Title: SKYFIRE
Category: YA
Genre: Fantasy Thriller
(w/strong romance)
Word count: 88,000
Pitch:
For sixteen-year-old Jesse, discovering he can stop time, and
with practice go back in it, creates a unique opportunity: he can convince his
past self to grow a pair and tell his best friend Brycen that he loves him.
His dream dies when terrorists learn of his ability; they plot to implant a mind-control device in his brain and force him to freeze time so their massive bombings can’t be stopped.
Jesse depends on Brycen for help but when inconsistencies suggest Brycen might side with the terrorists, Jesse must decide how far he’ll go for love when he could lose so much more—his free will.
His dream dies when terrorists learn of his ability; they plot to implant a mind-control device in his brain and force him to freeze time so their massive bombings can’t be stopped.
Jesse depends on Brycen for help but when inconsistencies suggest Brycen might side with the terrorists, Jesse must decide how far he’ll go for love when he could lose so much more—his free will.
Q1: In
your MC's voice, what costumed character do you most relate to and why?
Of course I’m Janus—both our names start with ‘J’ and he’s
one of few deities original to the mighty Romans, not copied from the Greeks.
Depicted with two faces, Janus represents transitions the same way I’m the
deciding factor in whether or not the world loses the American superpower and
staying humble about it, of course.
Q2: As
an author, what makes your manuscript a tasty treat (unique/marketable)?
My manuscript has something for everyone—thriller addicts,
romantics, and fantasy gurus alike—with the unique way a veil of magic falls
over a hotbed of political tensions and a looming revolution, phenomena so
integral to the human experience that they still pose the most pressing
questions. Told between Brycen’s and Jesse’s POVs, readers will relate to how
the struggle for freedom, independence, and love is instinctual in all of us,
no matter who you are.
First 250:
Jesse
"Neither of them wants custody of you?”'
“That’s what I gathered,” I repeat and twist the end of my scarf around my finger. It’s not Brycen fault that he doesn’t believe it. I wish I didn’t, that I’d stop caring, but the whole thing still forms a nauseous empty hole in my stomach. “But I mean, what’s new, right?”
“Nothing, I suppose,” Brycen says. “Jesse, once they settle this thing, will you have to move?”
Thank God the crosswalk signal turns red and we have to stop at the corner—my legs turn to jelly and that hole in my stomach rips open, sucking in worries like a black hole. Moving.
Brycen turns to me, looks up at me with those big green eyes and distinct, slanted eyebrows. Unintentional on his part, but I’ve never spent a day without a fluttering burn in my throat when he watches me like this. And I’m not ready to start.
“They broke their company in half and Mom’s taking her part to South Dakota for the virtually nonexistent taxes. I don’t want her to take me. I can’t leave.”
I can’t move away from the liberal honking surrounding us and shine of lights reflecting off skyscrapers, buildings daring to touch the sky because no one can stop them. No one can tell all these people, filling the sidewalks despite the time of night, where they should be or who they should be. That charisma, persona, individuality would disappear from my life.
And be replaced with a state that believes I don’t deserve the right to marry.
To our fabulous AGENTS--there's one more post for your consideration HERE!
"Neither of them wants custody of you?”'
“That’s what I gathered,” I repeat and twist the end of my scarf around my finger. It’s not Brycen fault that he doesn’t believe it. I wish I didn’t, that I’d stop caring, but the whole thing still forms a nauseous empty hole in my stomach. “But I mean, what’s new, right?”
“Nothing, I suppose,” Brycen says. “Jesse, once they settle this thing, will you have to move?”
Thank God the crosswalk signal turns red and we have to stop at the corner—my legs turn to jelly and that hole in my stomach rips open, sucking in worries like a black hole. Moving.
Brycen turns to me, looks up at me with those big green eyes and distinct, slanted eyebrows. Unintentional on his part, but I’ve never spent a day without a fluttering burn in my throat when he watches me like this. And I’m not ready to start.
“They broke their company in half and Mom’s taking her part to South Dakota for the virtually nonexistent taxes. I don’t want her to take me. I can’t leave.”
I can’t move away from the liberal honking surrounding us and shine of lights reflecting off skyscrapers, buildings daring to touch the sky because no one can stop them. No one can tell all these people, filling the sidewalks despite the time of night, where they should be or who they should be. That charisma, persona, individuality would disappear from my life.
And be replaced with a state that believes I don’t deserve the right to marry.
To our fabulous AGENTS--there's one more post for your consideration HERE!
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