The Glass Mermaid by Poppy Lawless

From Goodreads:
Kate 
I'm the last mermaid. I'm back on shores of Lake Erie, but the cold waters are silent. There is nothing here for me but ghosts and the beach glass that litters the rocky shore. Long ago, I lived below the waves. Now, I am the sole survivor, and at long last, my mermaid glamour is leaving me. Every day, I walk the beach. Every day, I wonder what happened to my people. The little pieces of colored glass that wash ashore give me simple pleasure. They are gifts from the lake, reminders of home. I fashion them into trinkets: necklaces, earrings, bracelets. They are beautiful things. The humans seem love them. Every day, I walk the beach. Nothing ever changes, until the day he says hello. 

Cooper 
I'm dying. It's not a question, it's a fact. The cancer is eating me alive. They told me I have six months to live, maybe less. I came home, back to Chancellor on Lake Erie, to die. The sunsets are vivid there, and I will relish every one. I've never seen anything more beautiful than a Lake Erie sunset until I see her. All life is as fragile as glass. What would you sacrifice to save the one you love?



My Thoughts:
This is a sweet, feel-good story. I played it on audio book while cleaning, and the shorter length of the novella really helped pass the time. In the town of Chancellor, old myths and legends still exist, hidden away. This story follows Kate, the last mermaid of Lake Erie, as she comes to terms with how long she has outlived her kind and her dealing with her grief to do with her part in their demise.
Cooper returns home to live the last of his life in his childhood home, but when he meets Kate, he finds a reason to fight.
I love how each character strengthened and uplifted the other, even when they didn't know the pain the other was going through. I very much enjoyed this book.

Book Blitz: Happy Endings Book Club Boxed Set Books 1-3 by Kylie Gilmore

Happy Endings Book Club Boxed Set Books 1-3
Kylie Gilmore
Publication date: January 10th 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Book 1: Hidden Hollywood
She’s on top…
When superstar actress Claire Jordan researched her role for the Fierce Trilogy movies, she never expected the bond she feels with the author and her romance book club aka The Happy Endings Book Club. Soon Claire finds herself confessing her secret longing for a regular guy—no more egocentric wealthy players—and the book club is all too ready to help. In disguise as a regular girl, she’s all set for a date with book-club-approved Josh Campbell.
He’s on top…
Billionaire tech CEO Jake Campbell is weary of gold-digging women, especially the glamorous superficial types. So when his identical twin, Josh, calls in a favor, asking Jake to step in as him on a date, Jake figures one of Josh’s cute girl-next-door types might be just what he needs. One night of passion with the sweet girl next door leaves Jake wanting more, except she seems to have vanished.
Sometimes a Happy Ending is just the beginning.

Book 2: Inviting Trouble
Madison Campbell has worshipped her older brother’s best friend, Parker Shaw, for as long as she can remember. So the night before he leaves for the Air Force, she decides he’s leaving town with her virginity. All she has to do is transform her tomboy self into a sexy woman with a bit of borrowed makeup and some creative fashion choices. The results? One drunken kiss that Park doesn’t even remember.
Ten years later, no man has ever gotten close to her heart the way Park did. And now that he’s back, the very unfeminine Madison refuses to blow her second chance. But when her bold attempts to snag his attention (“Oops! Dropped my towel.”) fail miserably, she does something completely insane—she caves to a makeover from the meddling matchmaker in charge of The Happy Endings Book Club. Hey, Park, you want some of this? Madison is about to find out.

Book 3: So Revealing
The last thing Charlotte Vega needs is a cocky HOT stuntman like Ty Campbell in her life. But when he pulls the ultimate stunt—a sexy romantic gesture that ends with a charming invitation to a sunset dinner cruise—she finds him impossible to resist. Cue disaster.
Their rocky first date goes from bad to worse when his yacht (okay, it’s actually borrowed) gets stranded in deep mud. Turns out there’s nothing Ty can do but wait hours and hours for high tide with no power, no way to cook dinner, and a hangry sexy-as-hell woman.
But Ty is determined to salvage the date so he starts a game to pass the time. Only what Ty learns makes him realize he may have just botched a date with the perfect woman. How will he ever win her now?

The Happy Endings Book Club series continues with Book 4, Formal Arrangement, plus more!

Happy Endings Book Club Series
Book 1: Hidden Hollywood
Book 2: Inviting Trouble
Book 3: So Revealing
Book 4: Formal Arrangement
Book 5: Bad Boy Done Wrong
Book 6: Mess With Me
Book 7: Resisting Fate

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99¢ for a limited time only!

