Dear Mystery Agent,
Melody is a young muse who has the misfortune of screwing up most of her missions--which pretty much sucks when you have someone as strict as Zeus for a father. After having her inspiration license revoked for a hundred years for reckless behavior, Melody is finally released from house arrest and put on probation.
When her Inspiration Officer assigns her to help a pair of down-on-their-luck teen brothers, Melody is glad to be back on the job--even if it means posing as a high school student. But with unexpected romance added to the mix, things get complicated. Even Melody knows falling in love with a human is a big no-no, so she is left with an impossible choice: give up the boy she loves to keep her muse status or succumb to her feelings and give up her immortality.
My young adult paranormal romance, BITTERSWEET MELODY, is complete at 60,000 words.
Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to hearing from you.
One thing I can say for sure is I’m the only muse in history to ever have been grounded. I know this is true because my father told me. Well, more like screamed it at me while gripping the heck out of a lightning bolt, holding it over his head like a maniac. He totally over-reacted, of course. I mean, come on. Revoking my Inspiration License and grounding me for a hundred years? That completely sucks!
"Sucks" is a word I learned from my sister Calliope. She spends a lot of time with humans and picks up the best phrases. Whenever she comes home from a case she teaches them to me. Calliope’s a lot more fun than my other sisters--and there are many of us, not just three or nine like humans are misled to believe. And the only one who’s ever been suspended from inspiring? That’s right: me. It’s so unfair. My father says I had it coming, but I swear I’m not a trouble maker; I’m just misunderstood.
But that’s all over with now. I’ve served my time and I’m about to get my freedom back. Don’t get me wrong, Mount Olympus is pretty much the most beautiful place ever, but I’ve had it with being locked up here unable to do what I was born to do.
The last step toward my ticket out of here is a meeting with my Inspiration Officer so I can get my license back. That’s where I am now: sitting in his little office of cloud-white walls, rocking back and forth on the hind legs of a rickety chair while I wait for him to show up.