Laura Heffernan's Blog, page 15
November 18, 2016
Friendsgiving Feedback Giveaway
Among so much bad news, we are all in need of a ray of light. I figured the least I could do is put together a short critique workshop to raise spirits and maybe help some writers.
So a small group of five published authors has come together to offer query critiques for the next two weeks to culminate in two Twitter chats about querying, publishing, and just any questions we might be able to help you with.
We will do a query critique every day starting on November 21st and plan to give first priority to marginalized writers, "own voices" stories, and stories with diverse characters, worlds, and challenges.
Your manuscript does not have to be completed. You just need a completed query letter. A large group of winners will be randomly drawn from the rafflecopter and their query letters requested. Then each of our participating authors will choose from the available entries and post their critique on their blog or on mine along with their feedback.
Hopefully we can all learn more about the writing process from the breakdowns of these query letters.
Our Twitter chats will be December 2nd at 4:00 pm EST and 8 pm EST under the hashtag #FFChat. Each will last an hour. We'd love you to post some questions ahead of time down in the comment section.
There's not much time so enter the rafflecopter quickly. And please help us spread the word under #FFChat. Links to the finished critiques will be given under that hashtag also.
Here is who we are:
Emily B. Martin
Park ranger by summer, stay-at-home mom the rest of the year, Emily B. Martin is also a freelance artist and illustrator. An avid hiker and explorer, her experiences as a ranger helped inform the character of Mae and the world of Woodwalker. When not patrolling places like Yellowstone, the Great Smoky Mountains, or Philmont Scout Ranch, she lives in South Carolina with her husband, Will, and two daughters, Lucy and Amelia.
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Liana Brooks
Liana Brooks writes science fiction and sci-fi romance for people who like fast ships, big guns, witty one-liners, and happy endings. She lives in Alaska with her husband, four kids, and giant mastiff puppy. When she isn’t writing she enjoys hiking the Chugach Range, climbing glaciers, and watching whales.
You can find Liana on the web at www.lianabrooks.com or on Twitter as @LianaBrooks. Goodreads Author Page.
Laura Heffernan
Laura Heffernan is living proof that watching too much TV can pay off: AMERICA'S NEXT REALITY STAR, the first book in the REALITY STAR series, is coming from Kensington’s Lyrical Press in March 2017. When not watching total strangers participate in arranged marriages, drag racing queens, or cooking competitions, Laura enjoys travel, baking, board games, helping with writing contests, and seeking new experiences. She lives in the northeast with her amazing husband and two furry little beasts.
Some of Laura's favorite things include goat cheese, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Battlestar Galactica, the Oxford comma, and ice cream. Not all together. The best place to find her is usually on Twitter, where she spends far too much time tweeting about writing, Canadian chocolate, and reality TV. Follow her @LH_Writes. Laura is represented by Michelle Richter at Fuse Literary.
Sarah Remy
In 1994 Sarah Remy earned a BA in English Literature and Creative Writing from Pomona College in California. Since then she’s been employed as a receptionist at a high-powered brokerage firm, managed a boutique bookstore, read television scripts for a small production company, and, more recently, worked playground duty at the local elementary school. When she’s not taking the service industry by storm, she’s writing fantasy and science fiction. Sarah likes her fantasy worlds gritty, her characters diverse and fallible, and she doesn’t believe every protagonist deserves a happy ending.
Before joining the Harper Voyager family, she published with EDGE, Reuts, and Madison Place Press. Sarah lives in Washington State with plenty of animals and people, both. In her limited spare time she rides horses, rehabs her old home, and supervises a chaotic household. She can talk to you endlessly about Sherlock Holmes, World of Warcraft, and backyard chicken husbandry, and she’s been a member of one of Robin Hobb’s longest-running online fan clubs since 2002. Find Sarah on Twitter @sarahremywrites and her Blog Michelle Hauck
Michelle Hauck lives in the bustling metropolis of northern Indiana with her hubby and two kids in college. Besides working with special needs children by day, she writes all sorts of fantasy, giving her imagination free range. A book worm, she passes up the darker vices in favor of chocolate and looks for any excuse to reward herself. Bio finished? Time for a sweet snack.
She is a co-host of the yearly contests Query Kombat and Nightmare on Query Street, and Sun versus Snow.
Her Birth of Saints trilogy from Harper Voyager starts with Grudging and Faithful. She's repped by Marisa Corvisiero of Corvisiero Literary.
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November 15, 2016
Happy Release day to Michelle Hauck and Faithful! Plus a giveaway!
The next volume in the Birth of Saints series is available now!
Following Grudging--and with a mix of Terry Goodkind and Bernard Cornwall--religion, witchcraft, and chivalry war in Faithful, the exciting next chapter in Michelle Hauck's Birth of Saints series!
A world of Fear and death…and those trying to save it.
Colina Hermosa has burned to the ground. The Northern invaders continue their assault on the ciudades-estados. Terror has taken hold, and those that should be allies betray each other in hopes of their own survival. As the realities of this devastating and unprovoked war settles in, what can they do to fight back?
On a mission of hope, an unlikely group sets out to find a teacher for Claire, and a new weapon to use against the Northerners and their swelling army.
What they find instead is an old woman.
But she’s not a random crone—she’s Claire’s grandmother. She’s also a Woman of the Song, and her music is both strong and horrible. And while Claire has already seen the power of her own Song, she is scared of her inability to control it, having seen how her magic has brought evil to the world, killing without reason or remorse. To preserve a life of honor and light, Ramiro and Claire will need to convince the old woman to teach them a way so that the power of the Song can be used for good. Otherwise, they’ll just be destroyers themselves, no better than the Northerners and their false god, Dal. With the annihilation their enemy has planned, though, they may not have a choice.
A tale of fear and tragedy, hope and redemption, Faithful is the harrowing second entry in the Birth of Saints trilogy.
Faithful - November 15, 2016Harper Voyager
Find It: Amazon | Barnes and Noble | HarperCollins | Goodreads
Also enter to win a signed paperback of Grudging, the first book in the series:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
A world of chivalry and witchcraft…and the invaders who would destroy everything.
The North has invaded, bringing a cruel religion and no mercy. The ciudades-estados who have stood in their way have been razed to nothing, and now the horde is before the gates of Colina Hermosa…demanding blood.
On a mission of desperation, a small group escapes the besieged city in search of the one thing that might stem the tide of Northerners: the witches of the southern swamps.
The Women of the Song.
