward the raised dais, careful to keep my pace steady, though my legs urged me forward. A prince must always be calm and collected. My muscles strained, but I reined in my eagerness. The dais seemed so far away.

Knights and soldiers filled the hall as I passed. Most paid me no heed, too absorbed in gossiping about my brother.

“How is that bastard still alive?” one said, wringing his hands.

“Vermin never did die easy,” an armoured knight said with a sneer.

I bit my tongue, not for the first time this day. The hall had witnessed many such words since the news of Mordred’s arrival, and all over an unfounded—and unreliable—prophecy made decades ago. My steps clipped the stones, leaving the speakers behind. My brother was still a prince—the son of Queen Morgan LeFay of the Orkneys. How did they dare to speak thusly?

VERSUS

Title: Catacomb Saints

Entry Nickname: Cryptopolis 

Word count: 77,000

Genre: YA Fantasy

Query

For sixteen-year-old Davi, the darkness has never mattered. A petty pickpocket by night and a worthless burden on society by day, she has only ever wanted to be left alone to live what little life her society affords people like her. Trouble is, this time out, Davi's stolen something that isn’t supposed to exist—from a man who isn’t even supposed to be alive. The Bone Key might be a treasure worth a thousand kingdoms, but as far as Davi is concerned, the only thing the eerie metal relic is worth is saving her own life. 

Thrust into the heart of a centuries old civil war between two great kingdoms, Davi must navigate the unfamiliar world of hired assassins, deadly artifacts, political intrigue and nebulous legend if she has even a prayer of not only returning the thing, but making it out alive. But the longer she has the Key, the more she learns about it—and herself, the more she understands that getting rid the relic is the very last thing she could ever do. If she is to survive, Davi must not only uncover the truth behind the Bone Key’s past, but her own. Who said being a teenager was ever easy. 

A starving pickpocket, a shadowy civil war, and a wholly unexpected mission from the past.

First 250:

It wasn’t much—home. If you could even call it that, but it had three walls, a rough concrete ledge for sleeping, and it was all I had. And for someone who could count on the tip of her newly missing little finger the number of possessions she could lawfully lay claim to—that actually meant something. Around here, people had lost more trying to hold on to far less.

“Davi?”

I had neither the time nor the patience for the kid right now. I ignored her and shuffled backwards, my raw fingertip just brushing the soft leather of my newly acquired prize.

I weighed the purse in my hand. I sure as hell hoped what was inside was worth it. Of course, like most things I managed to steal off the spoiled brats up in the Summer Market, it probably wasn’t. Bedsides, losing the Red’s—unlike the tip of my pinky had taken far longer than expected. Now all I wanted was to sleep. Well, to eat and sleep, and yet I knew only one of those was likely to happen tonight.

Like a roach to crumb, the enquiry came again and I exhaled, tossing the pouch to my side and rubbing my still bleeding stump of a finger.

“What is it, Serri?” I demanded.

Below the fractured lip of my concrete ledge the familiar tangle of dirty blonde hair fidgeted. Like a pixie-sized plague, no matter what I said or did, Serri always came back.

“Davi?” Serri said, her voice as narrow as a shaft of distant sunlight.

QK Round 1: The Memory Baker vs. Mustache Head

Title: Nora, Queen of Cakes

Entry Nickname: The Memory Baker

Word Count: 47K

Genre: Middle Grade Contemporary

Query:

Sixth grader Nora Stanvic isn't good at anything. So it comes as no surprise to her when she learns she’s likely headed for remedial math. But when Nora finds her ailing grandmother’s handwritten cookbook, not only does she discover she might have a real talent for baking, but she also learns that by re-creating her grandmother’s recipes, she might have the power to help Grandma reclaim some of the memories Alzheimer’s is trying to steal away.

