Dec 26, 2009
When Jordan is visiting a friend in South Korea he is attacked by a mysterious woman, put to sleep and imprisoned in the Other World.
After he begins to hear voices telling him to save a little Russian girl, he finds hope that he can wake. But matters are complicated when he is kidnapped by Nnekara, a deadly African woman with the power to animate and control shadows. Nnekara has also been put to sleep by the woman, but with the intent of keeping Jordan occupied and out of the way while the dream world is being merged with reality.
Jordan finds that as things change, and the merger nears completion, the woman gets closer to releasing a group of long-forgotten gods, the Dreamwalkers, to usher in the extinction of the human race.
Jordan must gain mastery over his power as the gateway between the worlds and race to save the young Russian girl from dying if he has any hope of thwarting the woman's plans or waking again.
With a basis in real world mythologies, THE GATEWAY – a young adult fantasy complete at 73,000 words – explores a new world by recreating and redefining what we all experience as dreams.
I have a degree in Russian studies and have lived in both Russia and South Korea. Together, my education, travels and understanding of other cultures play a huge part in the unfolding tale, as the world we know ceases to exist and we find people across the globe – each with their own unique abilities – coming together and choosing sides.
THE GATEWAY is a standalone novel, but the first in a planned series. If you are interested, I would love to send the full manuscript. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Dec 23, 2009
Dear Ms. Agent,
My 105,000 word mystery/thriller, FALLEN KNIGHT, fits the mold of material you’re in search of and I’m excited at the possibility of you representing me.
In 1984, the largest bioterrorism attack documented in US history took place in the Pacific Northwest. More than 750 residents were sickened in this barely publicized incident, fortunately there were no fatalities. But somebody did take notice and now believes they can do better. When Lee Hamilton answers an early morning call asking for help tracking down the person responsible for a vicious attack of a close friend, little does he realize that he’ll come face to face with the individual determined to make that event happen.
Lee is a middle-aged human resource manager from a small southern town. He’s also one of six college friends who in their hey-day were labeled ‘The Knights Who Say Ni’. Lee’s troubles begin when he rallies the other knights to assist Dianne Williams, the manager of the detective agency where their stricken friend works, to search for the assailant. The trail leads them to a six-month old deadly high school shooting sixty miles outside the nation’s capital. There they discover the authorities have been suppressing facts about the young shooter, like a note found on his body hinting of plans to cause further misery. Although the knight’s methods are unconventional, when a cryptic series of numbers link several other crimes to the boy, it pulls the covers back on an unbelievable plot.
In over their heads with the boundaries of the knight’s friendship tested, they must scramble to avoid arrest by a suspicious police detective and the FBI. Racing to unravel the scheme before it’s too late; ironically they come to personify the grand chivalrous behavior their nick-name once proudly stood for. At stake if they fail, the unleashing of a lethal biological agent on the streets of Washington DC.
Thank you, Ms. Agent, for your consideration of this query. At your request, I will be happy to send along the complete manuscript.
Dec 21, 2009
My research led me to your agencies web-site and your particular interest in mystery/thrillers. I believe my 105,000 word novel, FALLEN KNIGHT, fits the mold of material you’re in search of and hope you consider representing me. If successful, I envision the characters from my novel evolving into a series.
In 1984, the largest bioterrorism attack documented in US history took place in Dalles, Oregon. More than 750 individuals were sickened, but luckily there were no fatalities.
Now, somebody thinks they can do better. When Lee Hamilton answers an early morning call asking for help tracking down the person responsible for a viscous attack of a close friend, little does he realize that it will put him on a collision course with the person determined to make just that event happen.
Lee is just a middle-aged human resource manager from a small southern town, but he’s also a knight. One of six college friends who in their hey-day were labeled ‘The Knights Who Say Ni’, Lee’s troubles begin when he rallies the other knights to assist Dianne Williams, the manager of the detective agency where their stricken friend works, to search for the assailant. The trail of clues leads them to a six-month old deadly high school shooting sixty miles outside the nation’s capital and a cryptic suicide note that brags I’m not finished yet. Although the knight’s method of solving jigsaw puzzles are unconventional, when the pieces do start coming together it pulls the covers back on an unbelievable pattern of crimes.
In over their heads with the boundaries of the knight’s friendship tested, they must scramble to avoid arrest by a suspicious police detective and the FBI. The rag-tag group seeks to unravel a sinister plot as they race the clock. At stake if they fail, the unleashing of a bio-terrorism attack on the streets of Washington DC.
