So my query and a sample of my novel, FLASH, have been entered into The Writer's Voice. My sample is below. Happy reading.:)

QUERY:

Here's the thing about life....

It's unpredictable. Unforgiving. And utterly lonely.

At least for seventeen-year-old Benjamin Doran, who was born with the cursed job as a final liaison.

His job was simple. In exchange for carrying out the dying's final will, Benjamin receives a glimpse of someone set to die before their time. Problem is - aside from the obvious – that people suck at listening when they're told they're going to die. To say his track record for saving people sucks is a joke. He has made barely a tire mark on his long road of flashes.

He's well aware he's turned into a sarcastic asshole because of his curse, but who wouldn't when his peers refer to him as the freaky kid from the Sixth Sense? He keeps strictly to himself until his newest flash shows the image of a girl who despises everything about him.

Aristene may not be much, but she's the first person to realize his sarcasm is purely a shell. So when his attempt to bait her with friendliness explodes, he realizes that Aristene has found his Achilles heel. And as she digs her way deeper into his life, she's the one Benjamin needs to be prepared to lose. Because with a track record of 78-2, he just might lose the one person who sees him as more than a freaky kid with a gift.

Written from the dual point of view of Benjamin and Aristene, my young adult paranormal novel, FLASH, is complete at 67,000 words.

FIRST 250

Benjamin strolled into Taylor Woods Nursing Home knowing somebody was going to die.
 
Popping an orange Tic Tac into his mouth, he nodded at the secretary and headed off towards the East wing. He didn’t need a guest pass. She knew who he was, and based on the raise of a single eyebrow, she was curious. He peeked back, wondering if she was watching to see which room he walked into. 
 
She was.

“Howdy, Ms. Gail,” Benjamin crooned as he walked through the door at the end of the hallway. In this wing, lunch was served on trays as all residents were no longer able to make it to the cafeteria. The floral and disinfectant smell of the nursing home was too strong for his nostrils to make out the menu.

Ms. Gail wasn’t speaking. Benjamin blew out the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. Had he expected her to stand up and dance at his arrival? Nobody did that, even if they didn’t know about his gift. Or curse, depending on the day.

Her bedroom was noisy, even though it was just the two of them. The respiratory machine hummed as it breathed in and out, an accordion-like thing moving up and down with the noise. To the right of Ms. Gail was the heart machine. The green lines weren’t moving up very far, if that meant anything at all. And the beeping noise that accompanied the rising green line took a break for a few seconds before repeating.

The Writer's Voice Competition: Query and First 250

Dear "Writer's Voice" Friends,

Natalie’s senior class trip to England begins with a bang when she pees on a 747 in front of her entire class. What’s worse is that no one noticed, proving how invisible she is to the classmates that have called her Hannibal since freshman year, all thanks to a wired-shut jaw.

Four years of being teased and ignored has pushed Natalie into the shadows. But it's a cryptic message the morning of the flight that reminds her that her life is pure crap and it’s up to her to change.          

With high school seemingly transported to England, Natalie clings to her best friend, Krista, for support. But when Krista is lured to the dark side by a hard muscled football stud, Natalie all but packs up her bags to leave.

Enter Brant, a kaleidoscope-eyed Beatles fanatic who has far too much charm and even more demons in his own closet. And even though he’s 100% unavailable, he's possibly the one person who will take the high school politics out of her life, and give her the confidence to stand up against the people who shriveled her into a wallflower.

My young adult, contemporary novel, HERE COMES THE SUN, is complete at 66,000 words. It was recently chosen as a finalist for the Bakers Dozen competition at Miss Snark’s First Victim blog.

I have had one short story published in a multilingual publication during my tenure at Benedictine University, where I majored in Writing and Publishing with minors in Film Studies and Communication Arts.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I hope I'll have the opportunity to share the completed manuscript with you soon.

First 250:

I’m sitting outside my gate at O’Hare Airport mentally preparing for my senior class trip to England. The optimistic side of me expects to meet Prince Harry, have tea with the Queen, shop at Harrods and make a Beefeater giggle.

The pessimistic side of me remembers who my companions are for the trip; my classmates. To say that our relationship is unstable is stretching the truth. Our relationship is one big ball of toxic.