My middle grade contemporary novel, NORA, QUEEN OF CAKES (47,000 words), explores one girl’s journey to gain confidence in herself. Nora is nothing like her straight-A sister Sarah or her sports star brother Ian. As she struggles with poor grades and low self-esteem, Nora gets another blow: her grandmother is moving in with them, which means Nora has to share a bedroom with Ian. Her grandmother suffers from Alzheimer’s Disease. As Nora helps her unpack, she discovers a cookbook her grandmother began writing when she was Nora's age. On a challenge from her new math tutor, Oksana, Nora tries her hand at replicating the first recipe. It totally bombs. But after some much-needed encouragement from those around her, Nora keeps at it. As her baking skills begin to improve, not only does Nora discover that she might be really good at something after all, but she also learns that the recipes she’s re-creating could have the power to help her grandmother remember her past, at least for a little while.

First 250:

This has to be the worst day of my life. Worse than the day Nick Martin bumped into my chair and spilled his entire lunch tray on my head. Worse than failing my geometry quiz and having my parents give me funny looks about it for weeks. Worse than finding out I wasn’t invited to Missy Albrecht’s birthday party last year--the party of the year in 5^th grade. (My invitation and my best friend Jemma’s invitation “must have been lost in the mail,” Missy said. Of course they were.)

Those incidents were pretty horrible, but nothing compared to what I heard when I came home from school today: Grandma’s moving in with us. But I love Grandma, so that’s not the bad part, that’s not the ‘worst day of my life’ part.

What makes today so awful is finding out that when Grandma moves in, I’ll have to share a room with my brother Ian. Oh, and there’s going to be bunk beds.

“But bunk beds are for little kids,” I said. “We’re practically adult-sized.”

“They’ll give you more room,” Mom said. “Besides, your father’s already ordered them. It’s a done deal.”

“I call top bunk!” Ian shouted, because he always has to be first at everything.

I didn’t care if I got the top bunk or not. I didn’t care about bunk beds at all.

VERSUS

Title: Split Down the Middle

Entry Nickname: Mustache Head

Word Count: 54,000

Genre: MG Realistic Fiction 

Query:

Before being faced with her D-Day debacle, Becca’s life wasn’t exactly perfect, but it was at least familiar.  Predictable.  Mostly manageable. Wake up at her mom’s house, relay the message from Dad, take the bus to middle school, go to Dad’s house, relay the message from Mom.  Pray that the messages don’t blow up in her face and trigger an all-out Nuclear Disaster.  

Rinse, repeat.

But when Becca’s mother announces she’s moving from Philadelphia to North Carolina, Becca must go to court and choose which parent she wants to live with - permanently, and who she must leave behind.  Complicating her Decision Day dilemma is the minefield of truth bombs the universe drops on the battlefield of Becca’s life.  Some, like the news that her soulmate (aka secret crush) Jake actually like likes her, are thrilling.  Others, such as her dad’s unexpected pregnancy with his newish girlfriend, are just plain confusing.  All of them convince Becca that her difficult decision may be an impossible one.

Becca’s life is about to get carved to pieces, and her parents are forcing her to wield the knife. Is a courtroom miracle her only hope, or can she find another way to put herself back together again?

First 250:

You know those memories you try to bury in the underwear drawers of your brain, but that sneak up on you when you least expect it, when you’re brushing your teeth or looking for a lost library book?

 

I have a lot of those.


Like when Tim Vasquez sat next to me on the aquarium trip, stared at my face in a super creepy way, and then loudly proclaimed to the entire bus, “Becca, you totally have a mustache!  You’re like…a Mustache Head!” 

(For the record, my aunt Teresa says pretty much every woman secretly has a mustache but just pretends they don't.  She makes good money as a waxer in the suburbs, so she’s kind of an authority.  After Tim’s charming comment she does mine for free.)

Another of these panic-inducing flashbacks is from the first day of third grade.  After a school north of us shut down due a combination of termites and teachers cheating on state tests, the city shipped all those kids to mine, which I (stupidly) assumed would be No Big Deal.  

Oh how wrong I was.

I walked into my classroom that first day and made myself as flat against the wall as my mom had just tried (and failed) to make my curly red hair, staring into a sea of freshly-scrubbed September faces. I leaned there along the piles of backpacks and shiny new school supplies, watching first in confusion and then horror as each of my new classmates connected like magnets, hugging and high-fiving.