Hi readers!
I'm entering a contest that asks me to post my query letter and first 250 words of my young adult novel, HANNAH'S HALF. The contest is based on the premise of the TV show, "The Voice." Four fabulous YA authors will pick their teams, "coach" them (help make the entries all sparkly) and then pitch to agents. What an amazing community of writers! 200 writers made the cut -- best of luck to everyone!
Mandy
QUERY
18-year-old Hannah Spencer would give anything for a
dead-free day. For most of her life, she’s ignored the Visitors who appear in
her bedroom each morning. After all, they’re dead, they don’t speak and they
rarely stay more than a few minutes.
Her communications with the deceased are pretty one-sided
until Adam, a recent casualty in a car accident, appears and demands her help
to move on to the afterlife. Troubled by her intense attraction to him, Hannah
uncovers the truth about their connection: Adam is her twin flame — the other
half of her soul— and the two have spent a number of lifetimes together, each
one ending in Hannah’s untimely death.
Unable to ignore their bond, Hannah and Adam rekindle their
ages-old romance. However, when she links this mysterious ghost to the
disappearance of his sister and the terrifying recurring dreams she’s been
having, she must decide if helping him is worth risking her life … again.
Hannah's Half is a young adult paranormal
mystery, complete at 62,000 words. I hope you find the premise intriguing
enough to request a partial or full manuscript.
FIRST 250 WORDS
“You got a name,
kid?”
The boy sitting on
my bedroom floor couldn’t have been more than four or five years old. The
cowlick in the back of his blond hair needed taming. As he sat cross-legged,
holding a half-inflated red balloon, I noticed that the bottoms of his bare feet
were dirty.
I rarely asked
questions anymore because the Visitors never speak. I mean never. I’ve been seeing dead people for as long as I can remember
and it’s always the same routine. Stare with haunted eyes, linger in the room,
disappear.
“The silent
treatment again. How original.” I sighed and pushed back my comforter. I’d
gotten over being shy in front of the dead a long time ago. If they were going
to invade my space, then they’d have to deal with seeing me in my panties.
As I rummaged
through my dresser to find a pair of jeans, the sweet, burned smell of kettle
corn filled my nose and carnival music played in my head. In strobe-like
flashes, I saw the little boy walking hand in hand with a girl about his
height. She handed him a cardboard cone wrapped with mounds of pink cotton
candy.
I shook my
throbbing head as if that could make the images disappear. Unless the Visitors
suddenly decided to tell me why my room was a ghost magnet, I vowed to ignore
them.
God, I’d give just
about anything to have a dead-free day.