—

EXCERPT:

Hidden Hollywood Excerpt
© 2016 Kylie Gilmore
Claire bit her lower lip. “Dammit. This is why I can’t have real relationships. I can’t trust anyone.”
“You can trust me.”
She sighed. “I don’t even know you.”
“Get to know me.”
“Jake…” She looked away.
“One date, the real deal. Jake and Claire.”
She was tempted. He could tell. She didn’t give him a no right away and now she was searching his face, looking for the truth. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, coaxing. He pulled back and met her eyes, fully prepared to do this all night if he had to. Coaxing, charming, easing his way in. He’d thought coaxing would be too difficult with the way he wanted her, but having her pull away was much harder.
She spoke quietly. “You don’t want that kind of spotlight on you. It’s not pretty.”
It wasn’t a no.
“I want you, and whatever comes with it, I don’t care.” He cradled her face with both hands. “I want Claire.”
She closed her eyes, and he dropped his hands to her shoulders, sliding them down the satiny smooth skin of her arms to her hands. He took her hands from behind her and pulled them forward, just holding them. She didn’t pull away. He sensed she was leaning toward letting him in.
Finally she spoke, the words filling him with elation. “We’d have to keep it quiet.”
Not that he wanted to keep it quiet. He just wanted to be with her so much he was willing to play the game her way. For now. He kissed her softly and spoke against her lips. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” She shoved him away. “Now stop kissing me. One date. Jake and Claire.”
“Why do I have to stop kissing you?”
“Because you want to get to know me, remember?”
“I can get to know your body first. Get reacquainted.”
She laughed. “Yeah. I’ve heard that one before.”
He figured she probably did. Everyone wanted the sexiest woman alive. He’d seen the magazine giving her that honor and her bikini body splashed everywhere. He knew that kind of attention didn’t always bring out the best in people, and he realized he had to stand out from the pack.
He stepped back and helped her off the table.
“Such a gentleman,” she teased.
“It’s all an illusion,” he replied, not bothering to hide the edge of unsatisfied lust in his voice.
“Story of my life,” she said breezily. “I’ll text Hailey to let you know when I’m free.”
“At least give me your number now that we’ve established how much you lust for me.” She laughed, and he grinned. “I’d like to stop going through other people.” He pulled his cell from his pocket, punched in the code, and handed it over.
She typed her number in while saying, “I never give this number to anyone. Only a handful of people have it on a need-to-know basis. Can you handle that kind of responsibility?”
“What do you think?” It was an honor and, hell, he’d earned it with all his restraint.
She met his eyes, fire back in hers. “I hope so. I swear I will hunt you down—”
He cut her off with a kiss. Not a gentle one. The kind that said he’d be taking what he wanted and she’d damn well like it. She sagged against him.
When he was good and ready, he broke the kiss and snagged his cell from her limp hand. “Later, Claire Jordan.”
She fought back a smile and then beamed a big one at him, stunningly beautiful in her well-kissed, hot-for-him state. “Later, Jake Campbell.”
He grinned and headed out the door. Now that was more like it.

Author Bio:
Kylie Gilmore is the USA Today bestselling author of the Clover Park series, the Clover Park STUDS series, and the brand new Happy Endings Book Club series. She writes humorous romance that makes you laugh, cry, and reach for a cold glass of water.
Kylie lives in New York with her family, two cats, and a nutso dog. When she's not writing, wrangling kids, or dutifully taking notes at writing conferences, you can find her flexing her muscles all the way to the high cabinet for her secret chocolate stash.

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Blitz: The Inheritance by Mika Lane

The Inheritance
Mika Lane
Publication date: February 6th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance

Life was good. I was tending bar, making enough to get by, paying my rent, and enjoying the occasional cocktail with my best friend gay boyfriend, Matty. And then I got the call. One of my customers had passed. The one who we nicknamed “Grandpa,” who’d watch us for hours from his seat at the bar, sucking on the same beer, never leaving a tip.
For some reason the old coot left me his estate. Huh? He looked like the last person in the world to have an “estate.” Well, did your mother ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?
And thanks to good old Grandpa, it looks like I may never have to work again.
But of course there’s a catch. There’s always a catch. I only get Grandpa’s money if I’m 25 years old (check), and married (not checked; not by a landslide). And–I only have 30 days to pull this off.
I didn’t see how I could make it happen, until four eligible bachelors waltzed into my life. Then, I had a whole different set of problems…

Goodreads / Amazon

—

SNEAK PEEKS:

God, they were both gorgeous—Nat with his preppy, chiseled looks, and Linc with his short ponytail and facial scruff—each of them bringing their own unique brand of sexy to the table. But there was something about the two of them together, as if they were feeding off one another. Their combined sensuality was way more intense than merely taking each’s lust and adding it together; it was as if two plus two equaled way more than four.

—

I wrapped my fingers in a fistful of her hair and drew her toward me, touching lips that were as delicious as I knew they’d be. I let my fingers trail down the front of her blouse, where they landed on a magnificent breast topped with a very hard nipple. Shit, if I wasn’t careful, I was going to explode right there in my pants.
Those damn pillow-soft lips seared into mine, and when my tongue sought entrance into her mouth, she whimpered like she’d not been properly kissed in a long, long time. Strangely, time both stood still and sped up as we got lost in a kiss before we pulled apart, both gasping for air as the boat rocked lightly in its slip.