But when tragedy strikes their negotiations, all that is left is a single untried knight and a witch who has never given voice to her power. And time is running out.
A lyrical tale of honor and magic, Grudging is the opening salvo in the Book of Saints trilogy.
GRUDGINGNovember 17, 2015
Harper Voyager
Find it: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Goodreads
Michelle Hauck lives in the bustling metropolis of northern Indiana with her hubby and two kids in college. Besides working with special needs children by day, she writes all sorts of fantasy, giving her imagination free range. A book worm, she passes up the darker vices in favor of chocolate and looks for any excuse to reward herself. Bio finished? Time for a sweet snack.She is a co-host of the yearly contests Query Kombat, Nightmare on Query Street, and Sun versus Snow.
Her Birth of Saints trilogy, starting with Grudging and Faithful (November 15, 2016), is available from Harper Voyager. Another epic fantasy, Kindar's Cure, is published by Divertir Publishing. She's repped by Marisa Corvisiero of Corvisiero Literary.
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November 11, 2016
COVER REVEAL - WILD CARD UNDERCOVER by Kari Lemor
I'm excited to share this cover and excerpt with you. Kari is not just a friend and member of the 17 Scribes, but we're sharing a release date, and her book looks amazing. I can't wait to read it!
WILD CARD UNDERCOVER
book #1 in the Love on the Line seriesBy Kari LemorPublished by Kensington Lyrical Underground – March 2017
All that glitters in Miami is not gold…
Lured in by a bad ex-boyfriend and the moonlight of Miami, Meg O’Hara is trapped in a nightmare situation, waiting tables for a crime boss and fearing for her life. When undercover FBI agent Christopher Shaunessy offers her a way out, she seizes it. Getting the goods on Salazar Moreno might not be easy, but she’ll do anything to be freed from her servitude and Moreno’s sexual advances, even if it means moving in with the charismatic agent.
Chris Shaunessy pretends to be Meg’s lover in order to keep her safe, but he steels his heart against further involvement. Passion has no place in the sordid world of organized crime. And yet, the closer they get to cracking the case, the stronger his feelings for the spirited waitress shine. It’s a dangerous game he’s playing, and taking Meg in his arms for real could prove a fatal misstep . . .
Check out the awesome cover, then scroll down for an excerpt!
ExcerptChapter 1
“Does that man never have a day off?” Margaret Kathleen O’Hara grumbled, grabbing her tote bag and sarong to move surreptitiously along the chairs by the pool. If the hotel manager saw her here again she’d be toast. He’d more than toss her out. Threats to call the police had been thrown at her for months now. Although in her case, that might be a better deal. With her eyes trained on his location and the Miami sun beating down on her exposed skin, Meg backed along the water’s edge attempting to leave the area before he spotted her. She needed to shower the chlorine out of her tangled hair and change for work soon. He looked in her direction and she rushed behind the closest object. It was six-foot-plus of blond-haired gorgeousness. The man’s eyes were glued to something on the upper deck. Her boss was sitting there with one of his expensive bimbos. Did Blondie like that type? Maybe he wouldn’t notice her little game of Hide and Seek. She leaned around him, ducking back when she saw the Pool Nazi still present. Getting caught was not an option. She already owed more than she could ever repay. “Are you okay?” Forest green eyes stared down at her, puzzled. Would he buy that she was simply looking for shade? He was big enough to provide it. With strong hands, he reached for her shoulders and Meg reflexively batted them away. She got enough of people groping her at work. Scorching curses froze before erupting from her mouth as the hotel manager moved, staring in their direction. Her mind kicked into overdrive, scrambling for a way to hide in plain sight. “Sorry,” she squeaked. Grabbing the man’s head, she planted her mouth solidly on his. Short, thick strands of hair tickled her fingers. Firm lips yielded no resistance to the increased pressure of her mouth. Better make this look good. An electric current skittered over her skin causing her heart to race. Maybe too good? Slowly he pulled her closer with his muscular arms. Her eyes flew open and she broke the connection. His hair-covered chest was too close for comfort. And much too tempting. Distance, she needed distance. Her eyes darted around, seeing no signs of the manager. A sigh escaped. Time to make her exit as well. “Sorry,” she mumbled again, looking up. Big mistake. The stranger’s curious eyes captivated her. They were soft and tender and filled with something she could…trust? If she still had any of that left in her. His hands were gentle as they held her. A tiny smile played about the full lips she’d brazenly kissed. She couldn’t believe she’d done it. Her mother would be appalled. But it had worked. The chlorine scent from the pool faded into the background as sweat and suntan lotion wafted off the man’s damp skin. Her stomach did cartwheels followed by a few back flips. Dangerous. “Let me go,” she hissed as reality returned. She gave a swift shove at his well-defined pectorals, rushing to get past, to escape from this distraction and the possibility of being caught. Her head whipped around at the sound of a splash and water droplets from behind. Gorgeous was just breaking the surface of the pool. Had she pushed him that hard? “Oops.” No time for apologies. He looked like the forgiving type. She had to blow this joint before the Pool Nazi came back. Grabbing her fallen sarong, she ran across the deck to hustle inside the luxury hotel. “Damn.” The manager stood sentry near the front door. A crowd appeared at her back making that way impossible. The stairwell to the left would have to do. She’d go up a few floors then down to the side entrance. She wrapped her sarong around her as she carried out her plan to avoid being seen…and caught. Meg should stop coming here to use the pool: this proved it. Sneaking in was adding to her already hellish life but swimming always helped work out the stress and the pool here was more accessible than any other on the strip. Pretending she had money to stay in a place like this, rubbing elbows with all the beautiful people, yeah, that got her through too. She’d learned the best times to come and not be seen. Well, for the most part. It was well worth the risk to get away from her dump of a room and its enchanting neighborhood. She’d leave this all behind her soon. She kept telling herself that. Had to believe it for her own sanity. Footsteps behind her pushed those thoughts away. Her bare feet padded silently along the lushly carpeted hallway. Heart racing, she ducked into the ice machine alcove, her sigh echoing in the silence. She glanced down. Her bag? She must have dropped it as she rushed off. How had she not realized? It couldn’t have been the threat of being arrested. Or the crooked smile of the handsome stranger she’d kissed. The one with the kind eyes and gentle hands. No, she couldn’t allow herself to be led astray by a pretty face. Not again. She continued down the hall, her trip cut short when someone grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.* * * *Links to all pre-order retailers can be accessed on the Kensington site. For more information on Kari Lemor or her Love on the Line series from Kensington Lyrical Underground, follow her on social media.http://www.karilemor.com/https://www.facebook.com/Karilemorauthor/https://twitter.com/karilemor https://www.pinterest.com/karilemor/
All that glitters in Miami is not gold…
Lured in by a bad ex-boyfriend and the moonlight of Miami, Meg O’Hara is trapped in a nightmare situation, waiting tables for a crime boss and fearing for her life. When undercover FBI agent Christopher Shaunessy offers her a way out, she seizes it. Getting the goods on Salazar Moreno might not be easy, but she’ll do anything to be freed from her servitude and Moreno’s sexual advances, even if it means moving in with the charismatic agent.