From an agoraphobic taxi-driver, to a love-sick high school student forced to hide a terrible secret, even the secondary characters in FALLEN KNIGHT are memorable. Thank you, Ms. Agent, for your consideration of this query. At your request, I will be happy to send along the complete manuscript.
Detective Inspector Lane has less than a week to prove three recent deaths were not the work of a serial killer. All three died in a similar way after falling from buildings and all three died on a Sunday.
Coincidence? Or is there a vicious killer on the loose in London with a liking for high places and an aversion to Sundays?
David, a journalist for the London Evening People, thinks the story makes good copy and he has piqued public interest with a series of articles designed to convince his readers there is more to the deaths than just coincidence.
All the press interest is proving much more difficult for DI Lane to deal with than the investigation itself. The Chief Inspector has given her until Sunday to prove the deaths were nothing more than accidents and quell the rising public hysteria. But when a witness also dies in mysterious circumstances, it seems there is very little DI Lane can do to convince the public a serial killer is not stalking the streets of London.
And now, she too is having her doubts.
Intelligent Design is a completed 95,000 word crime novel set in contemporary London.
Dec 19, 2009
Click here to read the first revision.
Click here to read the sample pages.
Okay - after much thought and re-writes, I hope I came up with something that doesn't sound like TWILIGHT.
Dear [Agent Name]
Like all vampires, John Pennington can slip into the minds of mortals and control their thoughts and actions. Touch their skin and he can read their thoughts or bring the ones he wants to the surface, and his saliva can heal the marks his teeth leave behind after he feeds on them. But unlike most vampires, when John sees a mortal in trouble, he will step in and help any way he can as long as it doesn’t reveal his true identity.
So he doesn’t do anything different on the night he finds an unconscious woman being tossed into a trunk by a serial killer. It’s not until he places the still unconscious woman in her car that he discovers a scent so enticing it draws him closer to her and when he touches her skin, he feels a rush of warmth he never thought possible. He’s intrigued, but vampires don’t involve themselves with humans and he leaves her, without any knowledge of him or his deed.
Sarah Daugherty has survived an abusive ex-husband and is on her own for the first time. When she wakes in her car with vague memories of being abducted, she’s terrified, and the following night takes up an offer to go out after work. Only looking for company, what she finds instead is a sexy bartender named John. So what if he’s allergic to the sun. So what if he’s on a special liquid diet. His touch causes her heart to race and sets her body on fire. She convinces him to give dating a chance.
John finds himself falling in love with Sarah and it’s with all his inner strength to keep their relationship platonic, for he made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t make love to her until she knew the truth. But the fear of losing her forever becomes too much of a risk for him to take and he keeps putting off what he knows in his heart he must do.
THE UNCOMMON ONE is a paranormal romance of 109,000 words. The complete manuscript is available upon request. Thank you for your time and consideration.
Dec 16, 2009
A horde of killer bees in Borneo. An armed robbery in Los Angeles. A deadly riptide off the Pacific. Malaria in East Africa. A vision of a lady in white guiding him to safety each time. For travel photographer Lee Merrick, the extraordinary is the ordinary.
As the mysterious lady’s ethereal hands guide Lee’s at the piano to play a Chopin prelude he never knew, he wonders about the prophecy from his youth that foretells he will someday meet “Her” along the beach. But his mother, who has kept the secret of her own dark prophecy, is compelled to sabotage his pursuit at all costs—even if it means having Lee institutionalized against his will.
Time is running out for Lee. The polished lens of his photojournalist’s camera fails him, and he must learn to see with his inner sight. Mounting clues beckon him toward this woman who pleads for his belief in her and their love. But will he uncover the truth before his obsession robs him of his family, friends, and freedom?
ALONG THE BEACH is a 108,000-word New Age novel.
My metaphysical piece Atlantis, Arise appeared in the national magazine [magazine title listed here]. The pyramids, temples, and mysterious places highlighted in Along The Beach are written with authenticity based on nearly two decades of sojourns exploring those locations across the world with metaphysical societies.
Thank you for considering Along The Beach.
Dec 15, 2009
I remember the exact day the spot light turned on me and everyone noticed the quiet girl who barely ever spoke. And by spotlight, I don't mean me slipping on a pair of tap shoes and performing an excerpt from a Broadway musical. More like I was standing naked with my classmates running at me, a magnifying glass pressed to their eye. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but seriously it was bad.