Author Bio:
Writing has been a passion of Mika’s since a young age (her first book was "The Day I Ate the Milkyway"), but erotic romance is now what gives purpose to her days and nights. She lives in magical Northern California with her own handsome alpha dude, sometimes known as Mr. Mika Lane, and an evil cat named Bill. A devotee of the intelligent and beautiful, and lover of shiny things, she’s a yogi, hiker, traveler, thinker, observer, and book worm. She has been known to drink cheap champagne and has way too many shoes.
A National Reader's Choice Awards finalist, Mika always deliver a hot, sexy romp, often with imperfect characters, and a promised happily ever after (or at least happy for now).
She LOVES to hear from readers, and can be found at www.mikalane.com, and facebook.com/mikalaneauthor, when she's not dreaming up naughty tales to share.

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Cover Reveal: Promise: A Christmas Novella by Melody Winter

Promise: A Christmas Novella
Melody Winter
Publication date: December 5th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance

Charlotte Walker and Adam Middleton were childhood sweethearts until the day he and his family disappeared. All he left Charlotte was a scrappy piece of paper with a few throwaway words:
‘I’ll never forget you. I promise.’
After eight years of hoping he’d come back into her life, Charlotte can no longer bear the heartbreak of Adam’s broken promise. Retreating to a remote cabin to spend a quiet Christmas holiday alone, Charlotte is determined to push the ghost of Adam into the past and focus on moving forward with the rest of her life.
But when a bearded man knocks on the cabin door on Christmas Eve, could he hold the answer to Charlotte’s years of heartache?

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Author Bio:
Growing up, Melody Winter showed a natural ability in art, a head for maths, and a tendency to write far too long English essays. Difficult to place in the world when she graduated, she pursued a career in teaching, but eventually ended up working in finance. Melody is convinced that the methodical time she spends working with numbers fuels her desire to drift into dream worlds and write about the illusory characters in her head.
Melody lives in North Yorkshire, England, with her husband and two teenage sons. When not dealing with football, rugby, and a whole plethora of ‘boy’ activities, she will be found scribbling notes for her stories, or listening to 80’s music on her IPod.
Melody has a tendency to fall head-over-heels in love with her main characters, even when they frustrate her and refuse to act the way she wants them to. She is a romance writer at heart and loves reading and writing about anything mythological or magical, as well as exploring the gritty side of love affairs and the complexities of being in love.

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Son of a Pitch Finalist: Liked

TITLE: LIKED
Category and Genre: Adult Contemporary
Word Count: 75,000

Query:
I stared at his closed casket. An open one wasn’t an option. I killed him. My three-ton Suburban embedded his paper-thin jogger body into the concrete Jersey wall on Highway 71. They say don’t text and drive. They were right. People on social media used every opportunity to remind me daily. I’ve learned many new words. Few are kind. Most are right.

Probation, suspended license, community service, and a marathon. My lawyers sold the judge on a progressive sentence that included my middle-aged Mom-body running a local marathon dedicated to my victim. His family insisted I carry his ashes while competing in the race. If I don’t finish the race, I go to jail on a parole violation. No pressure.

I stole his running journal while apologizing to his niece about the accident. Petty theft was nothing compared to manslaughter. I already hated myself, but needed the training tips. Instead I found my soul mate.

Six months is what I have to fall out of love with a dead man, fall back in love with my husband, and find forgiveness from my family and myself.


First 250 Words:
This is my first funeral.
Glass half-full, it’s not mine.
Glass half-empty, I killed the guy nestled inside the closed casket.
Obliterated may be a better description.
But here I stand.
Thirty-six.
Two kids even Satan wouldn’t admit to fathering.
Squeezed into size fourteen pants riding so far up my ass they should have a canary to make sure the air is breathable. The sweat rolling off my body like a high-speed assembly line isn’t helping.
My hips beg for a sixteen.
Who am I kidding? Eighteen.
I should consider myself lucky that I’m not being fit for an orange prison jumpsuit.
I shimmy between two tables displaying flowered condolence baskets. The pink and white roses shield me from all the eyes entering the room. I’d hide here until the end of the wake if the smell of roses didn’t fill the back of my throat with today’s lunch.
Anything to help me vanish.
Anything to help me forget.
Even on the wrong side of thirty, this wouldn’t be the worst place in the world if I hadn’t killed the guy eternally sleeping under the closed mahogany casket.
Involuntary Vehicular Manslaughter. Court’s words. Not mine.
“Stupid woman reading a text while driving a Suburban”— would’ve been more accurate.
In my defense, the social media director at the high school should be fired for texting “lock-down” when she meant “lock-in.”
Show some responsibility people.
My husband’s high-priced attorney and progressive sentencing are the only reasons why I’m here and not in jail.
“Thanks for coming,” a raccoon-eyed young twenty-something says. I think she applied her eyeliner while driving. Bet she didn’t kill anyone while doing it.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Accounting for it All

Title: Accounting for it All
Category and Genre: Adult, Romantic Suspense
Word count: 89,000


Query:
When porn-star-turned-accountant Robin Whethers becomes the target of an IRS audit, she figures things can’t get any worse. She’s unwittingly been at the center of a vast money laundering scheme, and to top it off, she has no real accounting knowledge.
Still, somehow the audit is the least of her problems.
Hanging over her is the impending death of her terminally ill mother from whom Robin is estranged. Then there’s the accounting instructor she enlists to help her survive the audit: against her better judgement, she can’t manage to contain her blossoming feelings for him.
Oh, and the woman Robin considers to be the love of her life? She’s back in town, finally ready to try to make things work.
Robin may think she can survive her greatest challenge by learning to juggle numbers, but if she’s to ever be whole, she’ll have to juggle much more than that… before she winds up in jail, her mother passes without the two of them reconciling their differences, and the woman she loves disappears from her life for good.