Chris Shaunessy pretends to be Meg’s lover in order to keep her safe, but he steels his heart against further involvement. Passion has no place in the sordid world of organized crime. And yet, the closer they get to cracking the case, the stronger his feelings for the spirited waitress shine. It’s a dangerous game he’s playing, and taking Meg in his arms for real could prove a fatal misstep . . .
Check out the awesome cover, then scroll down for an excerpt!
ExcerptChapter 1
“Does that man never have a day off?” Margaret Kathleen O’Hara grumbled, grabbing her tote bag and sarong to move surreptitiously along the chairs by the pool. If the hotel manager saw her here again she’d be toast. He’d more than toss her out. Threats to call the police had been thrown at her for months now. Although in her case, that might be a better deal. With her eyes trained on his location and the Miami sun beating down on her exposed skin, Meg backed along the water’s edge attempting to leave the area before he spotted her. She needed to shower the chlorine out of her tangled hair and change for work soon. He looked in her direction and she rushed behind the closest object. It was six-foot-plus of blond-haired gorgeousness. The man’s eyes were glued to something on the upper deck. Her boss was sitting there with one of his expensive bimbos. Did Blondie like that type? Maybe he wouldn’t notice her little game of Hide and Seek. She leaned around him, ducking back when she saw the Pool Nazi still present. Getting caught was not an option. She already owed more than she could ever repay. “Are you okay?” Forest green eyes stared down at her, puzzled. Would he buy that she was simply looking for shade? He was big enough to provide it. With strong hands, he reached for her shoulders and Meg reflexively batted them away. She got enough of people groping her at work. Scorching curses froze before erupting from her mouth as the hotel manager moved, staring in their direction. Her mind kicked into overdrive, scrambling for a way to hide in plain sight. “Sorry,” she squeaked. Grabbing the man’s head, she planted her mouth solidly on his. Short, thick strands of hair tickled her fingers. Firm lips yielded no resistance to the increased pressure of her mouth. Better make this look good. An electric current skittered over her skin causing her heart to race. Maybe too good? Slowly he pulled her closer with his muscular arms. Her eyes flew open and she broke the connection. His hair-covered chest was too close for comfort. And much too tempting. Distance, she needed distance. Her eyes darted around, seeing no signs of the manager. A sigh escaped. Time to make her exit as well. “Sorry,” she mumbled again, looking up. Big mistake. The stranger’s curious eyes captivated her. They were soft and tender and filled with something she could…trust? If she still had any of that left in her. His hands were gentle as they held her. A tiny smile played about the full lips she’d brazenly kissed. She couldn’t believe she’d done it. Her mother would be appalled. But it had worked. The chlorine scent from the pool faded into the background as sweat and suntan lotion wafted off the man’s damp skin. Her stomach did cartwheels followed by a few back flips. Dangerous. “Let me go,” she hissed as reality returned. She gave a swift shove at his well-defined pectorals, rushing to get past, to escape from this distraction and the possibility of being caught. Her head whipped around at the sound of a splash and water droplets from behind. Gorgeous was just breaking the surface of the pool. Had she pushed him that hard? “Oops.” No time for apologies. He looked like the forgiving type. She had to blow this joint before the Pool Nazi came back. Grabbing her fallen sarong, she ran across the deck to hustle inside the luxury hotel. “Damn.” The manager stood sentry near the front door. A crowd appeared at her back making that way impossible. The stairwell to the left would have to do. She’d go up a few floors then down to the side entrance. She wrapped her sarong around her as she carried out her plan to avoid being seen…and caught. Meg should stop coming here to use the pool: this proved it. Sneaking in was adding to her already hellish life but swimming always helped work out the stress and the pool here was more accessible than any other on the strip. Pretending she had money to stay in a place like this, rubbing elbows with all the beautiful people, yeah, that got her through too. She’d learned the best times to come and not be seen. Well, for the most part. It was well worth the risk to get away from her dump of a room and its enchanting neighborhood. She’d leave this all behind her soon. She kept telling herself that. Had to believe it for her own sanity. Footsteps behind her pushed those thoughts away. Her bare feet padded silently along the lushly carpeted hallway. Heart racing, she ducked into the ice machine alcove, her sigh echoing in the silence. She glanced down. Her bag? She must have dropped it as she rushed off. How had she not realized? It couldn’t have been the threat of being arrested. Or the crooked smile of the handsome stranger she’d kissed. The one with the kind eyes and gentle hands. No, she couldn’t allow herself to be led astray by a pretty face. Not again. She continued down the hall, her trip cut short when someone grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.* * * *Links to all pre-order retailers can be accessed on the Kensington site. For more information on Kari Lemor or her Love on the Line series from Kensington Lyrical Underground, follow her on social media.http://www.karilemor.com/https://www.facebook.com/Karilemorauthor/https://twitter.com/karilemor https://www.pinterest.com/karilemor/
November 2, 2016
Nightmare on Query Street Wrap-up
HUGE thanks to the agents, mentors, entrants who helped make Nightmare on Query Street such an awesome and successful contest. We had a fantastic number of requests this year. With 36 requests for the Monsters, 32 for the Legions, and 36 for the Minions.
For those who want stats, here's a blog breakdown:
Monsters
Screams: 8Shrieks: 21Shivers 7Total: 36 requests
Minions
Screams: 7Shrieks: 23Shivers: 6Total: 36
Legions
Screams: 9Shrieks: 17Shivers: 6Total: 32
Once again, thanks for such an awesome year. If you're working on a new project, don't forget about Query Kombat in June 2017 and Nightmare on Query Street next year! Hope you had a safe and happy Halloween!
October 27, 2016
Nightmare on Query Street Agent Round 2016
Time for the shivers, shrieks and screams to begin!
