I was represented by the Claire Gerus Literary Agency and we recently parted ways amicably. I see that you are looking for YA sci-fi and thrillers, and I’d like to show you MANAS, complete with series potential at 75,000 words.
Zellie, a prodigy spy with pink hair and a penchant for knitting, is sent to
In addition to years of professional editing, I have extensive experience writing professionally in both traditional print and online media.
Attached below are the first 250 words, as per your request. I would be honored if you would consider representing MANAS.
Thank you for your consideration and attention,
“Any time you’re ready,” I whispered into my headset. “I’m a go on your signal. Of course, I’m comfortable where I am, too, if you’d like to continue taking your sweet-a** time.”
Fifty stories below me, Trey grunted. “Keep your pants on, little one. You’ll get your shot. This isn’t as easy as it looks.”
Through our camtacts--nanobot technology built into contacts--I watched Trey lunge again at the metal backdoor in the subway station. My viewer, attached to my wrist, showed four quadrants with different locations. Each contained a direct link to the rest of my team--Trey, Jace, Marienne and Emerson. Altogether, a deadly quintet.
The reception on Trey’s quadrant fuzzed as he made contact with the rusted metal. “Have you even broken a sweat?” he asked, most of his attention focused on busting down the back door into the building to use as our escape route.
“I am a sniper, not a strong-armed brute,” I said sweetly. I was teasing him, but part of me wanted action, which I wouldn’t get unless something went wrong. Such is the role of the mission lead--boring.
“Never send a woman to do a man’s job.”
“Will you two shut up? You’re interfering with my feed,” Marienne snapped. Our resident hacker, she sat in the café across the street. I watched her orange fingernails click across the laptop’s keyboard. “OK, I’m waiting at the gates of the system mainframe. Your word and I’ll get the door.”