First 250 Words:
Thursdays are my favorite days at Pornucopia.
For starters, it’s payday. Seconds, it’s in-house filming day, which means after a whole week of waiting I finally get to work as a talent consultant.
It really is the simplest of things that make Thursdays the best of days, and there isn’t anything more predictable than the Thursday morning safe-looting operation.
I keep quiet and enter the back office—my office, technically—and plop to my knees at the base of the filing cabinet. The bottom drawer slides out with a terrible squeak—Jerry still hasn’t lubed it up with that WD40 like he promised—and I remove the tiny, half-rusted safe from it, turning its cool steel over in my hands.
As the combination flows from my fingertips, I imagine the conversation I’ll have with Jerry once I empty the safe and round the corner from my own office and into his.
“Hey, Jer?” I’ll say.
“Yeah, Robin?”
“Only got a few thousand in the safe this week. Still want me to—?”
He’ll throw his hands up, looking all exasperated. “Always. Go. To. The. Bank. Every Thursday. No matter how much or how little is in there. Always. Go. To. The. Bank.”
I’ll repeat “always go to the bank” with him as he says it for the second time. “Right. How could I forget?”
“Never forget.”
Back in the real world where I’m kneeling in my office, the safe beeps open and I get to counting the fat stack of cash inside.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Let the Canyons Weep

Title: Let the Canyons Weep
Category and Genre: Adult Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100,000

Query:
In the 1880s Arizona Territory, Irish immigrant Adam Donovan has inherited the gift of empathy from his Celtic forebears. From an early age, Adam has been the one his large family turns to in times of emotional crisis. His deep understanding of their needs and his ability to dissect and resolve their problems have made him their hero―their rock.

His belief in the power of his gift is unchallenged until he falls in love with Jesse Travers. Deeply traumatized by abuse, Jesse needs more than the empathy that Adam has always relied upon; he solicits the help of his parents and siblings to show Jesse that real love doesn't hurt, and real family means security. But even as she begins to trust them, and to accept Adam's love for her, Jesse is stricken with recurrent nightmares and hallucinations about her abuser.

Adam's failure to overcome Jesse's fears pulls him into a quagmire of self-recrimination. His faith in his gift is destroyed, yet he must find a way to help her before he loses her to madness.

First 250 Words:
The trail split the canyon walls, walls that loomed tall and close and only gradually fell away, clearing the gloom from midday. The rider lifted his hat and drew a sleeve across his brow.
It was much too hot for April, and much too quiet. No breeze stirred the aspen leaves. No birds trilled, no squirrels scampered. Even the brook ran silently. His horse's hooves, muffled by dust, sent up gray ghosts that hung in the air for an instant, then drifted back to earth. If he didn't know better, he'd have assumed this ranch was abandoned.
The walls continued to recede until they were close to a mile apart, and the ribbon of trail wound between meadows of grass newly sprouted and already sere. Willows now hid the brook from view, and the aspens and sycamores grew thickly. But where were the cattle, the horses? Corrals or pens? It was the most desolate place he'd ever seen.
Round the edge of a cottonwood grove, a ramshackle cabin stood. And there in the shadow of its sagging porch, the rider glimpsed the barrel of a rifle pointed straight at his chest. Pulling the appaloosa up, he lifted his hands to show they were empty of anything but the reins.
A girl stepped out, an old Whitworth rifle gripped tightly in her hands. He said nothing, made no move toward the dark gun that hung low on his left hip.
“Donovan.” It was more accusation than query.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: The Savage

Title: The Savage
Category and Genre: Adult / SciFi
Word Count: 109,000

Query:
Manu Talib always does the right thing. Always. Even Manu's childhood sweetheart can’t tempt him to disobey the onerous rules of the all-powerful god Thoth. Manu achieves his wildest ambition when he prevails in a brutal set of trials and wins the right to join Thoth’s elite warriors. But when Thoth sends Manu to exterminate the savages living beyond the eastern border, Manu’s faith is set on a collision course with his conscience.

Manu is injured during the campaign and rescued by Rafiq, one of the heretics he was sent to slay. Rafiq’s kindness leads Manu to question his obedience to Thoth’s ruthless decrees. When Manu’s fellow soldiers discover them and kill Rafiq, an enraged Manu retaliates, killing one of his former comrades. Manu is sentenced to death for his crime, but escapes and stows away on Thoth’s flying chariot.