Following this post, you'll find the 15 members of Laura's Legions. Agents, you can head over to Michelle's and Mike's blogs as well to make more requests. Blogger is refusing to post all the entries on one page. Please page ahead or use the links in the sidebar to read all the entries.
Only agents are allowed to comment. IMPORTANT NOTE: Opera and Safari Browsers may NOT allow you to comment. Using another browser is HIGHLY recommended. If you have any trouble commenting or if you want to confirm your entries, please feel send me a DM on Twitter or email me at Laura (at) pitchslamcontest (dot) com.
Writers, cheer over on twitter. We're going to be under the hashtag #NoQS, shouting out agent appearances. So vent, be nervous, cheer each other on, and hold hands over Twitter.
For the next four days, agents will have fun ways to request in the contest:
They can SCREAM for a full request.
They can SHRIEK for a 50 page request.
They can SHIVER for a 10 page request.
Thank you to the amazing mentors who all did such a wonderful job helping polish the final entries.
GOOD LUCK EVERYONE! Hope you all get a ton of frighteningly amazing requests!
NoQS Adult Fantasy: DOUBLE-CROSSING THE BRIDGE: A TROLL HEIST
Title: DOUBLE-CROSSING THE BRIDGE: A TROLL HEISTGenre: Adult Humorous FantasyWord Count: 80,000
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship is:
Granu had one moment of weakness when the burdens of unemployment weighed so heavily, she needed to blow off steam. A night at Goron’s throwing back grog turned into an embarrassing one-night-stand with her creep of a neighbor, Len. Granu’s avoidance strategy fails when she decides to lead an amateur crime crew and discovers that Len is the only troll in the city with the computer skills to get the job done. She sucks it up and makes the true walk of shame—to ask for help. This is going to get ugly.
Query:
Granu needs cash fast, or she’s out on her ass. Her degree in E.T.E. (Early Trollhood Education) didn’t prepare her for the perils of dealing with raging young trolls in the throes of puberty, and when Granu’s students nearly turn her into a troll fillet, she’s left jobless and facing eviction. After falling from valedictorian to broke freeloader, Granu finds that the only work she’s qualified for is demeaning job in the tar pits. She’d sooner become the stone centerpiece of a human playground.
Just when she thinks she's out of options, Granu’s best friend, a philandering playboy, devises the perfect solution: a heist! To successfully rob The Covered Bridge, the most powerful and heavily-guarded company in the city, they’ll need three things: tactical thinking, impenetrable sun protection, and gallons of grog.
Granu enlists an old college buddy, a do-gooder desperate to prove his trollhood, and becomes an unlikely criminal mastermind. To round out the crew, she takes on a femme fatale with a talent for manipulation and a computer guru with a talent for getting under Granu’s skin. With meticulous planning, Granu may be able to keep them all out of the sun long enough to become filthy rich, and never have to work again.
There’s just one thing she doesn’t count on: those damn meddling billy goats.
First 250 words:
Granu bent to scoop up the shivering rat taking cover beneath the mahogany table of the low-lit cavern tavern. The rodent, the latest victim of Critterhole freed by a bad toss, was attempting to escape inevitable impalement on the spike within the game’s brightly painted wooden platforms.
Not wanting to ruin the entertainment, Granu tossed the creature back to the waiting swog, a flabby porcine underling with an upturned nose and beady, wide-set eyes. He grunted in thanks, a string of snot leaking from his nostril as his tiny wings fluttered in appreciation of her attention. His black-speckled tongue darted out to clear the mucous as he arched a brow at Granu. She turned away, signaling him to return to his friends, a group of trolls and swogs jostling one another for a turn at the game. The voices of the players echoed off stark stone walls, and a persistent drip of water splashed onto the table from the cavern ceiling, adding to the ever-growing puddle on top. Granu used the back of her stubby hand to clear the puddle. A high-pitched shriek marked the death of the rat and a point for the swog’s team.
“He really said that to her? What was he thinking?” said Fillig, Granu’s old college buddy.
“Kradduk only thinks of one thing, you know that.”
Granu gazed after the swog as she continued her conversation. Snot aside, he wasn’t a bad-looking potential mate. Granu had no idea why such a tasty hunk of meat would be interested in her.
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship is:
Granu had one moment of weakness when the burdens of unemployment weighed so heavily, she needed to blow off steam. A night at Goron’s throwing back grog turned into an embarrassing one-night-stand with her creep of a neighbor, Len. Granu’s avoidance strategy fails when she decides to lead an amateur crime crew and discovers that Len is the only troll in the city with the computer skills to get the job done. She sucks it up and makes the true walk of shame—to ask for help. This is going to get ugly.
Query:
Granu needs cash fast, or she’s out on her ass. Her degree in E.T.E. (Early Trollhood Education) didn’t prepare her for the perils of dealing with raging young trolls in the throes of puberty, and when Granu’s students nearly turn her into a troll fillet, she’s left jobless and facing eviction. After falling from valedictorian to broke freeloader, Granu finds that the only work she’s qualified for is demeaning job in the tar pits. She’d sooner become the stone centerpiece of a human playground.
Just when she thinks she's out of options, Granu’s best friend, a philandering playboy, devises the perfect solution: a heist! To successfully rob The Covered Bridge, the most powerful and heavily-guarded company in the city, they’ll need three things: tactical thinking, impenetrable sun protection, and gallons of grog.
Granu enlists an old college buddy, a do-gooder desperate to prove his trollhood, and becomes an unlikely criminal mastermind. To round out the crew, she takes on a femme fatale with a talent for manipulation and a computer guru with a talent for getting under Granu’s skin. With meticulous planning, Granu may be able to keep them all out of the sun long enough to become filthy rich, and never have to work again.
There’s just one thing she doesn’t count on: those damn meddling billy goats.
First 250 words:
Granu bent to scoop up the shivering rat taking cover beneath the mahogany table of the low-lit cavern tavern. The rodent, the latest victim of Critterhole freed by a bad toss, was attempting to escape inevitable impalement on the spike within the game’s brightly painted wooden platforms.
Not wanting to ruin the entertainment, Granu tossed the creature back to the waiting swog, a flabby porcine underling with an upturned nose and beady, wide-set eyes. He grunted in thanks, a string of snot leaking from his nostril as his tiny wings fluttered in appreciation of her attention. His black-speckled tongue darted out to clear the mucous as he arched a brow at Granu. She turned away, signaling him to return to his friends, a group of trolls and swogs jostling one another for a turn at the game. The voices of the players echoed off stark stone walls, and a persistent drip of water splashed onto the table from the cavern ceiling, adding to the ever-growing puddle on top. Granu used the back of her stubby hand to clear the puddle. A high-pitched shriek marked the death of the rat and a point for the swog’s team.
