I have completed an 88,000 word science fiction YA novel entitled LOVELY, PERILOUS THINGS, and I think it might interest you.
Just the name of the mythical sea monsters strikes fear in the heart of every sisterling at The School for Sisterly Studies. But one-day-shy of sixteen, Clementine has bigger things to worry about than imaginary squidbeasts lurking outside of the island walls of Rivanna. Like that tomorrow is her Choosing, and she’ll just die if handsome Beau Langford doesn’t pick her to be one of his brides. And that her snobby sisterling Esme thinks they’re all being watched. (And she might be right.)
So what happens when weird Gideon Langford with his ugly birthmark chooses her instead? And Clementine finds a mysterious amulet and a torn up book by a missing girl that says the Saresyn are real? Inside the opulent city of
But when one little island is all that’s left, sometimes a girl has to take a leap of faith.
And swim for her life.
I hold an MFA in fiction from
Thank you for your time. I look forward to hearing from you.
LOVELY, PERILOUS THINGS
A cheetah crept by me in the high grass, stalking an ostrich off in the distance. The awkward bird was strutting aimlessly, its feathers plumed and totally unaware that it was so close to death. I could hear my breath, and I felt the tension in my body rise as the cheetah pounced, it’s long, powerful torso undulating into movement as it ran, fast, now faster, hunting its prey.
The African heat barreled down on me, and I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. I tried to keep up, wanting but not wanting to see the end of the chase. The ostrich craned its long neck and it’s legs pounded against the ground as it tried to escape. I could feel the vibrations, hear the distressed calls of the bird and the eerie silence of the big cat, as it leaped, heavy but graceful, turning this way and that, preparing to grab onto the ostrich and…
Ooomph. I stumbled, and the next thing I knew I was picking my face up from the hard rubber floor.
“What the?” I cradled my sore nose in my hand. There was only one reason the treadmill would stop in the middle of a simulation. One of my stupid sisterlings had ignored the Occupied sign. It would be just my luck that the day before the Choosing I’d break my face. Not even the medical bots could fix it that fast. And what man would choose me for a wife with a crooked nose?