Manu’s exile leads him to a centuries-old secret: Thoth is a fraud used by an advanced society to control Manu’s people. Left with no master but his conscience, Manu refuses to accept the murderous lie on which his society depends. Even if exposing the truth means risking his own life and the survival of his civilization.

First 250 Words:
Manu fidgeted on the cart’s high bench, eager for the caravan to depart. Father climbed up beside him, graceful despite his size, and gathered the reins.
“The Old Jackal’s nearly down,” Father said, nodding at the setting sun. “We’ll be leaving soon.”
“Do you think we’ll see any Eastlings?” Manu asked. His stomach churned with excitement and fear, but he was careful to keep his voice neutral. Stoic. Like Father's.
“I pray to Thoth we don’t. The supply depot is supposed to be well away from the fighting. We’ll have a couple of Judges with us, just in case.”
“Do you think we’ll see Hanif?”
“I don’t rightly know,” Father said. His eyes tightened. “But don’t you go talking to a Judge unless he talks to you first. Even if it’s your brother.”
“I’m not a child anymore. I’ll remember.”
The carts and wagons ahead began to move. Father snapped the reins gently. Their horse snorted, but lurched into a walk. The Old Jackal sank quickly, and soon Manu’s view was limited to the swaying circle of light cast by a lamp hanging from the cart in front of them. He squinted into the gloom but could see little but Father beside him, the horse ahead, and other circles of light bobbing in front and behind like luminous islands in a dark stream.
Manu's breath misted and clouded in the cool air. He leaned back against the forage sacks filling the cart bed. Hay stalks poked through the burlap and tickled his cheeks around the edges of his keffiyeh.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: The Merged

Title: The Merged
Category and Genre: Adult Science Fiction
Word Count: 85,000


Query:
Two centuries ago, a fiery celestial orb ignited the night sky over Earth’s northern hemisphere. From it rained down a hive-mind of shapeless creates called Yuva. They took on human form with the peaceful goal of growing their numbers and then leaving without ever being discovered. But when years pass without a single Yuva birth, panic and confusion rises, and they begin to blame the humans for their demise.

Essence is a Yuva Commander. Just as she is trying to rein in her people’s sinister plans against the humans she believes to be innocent, her sister is stolen away by a covert team of government contractors. Essence risks her reputation and the lives of her enclave in a daring rescue effort, but discovers that saving her sister is impossible: the humans have developed biological weapons that render her shapeshifting inert, with higher dosages lethal to all Yuva kind.

Undeterred, Essence leads an escalating war to save her sister and ultimately her own kind, but when she uncovers a secret about the two very different peoples, she realizes they might not be enemies after all, and, for the ultimate price, humanity might actually be the savior of her kind.



First 250 Words:
In 213 years, Essence had never killed a human. The thought of ending such a delicate life brought on a crippling nausea only six weeks ago. The back of her teeth clenched, rotten acid dripped down her throat. But now, shivering against the metal plank, weaponized vapors burning her lungs, she knew one thing: death came for all.
A heavy door scratched at its hinges and rattled open. Essence startled. The jarring noise meant only one thing. Either they captured someone new, or they extracted someone old, neither would ever be seen again.
Today it was someone new. Down the concrete corridor outside her cell, soldiers dragged a woman along. The scrappy push and pull of resistance clanged in a lopsided rhythm. One of them limped. Maybe it was the captive, maybe it was one of the soldiers.
The unit stopped at an empty cell two down from hers. Aluminum batons shoved the woman in. She sobbed. Essence searched the vocals, isolating the rich timbre of the young voice. No. The new captive wasn't the one she searched for, the one that led her to this place, the one that got her caught. But the woman didn’t have to worry. In a few minutes, Essence would set her free. She’d set them all free.
Rubber soles turned on the linoleum floor, the squeak pitched high and hurt her ears. The soldiers headed out the same way they came in. But one of them didn’t follow his comrades.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: From Smokeless Fire

Title: FROM SMOKELESS FIRE
Category and Genre: Adult Fantasy
Word Count: 90,000

Query:
When Zahara floats up from a lamp in Daniel Goldstein's NYC apartment, she's a jinn with her own wish: fulfill an easy request from a modern-day sorcerer and trick him into eternal servitude.

Zahara's never been able to live up to her infamous mother's demonic expectations, and a binding magical contract that guarantees her a human thrall would be just the thing to impress her family. But newbie magician Daniel, whose Moroccan grandmother has reached out from beyond the grave to command him to raise a jinn, wants to do good—to the tune of stopping two fallen angels bent on revenge against humanity. Daniel and Zahara end up on the run in Morocco, dodging paranormal mercenaries and bumbling terrorists, while trying to foil a massacre that will rip open the barrier between the jinn and human worlds and plunge the two sides into a devastating war. As Zahara and Daniel try to keep their friends close, they end up discovering their enemies are even closer.


First 250 Words:
Coming out of the lamp was such a rush. One minute Zahara was nothing but vapor, swirling in the icy storms of the last level of hell. The next, she streamed out into the mundane air of the human sphere. Her flesh solidified into a floating upper torso, while her lower body remained only a tail of black flames licking up around the brass vessel used for the summoning.