“He really said that to her? What was he thinking?” said Fillig, Granu’s old college buddy.
“Kradduk only thinks of one thing, you know that.”
Granu gazed after the swog as she continued her conversation. Snot aside, he wasn’t a bad-looking potential mate. Granu had no idea why such a tasty hunk of meat would be interested in her.
NoQS Adult Women's Fiction: WOMAN ENOUGH
Title: WOMAN ENOUGHGenre: Women's FictionWord Count: 77,000
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship Is:
My character's most stressful relationship is with her mother. Angst between the two has been there since the days Becca received less than perfect scores in her gymnastics routines; her mother never praising her, but instead pushing her to do better. All Becca ever wanted was her mother’s approval, her ear, and her unconditional love. Instead, she learned from her mother she’s a selfish little bitch and comfort can be found from a bottle of whiskey. Still, Becca fears her mother’s rejection most. And who knows how she’ll react if she finds out Becca is an exotic dancer?
Query:
After too many nights of debauchery, twenty-one-year-old Rebecca is kicked off the gymnastics team, loses her scholarship, and moves back home with her parents. Desperate to eke out a living that will allow her to escape the confines of a life with an alcoholic mother, she takes a job as an exotic dancer and keeps the job and her substance abuse a secret from her family, forcing her to live a double life. Everything would be much easier if she could ignore the unlimited backroom drugs, the vile remarks from men who think a stripper is fair game for such behavior, and the awkward sexual advances she receives from strange men. And while she’s never been sure of what it means to be a woman, her dancing life is empowering, too, as she incorporates moves from her gymnastics past and loves the thrill of performing. She’s determined to use her voice to speak out against the misogyny that follows her, but spirals further into a fog of alcohol and drug abuse.
Ben, a wealthy patron of the club, charms Becca and pays for private sessions with her. While she revels in his special attention, the line between work and love blurs, and she may be falling for him. So when he proposes she leave dancing to be his professional girlfriend, she thinks this could be her way toward salvation. Then, one night, she realizes Ben isn’t who he seems, and she can either keep living the life she hadn’t planned or find the life she deserves.
First 250 words:
Rebecca’s body synchronized with the vibration from the bass in the music-filled room. Two A.M. This was her last dance of the night. A lump in her throat hard from the dry mouth effect of the ecstasy she'd swallowed earlier, she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to produce extra saliva. It had been a mistake plopping it in her mouth, aware it’d kick in while she was performing, but too late to care now. Now, the contamination coursed through her blood.
The music swallowed her whole again as she sunk into the grave deep end of the noise. She crossed her ankles tight at the top of the pole as she lowered her back into an arch, releasing her arms. It wasn’t a full arch, but the crowd loved it anyway, cheers warped and distant to her ears as she transitioned into a basic knee release and then an outside leg hang. Men nodded rhythmically to the steady beat, their hands waving cash for her to collect.
As she exited the stage, warmth from the ecstasy washed over her. Her jaw clenched, teeth chattered, and eyelids fluttered. Her brain seemed tight, if that was even possible. Shrink-wrapped. She rubbed her palm slowly up the side of her face and then down again, watching her reflection in the dressing room mirror. She looked normal but didn’t feel it.
Panic, another side effect from the pill, crept over her for a moment, and then subsided.
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship Is:
My character's most stressful relationship is with her mother. Angst between the two has been there since the days Becca received less than perfect scores in her gymnastics routines; her mother never praising her, but instead pushing her to do better. All Becca ever wanted was her mother’s approval, her ear, and her unconditional love. Instead, she learned from her mother she’s a selfish little bitch and comfort can be found from a bottle of whiskey. Still, Becca fears her mother’s rejection most. And who knows how she’ll react if she finds out Becca is an exotic dancer?
Query:
After too many nights of debauchery, twenty-one-year-old Rebecca is kicked off the gymnastics team, loses her scholarship, and moves back home with her parents. Desperate to eke out a living that will allow her to escape the confines of a life with an alcoholic mother, she takes a job as an exotic dancer and keeps the job and her substance abuse a secret from her family, forcing her to live a double life. Everything would be much easier if she could ignore the unlimited backroom drugs, the vile remarks from men who think a stripper is fair game for such behavior, and the awkward sexual advances she receives from strange men. And while she’s never been sure of what it means to be a woman, her dancing life is empowering, too, as she incorporates moves from her gymnastics past and loves the thrill of performing. She’s determined to use her voice to speak out against the misogyny that follows her, but spirals further into a fog of alcohol and drug abuse.
Ben, a wealthy patron of the club, charms Becca and pays for private sessions with her. While she revels in his special attention, the line between work and love blurs, and she may be falling for him. So when he proposes she leave dancing to be his professional girlfriend, she thinks this could be her way toward salvation. Then, one night, she realizes Ben isn’t who he seems, and she can either keep living the life she hadn’t planned or find the life she deserves.
First 250 words:
Rebecca’s body synchronized with the vibration from the bass in the music-filled room. Two A.M. This was her last dance of the night. A lump in her throat hard from the dry mouth effect of the ecstasy she'd swallowed earlier, she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to produce extra saliva. It had been a mistake plopping it in her mouth, aware it’d kick in while she was performing, but too late to care now. Now, the contamination coursed through her blood.
The music swallowed her whole again as she sunk into the grave deep end of the noise. She crossed her ankles tight at the top of the pole as she lowered her back into an arch, releasing her arms. It wasn’t a full arch, but the crowd loved it anyway, cheers warped and distant to her ears as she transitioned into a basic knee release and then an outside leg hang. Men nodded rhythmically to the steady beat, their hands waving cash for her to collect.
As she exited the stage, warmth from the ecstasy washed over her. Her jaw clenched, teeth chattered, and eyelids fluttered. Her brain seemed tight, if that was even possible. Shrink-wrapped. She rubbed her palm slowly up the side of her face and then down again, watching her reflection in the dressing room mirror. She looked normal but didn’t feel it.
Panic, another side effect from the pill, crept over her for a moment, and then subsided.