Sister Clarisse calls it adolescence or puberty, but I call it exposure and the time when every girl's self-esteem is mutilated, dismembered. For me, my moment of exposure happened at the
beginning of eighth grade.
"What do you think we'll have to do?" Alison whispered to me that morning before school.
I opened my bag and started pulling out books, throwing them on top of the desk. "I don't know. Sister Clarisse didn't give us any details."
My nervous tone reflected the buzz of voices drifting through the classroom. Everyone was feeling it. Today was different. Of course when you're my age, you can't let anyone but your very best friends know the idea of watching The Movie was freakin' scary. Yes, that's right, Ellie Cummings was petrified of this official rite of passage into the teenage world, but never in a million years would I have guessed how much was about to change from The Movie. If I had
known I probably would have faked an illness this morning and never left my house.
I hung my bag on the back of my chair and tugged at my green and navy pleated skirt. It was identical to the one Alison wore, but on her the required uniform was a fashion statement. Alison was already five foot five and growing constantly and not in the gangly awkward way, but in the
I'm-thirteen-but-the-ninth-grade-boys-all-snap-their-heads-in-my-direction way. Mostly because this summer she started growing things I didn't have yet. Well not a b-cup anyway.
Don't think I spend all my time obsessing over the bra size of my classmates, but it was the first week of school and everyone changed over the summer. Alison changed the most of all the
girls and of course it didn't go unnoticed. Me, well let's just say I have the flattest chest in my entire class. This is not opinion based. It's a fact. Even Freddie Livingston has bigger boobs than me. Seriously, he does. I cringe every time Freddie is on the "skins" team when the boys play basketball in the gym.
In just a few days of school I was beginning to realize everything is more complicated in eighth grade. For starters, we moved to the high school wing with the ninth graders and switched classrooms every hour, bumping into them in the hallway. My school messes with the entire genetics of high school by making ninth graders the dominating force and then moving them on to a new school as sophomores.
It's just wrong.
Of course I won't be complaining next year when I'm one of those ninth graders.
But if you're unlucky like me, and scored high on your standardized testing you might even end up in a few classes with them. Talk about feeling like a puny little girl.
My other best friend Hailey leaned in close to Alison and I before whispering, "My sister told me they make everyone put condoms on oranges."
Hailey's sister is in tenth grade this year and entertains herself by giving Hailey a load of crap to see if she'll believe it.
I rolled my eyes. "You don't put condoms on oranges, bananas maybe?"
Alison giggled beside me then put her hand over her mouth when Sister Janet glared in our direction. Hailey's forehead wrinkled and I could tell she was going to give herself a head ache thinking this hard.
I put my hand on her shoulder to calm her down before whispering as quietly as possible, "Hailey we're not going to put condoms on anything . This isn't public school. Catholics stress
abstinence, not birth control."
Her face relaxed.
Alison shook her head, eyes glued to the folder in her hands. "Ellie's right."
TJ the cutest boy in our grade strolled past us and we all three immediately jumped apart from our huddled girl talk.
TJ's eyes fell on Alison. His cheeks blushed a little, then he hurried over to his desk.
"Did you see that," Hailey squealed.
I clapped my hand over her mouth to shut her up. Alison threw me a grateful look. Last year we made a pact to never be those girls. The squealing ones who pretend their idiots and refuse to eat in front of boys. Hailey can't help herself. She's naturally ditzy and forgetful. It has nothing to do with male presence, so we still love her.
"My house after school," Alison reminded us of our Friday tradition which was nothing more than hanging out, pigging out, making fun of the popular girls (the Pact to stay 'squeal free' evolved from one of these sessions), and occasionally inventing stories about what the nuns really do after school (my personal favorite).
"Sarah and Claire are coming. I called them last night," Hailey said, referring to our other two best friends. They were in a different class this year.
"Alright everyone get your Math books out and start with the problems on page ten," Sister Janet said. She narrowed her eyes at me, inclining one hand toward the door. Freddie and Dara zipped past, books tucked under their arms.
I swallowed hard and threw Alison and Hailey a desperate look. Alison bit her lower lip and Hailey chewed on her thumb nail. They were the most supportive friends a girl could have, but they didn't have to leave. I did.
Day five of Algebra with the ninth graders had officially begun.
I grabbed my book and hurried after Freddie and Dara. My stomach did flip-flops while I made the long walk down the hall. But the barfy feeling was completely unrelated to the impending movie and everything to with the older kids. Being forced into their world, even if only for academic reasons would frightened the coolest of eighth graders (which I wasn't). They didn't want me there anymore than I wanted to be there. It was such a fun hour. Let me tell you.
