Dear Ms. Martindale:
Five years ago a scientist injected Owen with an invisibility
serum. Four years ago he ran away.
When Owen discovered the goal wasn’t scientific advancement,
but creating undetectable criminals, he had to get out. A cure wasn’t an
option, and returning to his old life too dangerous, so he went into hiding.
Now he lives in a high school--where he has food and
shelter, plus it’s the closest to a “normal” life he can get. Owen’s lonely,
but at least he’s safe.
Until a stupid little decision steamrolls into a series of
major mistakes, and he gets on the radar of both a girl at the high school and
a gang of unvisibles. The organization doesn’t want loose ends. If they find
Owen, there’re only two options: they’ll force him back in or they’ll kill him. Owen doesn’t know if these unvisibles
are working for the organization or have their own agenda, but he isn’t about
to stick around and ask. The smart thing is to get out of town, fast. Except
for the girl.
Thanks to Owen’s screw-up, the unvisibles think she has a
connection to him, which means she’s in danger too. He has to decide: save himself
or protect her.
But not hiding anymore could mean risking more than he realized--like
his chance to ever be cured.
UNVISIBLE, a YA paranormal, is complete at 60,000 words. I
look forward to hearing from you.
I hated this part.
The bell rang exactly four minutes and forty-eight seconds
ago. Which meant I had twelve seconds to get through the next door. I was a hundred
yards away, the hall was too crowded for me to run like a normal person, and
with AP calculus, I had little hope someone would show up later than me to slip
Perfect attendance record, gone. Not that they’d give the
boy they couldn’t see a certificate.
I skidded toward the door. Closed, of course. Mrs. Harper
always closed the door, like she worried someone would want to spy on her lesson.
Not likely. Except, well, for me.
Eighteen days without a missed class. Not bad, but nowhere
near last spring’s forty-seven-day stretch--lots of art classes and two P.E.s. That’s
what I got for challenging myself this semester…and drinking two cokes at
lunch. I knew better than that.
I couldn’t pick up Mrs. Harper’s monotone through the thick
walls, but stuck around anyway, hoping for a straggler. No luck.
Of course it was this hour I got stuck. The worst hour. The
last hour before the seventeen I had to spend alone. Maybe I’d go out tonight.
I peeked out the nearest window. It didn’t look like rain. Probably safe.
Probably wasn’t good enough. Getting caught in the rain
meant bigger problems than my discomfort level. Like the body-shaped hole I
created when I stood in it.
I checked my watch. Still time to make it to the library.