NoQS Adult Romantic Suspense: PRIME MAPLE
Title: PRIME MAPLEGenre: Adult Romantic SuspenseWord Count: 80,000
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship is:
Ecophysiologist Jen Preston’s most stressful relationship is with people. She’d rather hang with the trees. Except for Vic LaVigne. Her ex has this way of putting anyone at ease. Might be how he won the Canadian election by a landslide and was promptly named World’s Sexiest Prime Minister. Holed up in her lab, Jen’s safe from his charms. But when Vic activates Code Maple Leaf, she must cross the border to meet him in his buttery wood-paneled office on Parliament Hill, in the glow of the roaring fireplace. She just needs be professional. Keep her cool. No pressure.
Query:
American ecophysiologist Dr. Jen Preston is never, ever getting back together with her old flame, Vic LaVigne. Even if he is “The World’s Sexiest—and Most-Eligible—Prime Minister.” Because Vic is also Jen’s Most Heartbreaking Ex, The U.S.–Canadian border is a line Jen won’t cross—until her mentor is killed during a multi-million-dollar heist of Canada’s Strategic Maple Syrup Reserve.Vic calls a “Code Maple Leaf,” summoning Jen from her lab deep in the Maine woods to his office on Parliament Hill. He needs Jen—for her scientific expertise. Vic tells Jen that the maple trees are in trouble. Then he asks her (politely, of course) to continue her mentor’s research into the problem, sweetening his offer with French-Canadian kisses. He had her at Bonjour.Prime Minister Charming soon faces stiff competition. As Jen combs her mentor’s lab for clues, First Nations Mountie Kel Blacktail risks his handsome neck to save her from a campus shooter. Kel escorts Jen to a field lab deep in the heart of the Quebec sugar bush and proceeds to light her fire. When Vic arrives to transport Jen back to his safe offices, she must choose whether to risk getting burned by Vic again or hunkering down with Kel to save the trees. Either way, she might lose Vic forever. Because the shooter is circling back for Jen—and the World’s Sexiest Prime Minister.
First 250 words:
Jen’s phone convulsed in her pocket. She filled the last tube in the DNA sample tray, hung her pipette on the carousel, and snapped off one purple glove. Jamming her free hand into the pocket of her lab coat, she extracted her peripheral brain, calming it with a sure but gentle thumb, and killed the music.Multi-tasking was easy. Interruptions were annoying. Unknown callers, unpredictable.
“Dr. Jennifer Preston?”
Full name. Red flag. The mystery caller also lacked the Swedish accent of someone handing out Nobel prizes. Jen had wasted her time and glove on a telemarketer. Or someone phishing.
“Y-e-es.” Jen swiveled in her seat, winging back her aching shoulders. She arched her neck until her ponytail dangled like a loose leaf, closing her eyes against the canopy of fluorescent lights. Her chambray TOMS slid down the bottom rung of her lab stool to the speckled floor. Aaah. I can spare a moment to—
“This is Sam Singh. I’m calling for—”
Jen sat up straight. Telemarketers didn’t self-identify.
“I’ll take it from here, Sam,” interrupted a man with a voice so familiar Jen could taste it.
Vic.
Jen dropped the phone onto the black lab bench like a hot Pop-Tart and hit the speaker button.“Bonjour—Hello, Jen,” Vic said, and her heart whiplashed. He sure got a lot of mileage out of that French. And what, six million votes? Jen grimaced, then swallowed, burnt caramelized sweetness chasing bitter regret down her throat. She should have hit END CALL.
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship is:
Ecophysiologist Jen Preston’s most stressful relationship is with people. She’d rather hang with the trees. Except for Vic LaVigne. Her ex has this way of putting anyone at ease. Might be how he won the Canadian election by a landslide and was promptly named World’s Sexiest Prime Minister. Holed up in her lab, Jen’s safe from his charms. But when Vic activates Code Maple Leaf, she must cross the border to meet him in his buttery wood-paneled office on Parliament Hill, in the glow of the roaring fireplace. She just needs be professional. Keep her cool. No pressure.
Query:
American ecophysiologist Dr. Jen Preston is never, ever getting back together with her old flame, Vic LaVigne. Even if he is “The World’s Sexiest—and Most-Eligible—Prime Minister.” Because Vic is also Jen’s Most Heartbreaking Ex, The U.S.–Canadian border is a line Jen won’t cross—until her mentor is killed during a multi-million-dollar heist of Canada’s Strategic Maple Syrup Reserve.Vic calls a “Code Maple Leaf,” summoning Jen from her lab deep in the Maine woods to his office on Parliament Hill. He needs Jen—for her scientific expertise. Vic tells Jen that the maple trees are in trouble. Then he asks her (politely, of course) to continue her mentor’s research into the problem, sweetening his offer with French-Canadian kisses. He had her at Bonjour.Prime Minister Charming soon faces stiff competition. As Jen combs her mentor’s lab for clues, First Nations Mountie Kel Blacktail risks his handsome neck to save her from a campus shooter. Kel escorts Jen to a field lab deep in the heart of the Quebec sugar bush and proceeds to light her fire. When Vic arrives to transport Jen back to his safe offices, she must choose whether to risk getting burned by Vic again or hunkering down with Kel to save the trees. Either way, she might lose Vic forever. Because the shooter is circling back for Jen—and the World’s Sexiest Prime Minister.
First 250 words:
Jen’s phone convulsed in her pocket. She filled the last tube in the DNA sample tray, hung her pipette on the carousel, and snapped off one purple glove. Jamming her free hand into the pocket of her lab coat, she extracted her peripheral brain, calming it with a sure but gentle thumb, and killed the music.Multi-tasking was easy. Interruptions were annoying. Unknown callers, unpredictable.
“Dr. Jennifer Preston?”
Full name. Red flag. The mystery caller also lacked the Swedish accent of someone handing out Nobel prizes. Jen had wasted her time and glove on a telemarketer. Or someone phishing.
“Y-e-es.” Jen swiveled in her seat, winging back her aching shoulders. She arched her neck until her ponytail dangled like a loose leaf, closing her eyes against the canopy of fluorescent lights. Her chambray TOMS slid down the bottom rung of her lab stool to the speckled floor. Aaah. I can spare a moment to—
“This is Sam Singh. I’m calling for—”
Jen sat up straight. Telemarketers didn’t self-identify.
“I’ll take it from here, Sam,” interrupted a man with a voice so familiar Jen could taste it.
Vic.