Sister Janet says there's always something to be grateful for- someone who was worse off. Whenever I sit in class behind the most popular ninth grade girl April Jenson, it's difficult to be grateful for anything God has blessed me with. But then I look over at Jenny Ludwig and give thanks that my mother doesn't make me wear the little girl jumpers instead of the skirts. Seriously, she's fourteen with a plaid jumper, white button down Peter Pan collar shirt, knee socks and black Mary Jane's.
I. Kid. You. Not.
After glancing at Jenny the first day of school, I forced myself to look down at my socially acceptable skirt, navy school polo and Nike's then I said: Yes, there is a God! I may not be April Jenson, but Sister Janet is right. It could be worse.
I took in a deep breath before entering the classroom, letting my eyes drop to stare at my shoes like I was examining them for dog crap stuck to the bottom. It's an unspoken rule not to make eye contact with the ninth graders while on their turf (which I was). I slid into my seat and noticed Mrs. Halloway wasn't in the in the room yet. Frightening. I was writing the date on the top of my notebook page when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
My heart started pounding in my chest. It must be a trick. I wasn't turning around just to have someone shove my finger up my nose and ask me if I'm digging for gold (this happened to Freddie yesterday, I felt terrible for him).
"Ellie, are you ignoring me?" a voice whispered in my ear.
A familiar voice. But it couldn't be. I turned quickly in my seat and stared right into Justin's green eyes.
"What are you doing here?" I couldn't help asking.
He smiled. "It's not an all girl's school."
I rolled my eyes. "You wish. But I thought you were going to George Washington?"
"My parents had me on the waiting list all summer. A spot opened up at the last minute. I've been here for a week waiting for you to talk to me." He frowned and reached his hand toward my shirt and pulled off a cat hair. "Albert Einstein's been rolling in your laundry basket again, hasn't he?"
I laughed and pushed his hand away. "I wasn't ignoring you. I didn't know you were here. Plus I'm an eighth grader. I'll probably get hung or lynched just for this little chat."
I turned around then because Mrs. Halloway walked in to the room and I realized immediately several pairs of eyes were on me.
Spotlight number one. I wished more than anything this was the only one. It wasn't.
My cheeks burned and I slid down in my seat hoping Mrs. Halloway would jump right in to complex equations. She did jump into the lesson but not the long boring lecture I hoped for. No, that would be lucky (which I wasn't). And that would be reserved for traditional teachers
(which Mrs. Halloway wasn't).
Today we were doing a hands-on project- calculating angles of large objects outside using Algebraic and geometric formulas. So when she started to partner us up I glanced hopefully at Dara, even Freddie would do. Eighth graders needed to stick together, but instead I get-
"April Jenson," Mrs. Halloway said.
April stood and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder.
Mrs. Halloway looked down at her clip board. "April your partner will be, Eleanor Cummings."
My face turned even redder and I ducked down pretending to pick up something from the floor.
"Eleanor Cummings," Mrs. Halloway spoke with such authority I jerked up quickly banging my head on the desk, hard.
I stood feeling the burn of everyone's eyes.
Spotlight number two.
Mrs. Halloway was new and didn't know name's yet. She was just reading off the roster and the damage she caused was completely unintentional.
I heard Justin laugh a little under his breath and mutter, "Eleanor."
I had been Ellie Cummings since preschool. Like every other day, I walked in as Ellie. But today, I left as Eleanor and today of all days Eleanor was the absolute worst name to have.
Ellie was given the same warning as all the eighth grade girls at St. Vincent's: Your reputation is a valuable possession and you must protect it. Sister Clarisse's message swam straight over shy Ellie's head. Until the movie following the nun's speech. The moment the words flashed across the screen, she knew she was in trouble: The Eleanor Story: A Story Of A Girl Who's Reputation Got In The Way Of Her Relationship With God.
The girl was easy and boy crazy and she'd rather be kissing than praying. And they had the same name! All Ellie can do is hope everyone will forget The Movie soon. They might have too if Justin Sampson, Ellie's best summer pal, hadn't transferred to her school. Even Ellie can't dismiss the fact that Justin is really cute. On her fourteenth birthday, she kisses him with twenty-six pairs of eyes watching.
She has officially gone from Ellie to *the Eleanor*. Worse, a mysterious blogger named HailMary22 has created a blog in her honor: Guess Eleanor Cummings Next Man.