And what flesh it was.

Zahara pinched back her shoulder blades and posed with her hands on her hips to better accentuate her breasts. They were huge, because she liked her first impression to be a lasting one.

The resounding crack of thunder that marked the transition into the world of man faded away. With a fanged smile, she faced the sorcerer who had dared to call her, the most notorious jinnayah this side of Baghdad.

"Behold. It is I, Zahara, Dread Spirit of the Endless Desert." She’d made that up on the spot, and it sounded great. "I have journeyed, O Child of Mud and Dirt, from the land of smokeless fire to your dreary realm. What do you call yourself, and what is it you demand of me?"

She had decided to put as much formality into her speech as possible, to further impress upon him how fortunate he was to have summoned such a powerful jinn to do his evil bidding. Not too traditional, of course, since she was speaking in flawless English, not classical Arabic.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Hanging

Title: Hanging
Category and Genre: Adult Supernatural Thriller
Word Count: 80,000


Query:
Ruth’s phobias have ruled—and ruined—her life. At twenty-four, she hasn’t slept in the dark in twenty years. In fact, she barely sleeps at all, thanks to the nightmares. After dropping out of veterinary school because of a snake, she starts a new graduate program in Water Resources Management—for no other reason than liking to swim. Although clueless as to what she really wants, she needs to finish this degree without hindrance from her fears, or she’ll never rebuild her confidence.

With three classmates, she embarks on a field trip to Lake Chevinette. En route, she learns two logging crews have vanished there in the past. The locals tell gruesome stories of men ripped apart by trees and refuse to approach the lake. Ruth no longer wants to go. But the skeptical and science-minded Barb convinces an eager-to-please Amanda to drive there while claiming it’s a different lake.

The lake has strange qualities: the water is dark, but Ruth cannot filter out particles; the plankton net reveals no life whatsoever; and an equipment cable, at least a hundred meters long, fails to reach the bottom, then gets caught and is lost. Amanda sees smoke-shaped creatures gliding over the surface and thinks they are ghosts. She falls into the water. Ruth and Barb get Amanda back in the canoe, but she vanishes when back on shore. With no cell-phone signal, they cannot call for help. Learning she is at Lake Chevinette, Ruth doubts help would even come. Could the locals’ stories be true? Moreover, the tall grass surrounding the lake may hold snakes, and the sun progressively drops in the horizon. Ruth must either succumb to her fears and abandon Amanda—living with the consequences—or continue to search after the darkness she dreads falls.




First 250 Words:
Madison, Wisconsin, September 25, 2015

Ruth lit a new tea light in the perforated lantern by the window. A beacon in the darkness of her studio apartment once she killed the other lights, the candle would project stars onto the wall and last a few hours. She never slept longer than that—the nightmares wouldn’t let her—and she hadn’t slept in the dark in twenty years, since she was four.

She changed into an old nightgown, its seams thick from the many times she had stitched them. Yet she couldn’t persuade herself to discard her thirteen-year-old birthday gift from her grandma. In the bathroom, she fetched her retainer, rinsed it in the sink and slid it over her upper teeth. She hated wearing it, but the pain in her jaws and temples in the morning would be worse if she didn’t.

Ruth powered on the nightstand lamp and lay on her stomach on the open futon. With the laptop in front of her, she copied the words “Lake Chevinette” from Barb’s email and pasted them into the search box. Would the images be as breathtaking as those from Sparkling Lake?

But she found no images. In fact, the resulting links all seemed irrelevant. How come? The text at the top of the page added to her disappointment: “Did you mean: Lake Chevrolet.”

The only Chevrolet she knew was the car. Did a Lake Chevrolet actually exist? Had Barb misspelled the name of the lake in her email? Or was there a more serious reason for the lack of results?

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Salvation

Title: Salvation
Category and Genre: Adult, Suspense/Thriller (Psych.)
Word Count: 75,000

Query:
Small town journalist Tom Coster is chasing a story 30 years in the making. The story: The untold events that went on behind the doors of now-shuttered Salvation Home for Wayward Children. Tom, however, has a hidden motive behind the article he wants to print. He hope the story draws out his cousin, Dianna Lane, who disappeared from the troubled teen home those 30 long years ago, or the man he suspects kidnapped her; The former owner of the compound, Marcus Taylor, who went off the grid around the same time.

The further Tom digs the more attention he gains, and from those who would rather Salvation Home’s past remain there. Whether it’s phoned threats, arson, or attempted murder, it becomes clear to Tom just how far these people will be willing to go to keep the public-at-large from finding out the horrific history of Salvation Home. He must decide if he is willing to sacrifice everything knowing this, even his life, in order to expose the past, bring justice to its survivors, and bring his cousin home.