Jen dropped the phone onto the black lab bench like a hot Pop-Tart and hit the speaker button.“Bonjour—Hello, Jen,” Vic said, and her heart whiplashed. He sure got a lot of mileage out of that French. And what, six million votes? Jen grimaced, then swallowed, burnt caramelized sweetness chasing bitter regret down her throat. She should have hit END CALL.
NoQS Adult Upmarket Women's Fiction: THE DEMANDS OF GRACE
Title: THE DEMANDS OF GRACE
Genre: Adult Up-Market Women’s Fiction
Word Count: 90,000
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship:
Gemma has a mind of her own. She fought her parents to be allowed to dance, met her lover in a pool hall, and is determined to win a solo in Nutcracker. Her strong character often brings her into conflict with Madame, the dance company director. Gemma acquiesces to Madame’s demands because dancers are trained to do as they are told, and ballet is her life. But keeping secrets and outguessing Madame eats at Gemma. As Madame praises then ignores, and spies on Gemma and her lover, pressure builds. Gemma even fears Madame may fire her because of her pregnancy. She’s trying to contain herself, but eventually Gemma will explode.
Query:
Gemma yearns for a solo in Nutcracker, leaping through music that seems to twirl red and gold ribbons. It is the next step in a career she has worked and fought for. But lately her arabesques have wobbled and her pirouettes gone awry.
The austere company director dangles the coveted solo, with a condition: Gemma must concentrate only on ballet and stop seeing her lover, Stefan. Desperate, Gemma agrees; she’ll meet him in secret.
Then she discovers she’s pregnant. Soon her tutu won’t fasten and Patrice, her friend and rival in the company, will dance in her place. Unbearable, but it’s 1972 and abortion is illegal. She searches frantically for an underground clinic.
When she finally confesses to Stefan, he wants to marry, have the baby, and move to New York. Gemma has performed in enough ballets to recognize a fairytale. Now she must choose which love to keep.
THE DEMANDS OF GRACE, 90,000 words, is literary women's fiction, told in three voices. It's set in Denver and Germany where I performed in my own career as a ballerina.
I studied writing at the University of Denver and the Writers Center in Maryland. Two of my short stories received awards from the New Jersey State Council for the Arts. I was the winner of a Bethesda Literary Festival Writer's contest and recently was chosen to participate in the Jenny McKean Moore workshop at George Washington University. I also review for The Washington Independent Review of Books.
First 250 words:
As Gemma waited her turn, dancers leapt one by one like jungle cats through sunshine flickering from the high windows. The ping of the piano sent a cascade of yellow, green, orange through her vision; the muffled landing thuds increased her anxiety. She edged forward in the line, inhaling music, colors blooming in her chest. After a week of mangled dancing, the need to impress Madame Bonelli was urgent.
She was next. The melody pressed her forward in a swirl of color. Shoulders down, hands soft, feet stretched, she pushed for flight, confident, worthy of a solo, but on the last leap, her foot twisted slightly, she lost control and crashed into the wall. The accompaniment stopped, colors fell into grey, silence gripped the room.
“Well, are you injured?” Madame stood in the corner by the record player, hands on hips.
Embarrassment scrubbing her cheeks, Gemma shook her head, pinned in place by the stares of the company.
Madame clapped her hands. “Reverence, please.”
Dancers of the Rocky Mountain Ballet stepped into lines, the studio filled with lavender music, and Gemma joined in the traditional final bows, trying not to cry. That was that.
After class Gemma waved away her roommates; their hugs and words would break the shell she was pulling up between her failure and her yearning. Other company members, disinterested, maybe even scornful, picked up their bags, wrapped towels around their necks, and quit the room.
The long mirrors, which swallowed personalities and left only bodies, were slashed with sun.
Genre: Adult Up-Market Women’s Fiction
Word Count: 90,000
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship:
Gemma has a mind of her own. She fought her parents to be allowed to dance, met her lover in a pool hall, and is determined to win a solo in Nutcracker. Her strong character often brings her into conflict with Madame, the dance company director. Gemma acquiesces to Madame’s demands because dancers are trained to do as they are told, and ballet is her life. But keeping secrets and outguessing Madame eats at Gemma. As Madame praises then ignores, and spies on Gemma and her lover, pressure builds. Gemma even fears Madame may fire her because of her pregnancy. She’s trying to contain herself, but eventually Gemma will explode.
Query:
Gemma yearns for a solo in Nutcracker, leaping through music that seems to twirl red and gold ribbons. It is the next step in a career she has worked and fought for. But lately her arabesques have wobbled and her pirouettes gone awry.
The austere company director dangles the coveted solo, with a condition: Gemma must concentrate only on ballet and stop seeing her lover, Stefan. Desperate, Gemma agrees; she’ll meet him in secret.
Then she discovers she’s pregnant. Soon her tutu won’t fasten and Patrice, her friend and rival in the company, will dance in her place. Unbearable, but it’s 1972 and abortion is illegal. She searches frantically for an underground clinic.
When she finally confesses to Stefan, he wants to marry, have the baby, and move to New York. Gemma has performed in enough ballets to recognize a fairytale. Now she must choose which love to keep.
THE DEMANDS OF GRACE, 90,000 words, is literary women's fiction, told in three voices. It's set in Denver and Germany where I performed in my own career as a ballerina.
I studied writing at the University of Denver and the Writers Center in Maryland. Two of my short stories received awards from the New Jersey State Council for the Arts. I was the winner of a Bethesda Literary Festival Writer's contest and recently was chosen to participate in the Jenny McKean Moore workshop at George Washington University. I also review for The Washington Independent Review of Books.
First 250 words:
As Gemma waited her turn, dancers leapt one by one like jungle cats through sunshine flickering from the high windows. The ping of the piano sent a cascade of yellow, green, orange through her vision; the muffled landing thuds increased her anxiety. She edged forward in the line, inhaling music, colors blooming in her chest. After a week of mangled dancing, the need to impress Madame Bonelli was urgent.
She was next. The melody pressed her forward in a swirl of color. Shoulders down, hands soft, feet stretched, she pushed for flight, confident, worthy of a solo, but on the last leap, her foot twisted slightly, she lost control and crashed into the wall. The accompaniment stopped, colors fell into grey, silence gripped the room.
“Well, are you injured?” Madame stood in the corner by the record player, hands on hips.
Embarrassment scrubbing her cheeks, Gemma shook her head, pinned in place by the stares of the company.
Madame clapped her hands. “Reverence, please.”
Dancers of the Rocky Mountain Ballet stepped into lines, the studio filled with lavender music, and Gemma joined in the traditional final bows, trying not to cry. That was that.