Rumors and lies fill the online world. Her first real kiss has turned into the world's biggest mistake and Ellie can't escape. Now she has to the make a decision: hide from HailMary22 or stand up for herself for the first time in her life.
THE ELEANOR STORY is a 53,000 word young adult novel.
Dec 12, 2009
I am seeking representation for my 48,000 word YA fantasy novella RAISING KAIN: DISEASED GOD.
The day he turns six-years-old Apophis Kain learns he is destined to become the Aspect of the Earth, he just has to survive the training to get there first.
Being the sun of a sky god and the Aspect of the Moon, as well as the crown prince of Atlantis and transforming into a dragon means that Kain must be destined for greatness. He just didn’t realize greatness meant living naked in the woods, having his aunt, Terra Gaia the current Aspect of the Earth, as the worlds hardest tutor, or meeting the deranged diseased god, Pestilence.
Training to be the Aspect of the earth and fighting to overcome his headstrong pride is hard enough, but when Pestilence shows up it becomes a fight for his life. One he may not be able to win. Failure means life as a new version of the diseased god, and destruction of the material plane.
I am a student of history and literature at Concord University, I have published one short story with Concord University’s publication, Reflexes.
I would be happy to forward the complete manuscript at your request, and I thank you for your time and consideration.
Dec 10, 2009
Should I try to merge the best of both into one?
I'm suspecting that rather than do a big rewrite of version 1 (some don't like its opening paragraph at all) I should prop-up version 2.
So that might involve taking version 2 as a base to work with, and infusing it with a bit of Version 1's fourth paragraph to fill in a bit more? Or run version 2 as-is?
nb: The query has a bio section, but it's omitted in this sample, so we can focus on the aspects in question. The issue of genre classification deserves a whole other thread (labeling it New Age vs. Paranormal vs. Fantasy Romance vs. psychic vs. mainstream or not even at all).
Thanks from Gary in Las Vegas
QUERY VERSION 1
Dear Mr./Ms. (Agent),
Soulmates. Faith. Destiny.
"Fanciful words," many would say. But not Lee Merrick.
Those words are with him day and night. Intriguing him. Haunting him. And quite possibly driving him mad.
His only hope is to find the truth behind the enchanting visions of a woman he has fallen in love with but has never met.
Along the Beach is a 108,000-word novel journeying from the outermost reaches of the globe to the inner depths of the soul.
Far away from his Los Angeles home photographing exotic shorelines, Lee is entranced by mystical visions of the "Lady in White." Could she be the woman first revealed in a prophecy foretold in his youth—that he will someday meet his soulmate along the beach? Yet a secret from long-ago compels his own mother to stop at nothing to prevent his success—even if it means having him institutionalized against his will.
On a path of self-discovery spanning a decade, Lee faces the unknown in faraway places, and will ultimately be confronted with his greatest challenge: to overcome the logic of his doubts holding back his certainty that beyond the vision of her spirit, breathes this mysterious woman somewhere in the world. For he knows that he will never be whole until he touches her hand, to unite with the one who already completes his most sacred thoughts and echoes his own heartbeat.
(bio section / closing remark / why I chose that book agent)
QUERY VERSION 2
A horde of killer bees in Borneo. An armed robbery in Los Angeles. A deadly riptide off the Pacific. Malaria in East Africa. A vision of a lady in white guiding him to safety each time. For travel photographer Lee Merrick, the extraordinary is the ordinary.
As her ethereal hands guide Lee’s at the piano to play a Chopin prelude he never knew, he wonders about the prophecy from his youth that foretells he will someday meet "Her" along the beach. But the dark secret of his mother’s own deadly prophecy compels her to sabotage his pursuit at all costs—even if it means having Lee institutionalized against his will.
Time is running out for Lee. Mounting clues beckon him toward finding this woman who pleads for him to believe that she and her love for him are real, but he may not uncover the truth before his obsession robs him of his family, friends, and freedom.
ALONG THE BEACH is a 108,000-word New Age novel.
(same bio / closing / custom comment for choosing that agent)
Dec 9, 2009
In the first of a series of at least ninety-three books, Chuck Steak, the world's most badass, Dots the candy loving cop, is sucked into a deadly game on his wedding day where he has to convince Mia, his very Christian bride-to-be, along with fifty family members and a priest to get on a bus labeled "Why am I marrying this bitch?" Then, in a rip-off of the movie Speed, he has to keep the bus traveling above fifty-five miles per hour and also marry Mia within twenty minutes or else a bomb in her necklace will explode. However, after the Movie Maniac accidently sits on the remote detonator, Chuck is sent on warpath where he spirals downward and finds himself inviting villains, just like the one he is hunting, into his personal life. The ultimate question is, can Chuck ever hold onto happiness and let go of revenge?