First 250 Words:
At first, the icy steel floor was a welcome reprieve. Then her bleeding welts began to scream.
“Esther, get off th’ floor,” the man standing over her demanded. “Y’ain’t gon’ bleed t’ death. B’sides, y’got ten mo’ah swat comin’.”
She looked up at him, taking in the terrifying image of him. The man’s beige button-down and undershirt soaked was soaked in sweat, and dotted with small spots of her blood from the beatings. It, mixed with the unemptied pail she used as a makeshift toilet, filled the room with the horrific scent of damnation. Marcus, his face pale, had a look as cold as the floor and as clear of remorse to bore a hefty void into her soul.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling, almost a whine. “please…Brother M-Marcus…no more…”
“Shut it, girl.” Marcus growled, combing his fingers through his once-cropped hair. “Assume th’ position, an’ repeat Proverbs 23:13.” “Esther” did as told, taking her skirt up and over her buttocks while trying to keep her legs from collapsing beneath her as she bent over ever so slightly.
“W-withhold not c-cor–agh!” she screamed as the cane came down on one of her already open wounds. The wood, jagged and tattered from years use, cut into the back of her legs. One more swipe, and she doubled over, doing her best not to vomit from the pain.
“Don’ you get sick all ovah, child,” Marcus growled, his voice more fierce than before. “Eight mo’ah, then we git you all nice an’ cleaned up.” He chuckled, sending shivers down her spine.
But “Esther” couldn’t manage it. Her body wouldn’t obey.

Sn of a Pitch Finalist: Scrapetown

Title: Scrapetown
Category and Genre: Adult Horror
Word Count: 82,000

Query:
Clare Monroe sees ghosts in reflections: half-sentient “scrapes” on reality. At least they’re harmless, so Clare can focus on managing her anxiety and her quicksand feelings for her (straight) best friend. Then Clare meets bayou warlock Remy Leignon the same day a friend turns up without his spine.

Remy's alibi for the murder rings true, but so does his warning: Scrapes can hurt people… if someone shows them how.

A necromancer stalks Atlanta, able to manifest scrapes and bend them to his will. Clare soon suspects he knows about her hidden gift, her unrealized potential—and with his eyes (living and dead) fixed on her, Clare sees no choice but to embrace her own dangerous capacity for necromancy.

Remy proves a valuable ally as Clare explores the true scope of her power—but even with his help, severing scrapes from their free will has a way of twisting up the soul… and as Clare and Remy race to trap the necromancer before he kills again, the line between survival and ambition begins to blur.

250 Words:
The dead thing in her closet mirror whispered low and cigarette-rough.
Whiskey swimming in her head and floaters in her eyes, Clare Monroe tried not to notice.
From the living room, springs squealed as her best friend shifted on the couch. Then Isobel gave a sigh that cut right through the closed door between them, the same gusty, sated noise she probably made right after—
Clare shut her eyes. Not helping.
A siren wailed out towards Emory University. More sly grumbles from the closet, the ghostly voice catching on her cotton sheets like fingernails on skin. Don’t think about it. Attention gave scrapes power.
Don’t think—
Too late.
Clare rolled over and stared at her closet. A slurry of Spanish crept across her mattress, welling up around her naked calves.
Unsteady footsteps and a rusty hinge marked Isobel’s journey to the bathroom; the shower turned on. Clare honed in on the dead thing’s voice so she wouldn’t listen for the soft flump of clothes hitting tile, wouldn’t imagine Isobel stepping into the spray.
“No puedo respirar, no puedo…”
“Go away,” Clare whispered.
Her closet door shone dully despite the lack of moonlight. (No light at all, nothing that could turn innocent glass or metal into a reflective surface where a scrape might creep.) Inside that closet, underneath the towel tacked over the mirror, the thing that had once been a stroke victim named Luis Delgado let out a wet and gravely sigh.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Death of a Bachelor

Title: Death of a Bachelor
Category and Genre: Adult, Gay Romance
Word count: 81,000


Query:
When snooty professor Cathal Kinnery meets blue-collar cook Damon Eglamore, they hate each other immediately. So it's not hard to imagine Cathal's horror when Damon marries his best friend. When Damon's wife dies, however, things only get worse for Cathal: not only is he losing his best friend, but her final wish is that he stay with Damon and make sure he makes it through his mourning.

Cathal has no intention of getting involved in Damon's life. After his parents disowned him for being gay, Cathal thought he knew everything needed to about families. That is, until spending time with Damon and his son makes Cathal notice just how lonely he's been all this time. Cathal can't figure out how to tell Damon that without sacrificing his pride, and that's not an option.

Damon Eglamore assumed becoming a widower was the worst thing that could ever happen to him, but his problems run deeper than loss. As Damon tries to pick up the pieces of his life, he realizes he doesn't know who he is without his wife. Cathal is the last person Damon would ever think to ask for help, since they can't speak two words to each other without getting into a shouting match.

Only Cathal's not shouting at him. Cathal's encouraging him to try new things and get involved in his son's life. Damon wants to tell Cathal he's grateful, but he can't figure out how.

It'll take a cross-dressing Shakespeare production, a baking competition complete with concussions and a five-foot-tall T-rex cake, and Damon's own son coming out to make the two men stop yelling long enough to really talk to each other. But even then, they might not be able to see beyond the past and realize just how good they could be together.


