SVS 5: A MURDER OF MAGIC, YA Fantasy
Title: A MURDER OF MAGICGenre: YA FantasyWord Count: 75,000
My Main Character would prefer to live in:Calla would prefer to live in the snow. If it wasn't for that grount of a human, Gher, she'd still be in her icy mountain nest with her sisters, painting the snow red as they snack on flesh and magic. The bite of cold as the crow-girls devour chewy bits of skin is a necessary flavor, and Calla looks forward to uncovering the deliciously rotted carcasses, buried beneath recent avalanches, as soon as she can slay the moon for the ghost magician and return home.
Query:
Dear Michelle Hauck and Amy Trueblood,In the kingdom of Nakai, in the eastern mountains, the villagers say the crows eat human flesh, that the crows can be human girls if they so choose, that they will speed your death if they can. The crow-girls only say human meat tastes best on human tongues.
On a day like all the others before, one crow-girl gets a little too eager to feast on a magician named Gher she finds dying in the snow. Cursed by the magician to remain in human form with a human name, Calla must stay that way until she "slays the moon." Unfortunately, Calla doesn’t know what that means, especially considering there are two moons in the sky. Gher, who returns as a ghost, cannot remember.
As Calla and Gher search for answers, they discover that the Queen is hunting magic, like crow-girls, to feed her addiction, and a skin-hunter, who trades in the flesh of creatures like Calla, is tracking their journey. Worse, in Calla’s opinion, her crow-sisters have turned their backs on her. Never mind that if Calla fails to break the magician’s curse, she will die a human, even though crow-girls. Don’t. Die.
But there may be more to being human than the stink of death and decay. Soon, Calla must reckon with the fact that she is falling for the magician's ghost, and, even more terrifying, the fact that when she finally does slay the moon, she won't be human anymore. And Calla isn't sure she likes that idea.
Full of gore, romance, and fairy-tale like elements, Calla's story is the tale of the crow-girl becoming who she is meant to be. This novel will appeal to fans of Charles de Lint, Neil Gaiman, and Laini Taylor.
First 250 words:
She flew northeast, eager to feel the wind on her feathers, which was what she told her sisters, and eager to find flesh, which is what they knew to be true. She could nearly taste the silvery sweetness of man on her tongue.
As the crow circled the mountain’s lower slopes, she saw prey: a snow-covered figure. Diving rapidly, she landed on an uprooted tree. The crow cocked her head to the left and the right, listening.
A low groan escaped the snow and the bird flew back a ways before hopping forward again. Stopping beside the figure, she pecked at it, freezing when a man flipped over. He wiped snow from his face and his bright blue eyes met the bird’s.
“Pretty bird,” he said hoarsely and then laughed, the noise scraping the air like knives. The bird preened her back feathers, so black they glinted blue from the sunlight reflecting off the snow. She knew she was pretty.
Shivering, the man cautiously sat up. Blood leaked from his right arm and he grimaced. “The poison….” He began to murmur under his breath. Little fragments of blue lightning leaked from his fingertips as the bleeding slowed.
Magic! The crow’s beak clapped excitably. Human flesh tasted better when they had magic snapping in their veins. Unfortunately, the man seemed to be getting stronger.
Yet, the man coughed up some black liquid. Was he still dying? There was only one way to know.
Her feathers shimmered and bird turned to girl, crouching naked in the snow.
My Main Character would prefer to live in:Calla would prefer to live in the snow. If it wasn't for that grount of a human, Gher, she'd still be in her icy mountain nest with her sisters, painting the snow red as they snack on flesh and magic. The bite of cold as the crow-girls devour chewy bits of skin is a necessary flavor, and Calla looks forward to uncovering the deliciously rotted carcasses, buried beneath recent avalanches, as soon as she can slay the moon for the ghost magician and return home.
Query:
Dear Michelle Hauck and Amy Trueblood,In the kingdom of Nakai, in the eastern mountains, the villagers say the crows eat human flesh, that the crows can be human girls if they so choose, that they will speed your death if they can. The crow-girls only say human meat tastes best on human tongues.
On a day like all the others before, one crow-girl gets a little too eager to feast on a magician named Gher she finds dying in the snow. Cursed by the magician to remain in human form with a human name, Calla must stay that way until she "slays the moon." Unfortunately, Calla doesn’t know what that means, especially considering there are two moons in the sky. Gher, who returns as a ghost, cannot remember.
As Calla and Gher search for answers, they discover that the Queen is hunting magic, like crow-girls, to feed her addiction, and a skin-hunter, who trades in the flesh of creatures like Calla, is tracking their journey. Worse, in Calla’s opinion, her crow-sisters have turned their backs on her. Never mind that if Calla fails to break the magician’s curse, she will die a human, even though crow-girls. Don’t. Die.
But there may be more to being human than the stink of death and decay. Soon, Calla must reckon with the fact that she is falling for the magician's ghost, and, even more terrifying, the fact that when she finally does slay the moon, she won't be human anymore. And Calla isn't sure she likes that idea.
Full of gore, romance, and fairy-tale like elements, Calla's story is the tale of the crow-girl becoming who she is meant to be. This novel will appeal to fans of Charles de Lint, Neil Gaiman, and Laini Taylor.
First 250 words:
She flew northeast, eager to feel the wind on her feathers, which was what she told her sisters, and eager to find flesh, which is what they knew to be true. She could nearly taste the silvery sweetness of man on her tongue.
As the crow circled the mountain’s lower slopes, she saw prey: a snow-covered figure. Diving rapidly, she landed on an uprooted tree. The crow cocked her head to the left and the right, listening.
A low groan escaped the snow and the bird flew back a ways before hopping forward again. Stopping beside the figure, she pecked at it, freezing when a man flipped over. He wiped snow from his face and his bright blue eyes met the bird’s.
“Pretty bird,” he said hoarsely and then laughed, the noise scraping the air like knives. The bird preened her back feathers, so black they glinted blue from the sunlight reflecting off the snow. She knew she was pretty.
Shivering, the man cautiously sat up. Blood leaked from his right arm and he grimaced. “The poison….” He began to murmur under his breath. Little fragments of blue lightning leaked from his fingertips as the bleeding slowed.
Magic! The crow’s beak clapped excitably. Human flesh tasted better when they had magic snapping in their veins. Unfortunately, the man seemed to be getting stronger.
Yet, the man coughed up some black liquid. Was he still dying? There was only one way to know.
Her feathers shimmered and bird turned to girl, crouching naked in the snow.
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