Chuck Steak, completed at 70,000+ words, is not only a satirical crime story, but also a play on the clichés found in almost all novels and movies. As a fan of pop culture, I've set out to create an over the top adventure with a heavy emphasis on sarcasm, but the spotlight is strictly on Chuck—a near immortal man when it comes to action sequences with the strength of Arnold Schwarzenegger, the thirst for revenge like the Punisher and the charisma of Bruce Campbell from Army of Darkness. Like testosterone is to Harry Potter and Edward Cullen, Chuck's only weakness is self-destruction, and he flirts with it the entire novel.
In an unknown preparation for this novel, I've seen over 5,000 movies, 700 of them in the theater with the ticket stubs to prove so, and have searched all over the internet for what people consider the most annoying clichés, coming up with a list in the hundreds. I am already hard at work on the sequel Chuck Steak: A declaration of war on the justice system and the genre of YA where Chuck will run into a villain who thrusts him into a computer programmed world similar to the Matrix filled with fluffy high-school drama and then ultimately into the only true family he's ever known—the justice system.
Accompanied by my minor in English, I've written brochures, press releases and web content for personal businesses. I worked as a freelance editor on the side, and to date, have edited seven full-length novels. In the first quarter of 2010, my 15,000 word short story Uncurable will be published in the fifth installment of the award winning series Twisted Tails. I'm also a twenty-six-year-old stay at home dad who is happily married with a wonderful two and a half year-old son.
If you would like to read Chuck Steak, I will gladly send sample chapters or the entire manuscript. I want to thank you for taking the time to read this query letter, and I look forward to hearing from you.
(I hope this meets the guidelines-and thanks in advance if this gets posted.)
Twenty-five. The age at which Abigail Bronsen hoped to have her life figured out. Instead, she’s a virgin stuck at a dead end job who spends her Saturday nights cleaning her apartment.
Not exactly the exciting life she planned for herself at fifteen, as she’s reminded when her sister produces a list of goals Abigail wrote in high school. Climb a mountain. Give blood. Ride a motorcycle. Write a column for a newspaper or magazine. Fall in Love. She can’t check anything off.
Abigail is certain she’s suffering from a terminal case of averageness when BAM! Mr. Right crashes into her. Ben Harris smashed her car, but boy, was he cute. He’d never be into a girl like her, would he? Actually, he would.
Within a few weeks, Abigail doesn’t recognize her own life: maybe twenty-five isn’t so bad, after all. She has a boyfriend for the first time ever. With Ben’s encouragement the list of things she hasn’t done diminishes. Within a few months, she receives a promotion.
Who is she kidding? Twenty-five is the best year of her life.
Okay, maybe not. The magazine Abigail works for wants her to move to London to write a column. But leaving the United States means leaving Ben. How can she make a choice between the man she loves and the career she wants?
She makes the wrong choice.
TWENTY-FIVE (Contemporary Romance, 98K words) is written in both Abigail and Ben’s point of views. The story will appeal to readers who loved The Notebook, by Nicolas Sparks.
The full manuscript is ready to send for your review. Thank you, and I look forward to hearing from you.
Dec 8, 2009
I am seeking representation for my novel entitled MEND.
He attacks. He springs upon his victims with hatred and blind fury, slashing their bodies and shredding the peace of The City Too Busy to Hate. He kills. With no evidence left behind, four families have fallen in his wake, and he is not finished.
Enter Jacob Santos, a man prodded toward the killer by the ghost of a forgotten childhood friend. Plagued by hallucinations and incoherent memories, Jacob reluctantly follows the cryptic messages, knowing that he must unmask the killer and decipher the mysterious link between them in time to save another family from being slaughtered.
However, unveiling the secret could push Jacob into the chasm that lies at its heart and bring about the complete unraveling of his mind. He cannot fail. Doing so will turn him from the best hope to stop the killer, and into the catalyst of an unprecedented murderous rampage. Jacob must stop it.
At 70,000 words, MEND is a complete Crime Fiction. It is story that to my knowledge has not been told in such a way as I present it. Please find the first chapter attached for your review. My manuscript is ready to be sent at your request.
I thank you for your time and look forward to hearing from you.
