I've read that you’re drawn to character-driven stories, and I hope you’ll consider representing my novel DUSTED, a young adult urban fantasy set in modern-day
For sixteen years, tabloids nationwide have maligned Brina, the infamous human-pixie hybrid. Both humans and pixies find her odd, but not even Brina knows how odd she really is. Though she’s always envied how the pixie royal family can produce all eight kinds of dust, she’s never imagined doing it herself. But then…
When Brina wakes up with multicolored sheets the morning after her brief kidnapping, an ancient secret begins to unravel. Soon, Brina attracts the attention of a group of ruthless rebels, who’ve been snatching at the edges of the secret for years, and are convinced she can help them tear it wide open. She’ll need her wits and her wings free and clear to contend with the rebels, dodge high school dust addicts, learn some dust control…and decide if a certain handsome human is too good to be true.
Because the rebels are right, and Brina’s blood could start a revolution. Worse: no one who knows it, no one who can prevent it, can even breathe a word of it. Compulsion spells are a b****.
Fans of WINGS by Aprilynne Pike will enjoy the blending of the real and the supernatural in DUSTED, which is complete at 98,000 words. The first 248 words are attached below.
As a criminal defense lawyer, I’ve learned about the drug trade directly from traffickers and addicts. I’ve published a paper on the juvenile death penalty, but this is my first novel. The death penalty paper was easier.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Brina knew better than to go out in public looking less than her questionable best. But she was late, it was rush hour, and home was thirty minutes away by car…but only ten by air. So she left her human-sized purse and car keys with her best friend Moira and launched her mouse-sized self out the palace window into the sweltering air of
The first flash came from her left and, like an idiot, she twisted toward it. Which is how the photographer’s zoom lens caught her: eyes opened wide, long braid slicked back from her face with her own sweat, and limbs sticking out at startled angles from her workout tank and short-shorts. All of it glowing softly brown in the dusk.
As a special bonus, the magazine’s cover photo captured the moment her four bright white wings froze in shock, sending her plummeting a few feet downward. The resulting portrait could have been entitled “Freak, Falling” but instead the headline proclaimed: “Human-Pixie Hybrids: The Last American Taboo.” That worked, too.
Naturally, the cover was taped to her locker first thing Tuesday morning. It hadn’t been torn carefully, and a jagged gash ripped halfway through Brina’s right wing. As if she needed help looking ridiculous.
Brina stopped in the middle of the hallway and forced herself to breathe. Stretched her lips into a slight smile. Pressed her head to the side, as if pondering a pleasant surprise. Ignored the churning in her stomach.