Dear Ms. Martindale,
What would you do if every time you touched someone, you saw
how they died?
17-year-old Wyndy Julyette, seemingly a normal girl, awakens
to find herself orphaned, mute, and cursed to see how other people die--before
From there, things increase from bad to worse as she seals
herself off from all human contact, from even communicating. Moving in with her
cruel uncle Lord Tucker, Wyndy and her twin sister Rian have to leave
everything behind, including Wyndy’s best friend, Michael. However, the twins
also gain a follower, a flattering yet disturbing man in charge of the
“peacekeeping” Scarlet Guard.
As Wyndy adjusts to this new life, a boy shows up from the
mystical North, a place the Scarlet Guard has sworn doesn’t exist. Wyndy
discovers that all these strange ties are related, in more ways than she could
ever imagine, to her own situation. Her Untouchable gift, her curse, is
embedded in the very formation of the island as she knows it.
In a world where magic is feared and color distinctions
reign, Wyndy must fight with all her being against what is easy and what is
right. The final confrontation leaves Wyndy with an impossible choice between
good and evil, between selfishness and altruism, between love and loss…
Complete at 140,980 words, Hero: First of the Wyndy
Julyette Chronicles is YA fantasy, which may appeal to readers of The
Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins and Matched by Ally Condie. Per your
submission requirements, I have enclosed the first 250 words.
My name is D.G. and I’m a broke college student. For seven
years writing has been my passion, a stress reliever and a perfect way to
unwind. I have been gripped with the love for recording how characters react to
scenarios I drop them into. All my novels are very character driven. Hero
is the first manuscript that I have polished and made publish-ready, yet I am
currently revising my second novel as well.
Thank you again, Ms. Martindale, for reviewing my project
and I hope to hear from you at your earliest convenience.
A red cup. Blue water in it.
A flash of red fabric. A black eye.
Fire. Hot and sticky. Burning my skin. Clouding my eyes with
smoke. Stealing the breath away from me.
Propelling through our three-room house; stumbling through
the door and into my parent’s bedroom. Seeing them lying in their bed,
motionless, caught up in the flames. Their faces start to change, turn to ash
“The window, the--are you crazy, Wyndy! Don’t open the
door!” Rian shrieked. Her voice was distorted over the hiss and crackle of
flames just outside our bedroom.
I didn’t care. I had to see for myself.
The covers tangled my feet and I fell out of bed on my hands
and knees. The air was dense with smoke and I blinked hard, clearing sleep and
the itching pain from my eyes. Rian fumbled through the dark to find me, her
cough and hoarse cry of “Wyndy” enough to make me stop.
Growling and ignoring the pain on my palms and knees, I
lurched upright and grabbed Rian’s hand, the gloves I’d been too tired to strip
off earlier still hugging my fingers. Rian latched onto me instantly, her
fingernails like claws, as I towed her towards the window.
“Stay behind me,” I wheezed sharply. The only answer Rian
gave me was a choking sob. No time to think now; just get her out of this
burning house and then see for myself if it was true.