After class Gemma waved away her roommates; their hugs and words would break the shell she was pulling up between her failure and her yearning. Other company members, disinterested, maybe even scornful, picked up their bags, wrapped towels around their necks, and quit the room.
The long mirrors, which swallowed personalities and left only bodies, were slashed with sun.
NoQS YA Mystery: THROWAWAY GIRL
Title: Throwaway GirlGenre: YA Contemporary MysteryWord Count: 75,000
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship is:
Anna may be a star in the pool, but at home she’s worthless in her mother’s eyes, unless she’s washing her clothes or preparing her meals. Anna hates her role in the Patterson Hotel, her cynical name for the house she lives in— if sleeping in the attic and writing poetry is living. But a win at States’ would change her life. She’d only have four more months of her mother’s crap. Anna just needs to hold her breath, stay focused, and float under her mother’s radar. But then, she threatens to pull Anna from the swim team.
Query:
When seventeen-year-old star swimmer, Anna Patterson, dives into an ominous situation to help a homeless teen mother, her own tormented life twists into chaos. Suddenly, the State championship and her escape from ‘the mother from hell’ fade in importance as she’s plunged into the underworld of human organ traffickers and murder.
The girl’s baby is left at Anna’s doorstep and she's got seventy-two hours to find her before he’s lost in the foster system. She seeks help from the one person she never wanted to see again: Jersey Jayde, a badass girl who labeled her Freak Girl, because of her extra finger. Jersey is a savvy veteran of life on the street and the only one Anna can turn to for help—unless you count the mysterious Blaze Worth, six feet of swoon in black leather, who rides a fire-breathing motorcycle and holds the key to Anna’s true identity.
She teams with both of them to find the girl and take down the killers. But though Anna is a champion in the pool, she’s a neophyte on the street. Drugged and abducted, she must use quick-thinking and athletic prowess to battle the leader of the organ traffickers to save her friends and herself. When the gun goes off, Anna swims faster than she’s ever swum before, because this time it’s not a competition and the prize isn’t a coveted scholarship. It’s the race for her life.
First 250 words:
Snowflakes fell cold and wet on Anna’s cheeks as she walked home from swim practice. Her boots crunched the brittle ice and though the cold bit her nose, she stopped to enjoy the white silence before the explosion of ultimatums waiting for her at home. That’s when she heard it— a baby’s cry.
She peered over the Laurel River Bridge.
A girl, cradling a baby in her tattered jacket, crouched against the stone pillars.
“Are you okay?” Anna yelled.
The girl looked up, but Anna couldn’t tell from her wide eyes if she was surprised or scared.
A lock of damp hair slipped from Anna’s hat as she eased down the snowy riverbank. “Do you need help?”
Face-to-face, the girl was a little younger than her, maybe fifteen.
A dented grill sat in a cleared circle on the beach and clothes-filled plastic bags lined the perimeter of a canvas tent pitched under the bridge.
Anna glanced around for something more substantial. “Your baby sounds hungry.” She rummaged to the bottom of her backpack. “Sorry. This is all I have.”
“Thank you. God bless.” The girl stared at Anna’s extra pinky as she chewed the energy bar.
Anna tugged the sleeve of her coat to hide her left hand. It ended an inch above her wrist. Time for a new one. Besides, they needed it more. “Here, keep your baby warm.”
“What’ll you do without it?”
“I don’t have far to go. I won’t freeze to death.” But the wind’s arctic bite already penetrated her sweater.
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship is:
Anna may be a star in the pool, but at home she’s worthless in her mother’s eyes, unless she’s washing her clothes or preparing her meals. Anna hates her role in the Patterson Hotel, her cynical name for the house she lives in— if sleeping in the attic and writing poetry is living. But a win at States’ would change her life. She’d only have four more months of her mother’s crap. Anna just needs to hold her breath, stay focused, and float under her mother’s radar. But then, she threatens to pull Anna from the swim team.
Query:
When seventeen-year-old star swimmer, Anna Patterson, dives into an ominous situation to help a homeless teen mother, her own tormented life twists into chaos. Suddenly, the State championship and her escape from ‘the mother from hell’ fade in importance as she’s plunged into the underworld of human organ traffickers and murder.
The girl’s baby is left at Anna’s doorstep and she's got seventy-two hours to find her before he’s lost in the foster system. She seeks help from the one person she never wanted to see again: Jersey Jayde, a badass girl who labeled her Freak Girl, because of her extra finger. Jersey is a savvy veteran of life on the street and the only one Anna can turn to for help—unless you count the mysterious Blaze Worth, six feet of swoon in black leather, who rides a fire-breathing motorcycle and holds the key to Anna’s true identity.
She teams with both of them to find the girl and take down the killers. But though Anna is a champion in the pool, she’s a neophyte on the street. Drugged and abducted, she must use quick-thinking and athletic prowess to battle the leader of the organ traffickers to save her friends and herself. When the gun goes off, Anna swims faster than she’s ever swum before, because this time it’s not a competition and the prize isn’t a coveted scholarship. It’s the race for her life.
First 250 words:
Snowflakes fell cold and wet on Anna’s cheeks as she walked home from swim practice. Her boots crunched the brittle ice and though the cold bit her nose, she stopped to enjoy the white silence before the explosion of ultimatums waiting for her at home. That’s when she heard it— a baby’s cry.
She peered over the Laurel River Bridge.
A girl, cradling a baby in her tattered jacket, crouched against the stone pillars.
“Are you okay?” Anna yelled.
The girl looked up, but Anna couldn’t tell from her wide eyes if she was surprised or scared.
A lock of damp hair slipped from Anna’s hat as she eased down the snowy riverbank. “Do you need help?”
Face-to-face, the girl was a little younger than her, maybe fifteen.
A dented grill sat in a cleared circle on the beach and clothes-filled plastic bags lined the perimeter of a canvas tent pitched under the bridge.
Anna glanced around for something more substantial. “Your baby sounds hungry.” She rummaged to the bottom of her backpack. “Sorry. This is all I have.”
“Thank you. God bless.” The girl stared at Anna’s extra pinky as she chewed the energy bar.
Anna tugged the sleeve of her coat to hide her left hand. It ended an inch above her wrist. Time for a new one. Besides, they needed it more. “Here, keep your baby warm.”
“What’ll you do without it?”
“I don’t have far to go. I won’t freeze to death.” But the wind’s arctic bite already penetrated her sweater.
