Dear Ms. Gref,
I read that you have a "weak spot" for fairy tale retellings. I hope that my YA contemporary fantasy, THE GLASS PRINCE, is a story that will appeal to you.
Clara Knight wants nothing more than to perfect her baking skills, enjoy her seventeenth birthday party with friends, and go to prom with her super-popular boyfriend. But then Rion rolls into town, complete with golden-boy good looks and a sexy British accent. When Rion kisses her in front of her boyfriend and all her party guests, all social-hell breaks loose.
Clara flees to upstate New York, accepting her estranged Grandma’s invitation to spend the summer with her. Grandma did promise to unveil some secret family tradition, after all. What Clara actually learns is that she shares a curse with Rion, the immortal son of Snow White, and that her family is bound to help him. Too bad he seems more interested in kissing Clara than breaking curses.
When a family heirloom and moonlight whoosh her away to the prince’s hometown of Elysia, hundreds of years in the past, Clara finds a cryptic riddle--her first clue to breaking the curse. As she digs deeper into her family’s past, she realizes that Dad’s death, always thought to be an accident, might have actually been murder. And when Grandma starts acting rather “witchy” and seems to be plotting against her, Clara realizes that working with the boy she loves to hate is her only chance for survival.
THE GLASS PRINCE is complete at 72,000 words and the first 250 words are pasted below, per the contest guidelines. I earned a BA in English from Weber State University, am a member of SCBWI, the League of Utah Writers and the Pied Pipers online critique group. I attend at least one writing conference every year and, of course, I'm always reading. I appreciate your time and consideration.
THE GLASS PRINCE
My grandma is alive. Wow. I’d said the words earlier, when I’d first opened and read her letter out loud. They’d tasted foreign on my tongue. I thought them again now, alone and safe in my bedroom. I sunk deeper into my cushy turquoise comforter as I stared at the ceiling and contemplated my not-so-dead grandma’s words. Come to New York, her letter had said. I’ve got a family secret to share. I snorted. As if the fact that she was alive wasn’t secret enough?
I picked up the letter again and held it at arm’s length in front of my face. Her words were so cold, so matter-of-fact. There were no apologies. No explanations for her absence in my life for the past seventeen years. She did wish me a happy birthday. Did she think that was enough? Oh, yeah. The necklace. I dropped the letter and let it flutter to the edge of my bed. I felt around for a thin chain that had a silver key attached to it. When my fingers made contact with it, I held it up so I could see it. The head of the key was a red ruby apple wearing a tiny silver crown and when the sun rays filtering in from my bedroom window touched it, it twinkled.
Funny. For a grandmother I’d never known, her gift somehow seemed familiar. I let it swing like a pendulum in front of my face, dipping my hand lower and lower until the bottom of the key hit my nose.