Dec 3, 2009
The night was gloomy and irritable, or possibly suffering from indigestion. The body, fallen from a seventh story window and covered in blood, refused to remain sprawled and was taken to a hospital. The night-shift nurse with the caustic sense of humor christened him "Seven." Saddled with this strange moniker and released from the doctor, Seven has little recourse but to befriend a philosopher named Tori -- who has a marked tendency to pull physical objects out of his hat -- and open a detective agency. The paint is still drying on their office door when a briefcase stuffed full of counterfeit money, an invitation to a murder, and an overabundance of already murdered corpses all begin clamoring for attention at once.
Desperately keeping busy in order to avoid the painful mysteries of self, Seven accepts all of these cases in stride, some at a run. An FBI agent sorely in need of vacation time, an environmentalist organization of ninjas, and the notorious gang of up-and-coming mob boss Eggbert "Eggy" Thornton seem determined to ensure Seven won't survive long enough to resolve anything, anyway. The absurd, almost ridiculous realities encountered by the ensemble cast ensure that the world they inhabit is never dull -- even the minifridge holds disturbing secrets.
Everything is Fine, Nothing is Ruined is a humorous paranormal mystery clocking in at just over 60,000 words, and is my first novel.
[personalized closing explaining why I am querying this particular agent]
Dec 2, 2009
Seven, a detective with an inadvisable haircut, and his pal Tori -- a philosopher with a strange hat indeed -- are down on luck, money and protein. Luckily, a briefcase full of counterfeit money and a mishmash of dead bodies embroil them like a chef embroils a petulant duck. Now thoroughly marinated in circumstance, the pair unexpectedly find themselves in possession of the briefcase. Sensing no plausible alternative, they are chased through a variety of locales, from a haunted mansion all the way to a jewelry store -- robbery in progress.
Everything is Fine, Nothing is Ruined is a humorous paranormal mystery about a detective completely uninterested in self-discovery. Can he keep himself busy long enough to avoid the painful mysteries of self? An FBI agent sorely in need of vacation time, an environmentalist organization of ninjas, and the notorious gang of boss Eggbert "Eggy" Thornton seem determined to ensure Seven won't survive long enough to answer these pesky questions anyway. The absurd, almost ridiculous realities encountered by the ensemble cast ensure that the world they inhabit is never dull -- even the minifridge holds disturbing secrets.
I want to thank everyone for the helpful tips. I hope this sums it up short and to the point while at the same time answering some questions.
Dear Blah Blah,
Akali is a witch. She just doesn’t know it yet.
That is until she unwittingly meets Isaac who nabs her right from her home. Fortunately, Isaac has other plans besides rape and murder. He’s a vampire desperate for her help. With that shocking news, Akali’s normal life vanishes and is replaced with a world of dangerous creatures whose soul intent is stopping her from discovering her true power. Together with Isaac, whether she wants him there or not, Akali finds herself on a whirlwind journey to stay alive while trying to free his family from an ancient curse.
DARK ABYSS is a paranormal romance complete at 105,000 words and available upon your request. Thank you in advance for your time and consideration.
Closing personal info.
Dec 1, 2009
I'm a fifteen year-old girl being followed everywhere by a forty-year old Algebra teacher. Sounds creepy, right? But not insane. At least that's the line I've been feeding myself over and over since last ight. I'm not crazy. Despite the fact that I can't stop glancing over my shoulder- checking if he's still there. It's like I have Tourette's or something.
But I have a real good excuse. Even better than teenage-girl-being-stalked-by-middle-age-male-teacher. The man walking two steps behind me right now, died yesterday morning. It fact, I witnessed his death.
And Mr. Schuster and I aren't exactly BFF's. He hates me. Or hated me. Not sure which to use. That's right, Alan Schuster is dead. He croaked. Bit the bullet. And yet I don't find any pleasure in his absence. BECAUSE HE'S STILL HERE! Only I can see him.
I must be special or cursed. I promise I'm not normally this insensitive. I even cried yesterday, but the guy is driving me nuts. He won't shut up. What does a girl like me do when her dead teacher is tailing her and giving long lectures on why she should shut off the TV and get some homework done? As if that were possible in my current mental state (aka – completely freaked!).
Here's what I did. I walked to school this morning and headed straight to the guidance counselor's office, where sanity has some kind of tangible measurement. In other words, he can tell me if I'm nuts. It was the only plan I could come up with after zero hours sleep and
several minutes spent googling the phrase, I see dead people.
