Getting into a car accident was the second to last thing Maggie Lyons expected on prom night. The last thing she expected? Finding out she’s part machine.
Turns out, there are a lot of things Maggie didn’t suspect. Like the fact she almost died when she was four. And her parents let a stranger replace her broken parts with technology more advanced than anything on the Syfy channel. Or that her geekoid next door neighbor, Tommy, is hiding in the backseat of her car when she runs away in the middle of the night.
But that’s just the way her weekend is going.
Now Maggie and Tommy are on the lam in a stolen car, running from the police, the doctor who might be on to her condition, and the bald dude with a seriously bad attitude tailing them. Tommy would give anything to have her newly manifested strength, but Maggie’s not so keen--even a simple tickle fight could turn deadly. All she wants is to find her Maker and get her human parts restored. As they follow clues on a cross-country road trip, Tommy totally cramps her style, but he is beginning to distract her from the guy who wrapped his car around a tree on prom night. That’s problem in itself--geek love is definitely not a part of Maggie’s plan. If only she can find her Maker, maybe, just maybe, she can go back to life as normal.
Then Maggie meets the others like her. Turns out, there’s a lot more to be afraid of than winding up under a microscope.
I’m seeking representation for CONFESSIONS OF A TEENAGE CYBORG, a YA science fiction novel complete at 71,000 words. I have a MS in Arts Administration from
I understand you’re looking for young adult projects, including science fiction. Per the submission guidelines, the first 250 words of CONFESSIONS OF A TEENAGE CYBORG are enclosed below. I would be happy to supply additional sample chapters or a full manuscript upon request.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
CONFESSIONS OF A TEENAGE CYBORG
Weightlessness is a funny thing.
One moment ago, Dean and I were joking about the stupid, lime-green dress his ex-girlfriend wore to prom. His cheeks dimpled when he laughed.
Now his car skids over the embankment. Our bodies are a blur of pink satin and black tuxedo. My insides lurch and jerk, like knots trying to untie themselves. Dean's face is a blank sheet of confusion and me, well, I don't know how I look but I'm sure it isn't pretty. The freefall ends when we hit the tree. All that remains is pain and panic. And noise. All kinds of noise. Screams, creaks, and cracks from all sides. I can't feel my legs or arms, but I'm standing and screaming and tugging at the crumpled car door.
Dean's stuck. I have to get him out.
Gas fumes sting my nose and burn my chest. I tear the door off the car and nearly tear Dean's arm off, too. He tumbles out and I drag him toward the field. The car explodes, flames consuming it in a burst of red and orange. The force throws us back from the wreck. I sit in the long grass in my tattered dress, barely aware of the hot metal in my hands or Dean unconscious at my side. I can't tear my eyes off my left arm.
The skin's ripped open, gaping from wrist to elbow, but I hardly bleed. I try to make sense of it, but my arm isn't right...