            Last night while I packed, my mom sat down on my bed and tapped the spot next to her, beckoning for some company. I threw my yoga pants into my suitcase and joined her, ignoring the scowl she threw towards my wardrobe.

My mom is an older version of myself in pretty much every way. We both generally tie our unruly hair back in a ponytail. Our blue eyes have never needed glasses. And we’re pale until the summer sun brings us a tan. How are we different? My mom can talk non-stop to anyone who will listen, while I prefer to just listen.

And tonight she wanted to talk.

She immediately laid in on me about my clothing choices. Yoga pants? Really? I wasn’t a bum. And did I remember to place my shampoo in a plastic bag, just in case the pressure makes it explode? And don’t I want to bring an extra set of clothing with me in my carry-on to freshen up when I arrive at Manchester Airport? It took all my strength not to roll my eyes. But yoga pants are comfy. Yes, my shampoo is locked away in a plastic bag. And I don’t have any more room in my carry-on for clothes.

Cupid's Kissing Scene Competition-Here Comes the Sun

This scene is brought to you by Cupid's Kissing Scene Competition, which can be located here. The italics are my lead-in.  Enjoy.:)

Here Comes the Sun

During a game of "5 Things" ( a bit like truth or dare in which each person needs to admit 5 things about himself, #5 being light and #1 being the doozy), Brant decides to use his #2 to tell Natalie that it was he who's had a crush on her since they arrived on British soil.  He uses # 1 to......         

            “You?”

            “Me.” He shrugs. “Yea, sorry if I got your hopes up.” He grins and I nearly fall against him in happiness. “I didn't know everyone then, besides, well, my group. You just, I don't know, awakened something in me with a single look. Do you know that I went looking for you at Conwy Castle that day, thinking of anything to say to you that would make you talk to me?”

            I think I just died and went to heaven. Or at least was just lifted up from Hades. Horrible place.

            “Is that your number one?”

            He looks taken aback, but quickly composes himself with a quick shake of his head. “No. My number one, and you'll have to forgive me right now, is that I brought you on this ferris wheel today so that,” he stops, his eyes traveling my lips and I almost know what's coming. 

           Almost.

            I hear my voice, but I don't even realize I'm speaking. My heart is thwacking hard against my chest, seemingly trying to crack my ribs. The words come out so softly that even I find them inaudible. “So that what?”

            He pauses, just for a moment. “So that I can do this.” And before my body and mind can react, he leans down and spreads feathery light kisses across my lips. With his hands encircling me, he pulls me in closer, our frantic hearts beating together. And the more he kisses me, the more I want. I follow his lead and with my hands, I encircle his head, my hands weaving through his hair. Our kiss deepens. He tastes like mint, his lips are warm and moist, and I give and take as much as I can.

            When I finally run out of air we pull apart, our eyes wide in a fresh excitement and our mouths open, gasping for more. But with no explanation needed, no words to be spoken, I drop my head onto his chest and watch as night falls on the city of London.

Answering Dora

My 5 year old while watching Dora....

Dora: Where do I go next?
Son: I'm not telling you.

At the end of Dora...

Dora: What was your favorite part of the story.  
Son: Nothing.


Why does he watch Dora?????  

Dear God...

Conversation between my eldest daughter and my middle son...

Sitting down to dinner....
Daughter (age 6):  "Hey, we should pray to God." 

This is what I get for enrolling her in Religious Ed.

Son (4):  "Okay." Bounces up and down in his seat.  "You start."

Daughter: "Dear God, thank you sooo much for this delicious food."

Son: "Dear God, thank you for our Christmas presents.  Don't forget to bring me toys."

Daughter: "Dear God, thank you for my family."

Son: "And don't forget to come down the chimney on Christmas Eve to bring us presents."

I have to intervene.

Me:  "Are you talking to God or Santa?"

Both children turn to me like deer in the headlights.  My son laughs.

Son:  "God."

Me:  "You do know Santa's the man who crawls down the chimney and leaves you presents, right?  God doesn't do that."

Son:  (eyeroll)  "God can do whatever he wants.  He's GOD!"


Touche.