The second I entered the school building, I turned and headed up the empty staircase leading to the third floor. I hadn't ever talked to Dr. Cooper, but I'd seen him in the halls and knew where his office was.
"What exactly are you trying to accomplish?" Schuster asked in that sneering tone of his.
The sound made the already churning acid in my stomach move like the washer's spin cycle. This was much worse than our usual bonding time of forty-five minutes a day. It was twenty-four seven with that teacher. You know the one I'm talking about. Mine has geeky black
glasses, blonde hair combed to the side like a preschooler on the first day, he's about six foot four and a scowl is permanently embedded to his face. It travels all the way to his eyes.
Everybody who's been to high school can name the teacher they dreaded most. The one that caused them to slide down in their chair as low as possible praying they could go one day without being noticed. Now imagine taking that teacher home with you, and everywhere else.
After only twelve hours, I was nearly ready to check myself in to the psyche ward. Instead of heading to the nearest ER I opened my mouth. Not usually a good thing given my tendency to speak, then think. Normally, the outbursts of profanities were directed at rude boys in
gym class, never a teacher.
"Can't you just shut-up for five minutes?" I snapped. "It's bad enough I had to listen to you all night. I haven't slept more than a few hours in two days."
I couldn't look at him, but I'm sure his face had that twisted, angry, purple look to it.
Well, maybe not purple anymore.
I shook my head trying to focus on sanity. I needed sanity to get my questions answered. Otherwise who knows where I might end up? I knocked on the door of room 312 then I saw the note next to the door.
"In Meetings this morning. Will return after 10:00am."
My panic level rose quickly. This had been my only plan and nothing was solved. Going to class like everything was normal and ghosts weren't talking to me seemed like an impossible task. I headed quickly down the steps and crawled underneath the stair case on the second floor before the halls became too crowded. Before anyone saw me. It was my favorite hiding place and I couldn't go home to my big empty house with Schuster in tow. It was less eerie being surrounded
by people, even in hiding at least I knew they were there.
"Cutting class is against school policy," Schuster ranted on. His giant feet paced back and forth in front of the staircase. "You would never listen to a teacher would you Miss Rollings? Of course not. With that thick skull of yours I'm surprised you can make it through an entire school day without a handful of detentions."
Maybe this was my punishment for being such an academic loser. The past two days my life had taken a small turn for the positive. I got a taste of success, but it was wrong to claim honesty when several incidents of lying and cheating were involved. Maybe it was karma.
Was this really what I deserved? Watching a man die right in front of my eyes, and being condemned to have that man's voice ringing in my ears.
I was there when it happened, the only one in the room. I shouldn't have been there. If I just let things go like usual and not allowed Matt to help, I wouldn't have been there that morning. Three days ago I dreaded walking in to this school building and facing Schuster alive, but now I would take that day over this one in a heartbeat. Everything started Monday morning. The root of my bad Karma.
Forty-five minutes a day with a living Mr. Schuster was bad enough for Jaycie, now he's following her and her boyfriend into their favorite make-out spots. She can't get any sleep at home with a ghost wandering around and boring World History class usually provided a good
opportunity for a nap, except now she has a dead teacher leaning over her shoulder threatening to sing show tunes if her notes on Hitler aren't perfect.
Mr. Schuster isn't exactly pleased with being condemned to follow 'a silly little girl around'. In fact, of all the students he could be stuck with, Jaycie is his last choice. But when he tries to leave her side, everything turns black and the darkness shows nothing but misery and a loneliness no man could withstand.
It's a crazy game of tug-o-war and Jaycie knows Mr. Schuster must have some kind-of unfinished business and figuring out what is keeping him around might be the only way to get rid of him.
Its Jaycie who makes the first move, a truce to work with the man that made her dread every single day of ninth grade. She opens up her world to him and he reluctantly does the same. Jaycie discovers a real person living beneath the hardened man with the permanent scowl.
She makes it her personal quest to ensure his life means something, even after death. IN THE CLOUDS is a 65,000 word young adult novel.
Akali is a witch. She just doesn’t know it yet.
That is until she meets Isaac, her friendly kidnapper. But besides being friendly, Isaac has other abilities that take him off the spectrum of being a normal run-of-the-mill kidnapper. As Akali discovers his nature, she also discovers her true heritage and purpose. Together, they begin a whirlwind journey to stay alive and free Isaac’s family from an ancient curse.
DARK ABYSS is complete at 105,000 words and available upon your request. Thank you in advance for your time and consideration.