I have entered another contest. It's to celebrate the 5/13 release of the YA fantasy, Wilde's Fire by
Krystal Wade, they are having an awesome
editor judged contest with
Curiosity
Quills Press! The honorable judge will be none other than the
Curiosity
Quills Acquisitions Editor for Young Adult, Krystal Wade. Check out
Sharon Bayliss' blog for all the entries. Good luck to everyone.
So here is my query and frist 500. If you have read this 10 tens and know it by heart, I also posted a Songspiration Post today where I try my hand at writing a song. So you can skip this post and go to that one. ;0)
QUERY:
Kella
Davis’ life is as far from heaven as you can get. She grew up in foster care,
has no human friends, and her sister thinks she’s a freak. But, Kella has a
secret: Her best friend, Gabrielle, is her guardian angel. They fuse into a
single being, communicating through feelings alone. With Gabrielle, Kella can
fly, kick the crap out of boys, and speak in any language she hears.
When
an earthquake hits Haiti, Kella flies in to lend her unique abilities to the
rescue effort. After a boy named Asher watches as she brings a little girl back
from the
dead, he follows her home and she finds herself face to face with the one
thing she never knew existed: someone like her.
Asher
swoops into her life with his charmingly awkward ways exactly when Kella needs
a human friend most. A fallen angel rips Gabrielle from Kella and leaves clues
behind which allude that her angel may not be on Earth or in Heaven. And she
may not want to be saved at all.
But Kella
won’t give up on her best friend, and she refuses to believe Gabrielle would
ever betray her. If her angel ceases to exist, Kella will be a shell, forever
haunted by what it meant to be something more than human.
THE
GUARDIAN TRIBE is my YA contemporary fantasy complete at 66,000 words, told in the
alternating perspectives of Kella and Asher.
FIRST 500:
Warmth
trickled up Kella’s arms and flowed to her back, twitching where her tattooed
wings connected. She sat on her couch savoring the silence. No Emma yapping.
Her sister was peacefully tucked away at school. Her shift at the coffee shack
ended so she stole a few minutes to herself before she was due at the
restaurant.
Times like
this Kella was thankful her life had finally become normal. Her jobs paid the
rent and allowed for a few extras. Emma was behaving. The chaos of the last few
years shoved in its proper hole. Life was simple.
And
boring.
No
disasters. No sneaking out at night. No secretly being the hero.
Not that
she wanted things with Emma to flare up again. Hell was not worth living
through twice.
Kella stretched
and glanced at her phone. Twenty minutes before she had to leave. Just enough
time to check if there were any new bites on her Craigslist ad. A shiny new
helmet was one of the few extras she allowed herself. Hopefully her old one would
bring in a few bucks, which could be used to buy some parts for Emma’s Honda.
While
signing into her email a headline caught her eye: A seven-point earthquake has rocked the
country of Haiti. Hundreds trapped, thousands feared dead.
The warmth
that swirled through her earlier went frigid. That was the end of her boredom.
All the
things she needed to do shot through her head.
Text Emma
with a lie. It would have to be a good one, Kella never left Emma alone
anymore.
Text her
coworkers and pull in all the favors she’d stocked piled in case something like
this happened.
Did she
have her shots up to date? Yep.
Passport?
She’d have to check. Usually she didn’t need to show it to anyone, but just in
case.
Food pack?
She had one stashed in her room. The last time she went somewhere without one
she had to eat the local food. Ugh, she would not do that again.
Texts
sent, clothes changed, and backpack ready. She’d have to figure out where she
could stash her motorcycle, but she’d worry about that when she got to the
mountains.
Kella
pulled the hood of her sweatshirt a little tighter around her frozen ears after
locking her apartment. Hopefully Haiti would be warmer than Portland.
#
The view
of Port-au-Prince from above resurrected memories of the dead. Earthquakes were
one of her least favorite disasters. She hated the aftershocks.
Survival
mode was her specialty. Get in, get out, and stay focused. At least that’s what
she told herself as she watched the smoke billow into the sky from fires raging
beneath. She coughed at the stench of burnt flesh mingled with fuel and squinted
in an attempt to make out what lie below, realizing the dots of dust running around
in unorganized pandemonium were people.
One of the structures Kella flew over had a
mountain of shopping carts piled around on the broken slabs of concrete.