First 250 Words:
The man sitting at the end of the bar was older than Damon, maybe twenty-four. He had a thin, foxlike face and long, dark hair that he twirled around a finger as he wrote on a napkin. A martini sat untouched in front of him, and his eyes were lost in thought. Definitely gay, but he wasn’t… intimidating. Unlike every other man who wasn’t already on the dance floor or making out with someone else.
Damon sat down next to him and gestured to the bartender for a beer. He was already a little drunk, but if he wanted to relax, he’d have to get a lot drunk. The other patron continued writing what looked like a math problem. He finished his equation, considered it, and then scribbled the whole thing out, his brow furrowed. Scowling, he drank the martini at one go. Only then did he glance in Damon’s direction. “Fuck off,” he said, biting the olive from the swizzle stick. “I’m not looking for company tonight. I came here to get drunk.”
Damon colored, but he kept the embarrassment from his voice. “Why’d you think I came here for anything different?”
“There’s plenty of room, but you sat by me.” He looked at Damon, taking him all in, and his eyes narrowed further. The scowl fit his face too well, and Damon didn’t appreciate his scrutiny. “And guys like you don’t come here for the conversation.”

Son of a Pitch Entry: Liked

TITLE: LIKED
Category and Genre: Adult Contemporary
Word Count: 75,000

Query:
I killed him. My three-ton Range Rover embedded his paper-thin jogger body into the concrete Jersey wall on Highway 71. I stared at his closed casket. An open one wasn’t an option. They say don’t text and drive. They were right. People on social media used every opportunity to remind me daily. I’ve learned many new words. Few are kind.

Probation, suspended license, community service, and a marathon. My lawyers sold the judge on a progressive sentence that included my out-of-shape middle-aged body running a local marathon dedicated to my victim. His family insisted I carry his ashes while competing in the race. If I don’t finish the race, I go to jail on a parole violation. No pressure.

I stole his running journal while apologizing to his niece about the accident. Petty theft was nothing compared to manslaughter. I wanted tips on running, not to find my soul mate.

Six months is all I have to fall out of love with a dead man, fall back in love with my husband, and get my body into shape so I can run a marathon and quiet the mean girls on social media who I once thought of as friends.


First 250 Words:
This is my first funeral.
Glass half-full, it’s not mine.
Glass half-empty, I killed the guy nestled inside the closed casket.
Obliterated may be a better description than killed.
But here I stand.
Thirty-six.
Two kids even Satan wouldn’t admit to fathering.
Squeezed into size twelve skinny pants riding so far up my ass they should have a canary to make sure the air is breathable. The sweat rolling off my body like a high-speed assembly line isn’t helping.
My hips beg for a fourteen.
Who am I kidding? Sixteen.
Who has their wake catered in the funeral home? Judging by the size of this spread, these pants are probably going to burst before I leave. With any luck, someone’s gonna stroll through those doors wearing sweat pants ready to tackle the giant seafood platter. I can only hope.
Anything to help me vanish.
I shimmy between two tables displaying flowered condolence baskets. The pink and white roses shield me from all the eyes entering the room. I’d hide here until the end of the wake if the smell of roses didn’t fill the back of my throat with the shrimp cocktail already testing my 12s.
Even on the wrong side of thirty, this wouldn’t be the worst place in the world if I hadn’t killed the guy eternally sleeping under the closed mahogany casket.
Involuntary Vehicular Manslaughter. Court’s words. Not mine.
“Stupid woman reading a text while driving a Range Rover”— would’ve been more accurate.

Son of a Pitch Success Story: Mark Engels

Success story and how Son of a Pitch helped me get there!
At an early age, trains became my focus to the exclusion of everything else. I wanted to know everything about them, be around them, planned to work with them when I grew up. In my teens I came to feel likewise about anime, manga and anthropomorphics. My fellow otaku and I played table-top roleplaying games throughout university where I studied computer technology and electronics. After earning my bachelor's, I got married, chose railroading as my career, started a family.

Decades later working night shift testing signal systems on a rail transit job site, my book's main character showed up, slashing away at my subconscious. I tossed and turned all day long at the hotel trying to ignore her. But Pawly, a werecat, makes a very convincing argument with fangs and claws. She wanted out of my head! Weeks later, I caved and began writing. By the end of that month, I had a series outline. A year later, I had a draft manuscript. And a year after that, I had a polished draft thanks to my prereaders and suggestions from several writing and editing books I’d read.

That’s when I began researching markets heavily. I learned what pitch parties were, how to write (and revise!) a query letter and what markets were (and were decidedly not) worth presenting my book to. I got to know Katie and learned about SoaP over the course of several pitch parties and decided to give it a try. My query was selected and the SoaP reviewers, Elizabeth Roderick chief among them, pointed out things I ought consider to make my query more accessible and gripping. I once again revised my query and sent out a round, this time landing me some requests. After one offer came in (much to my surprise!) I let all the others considering my book know per industry practice. That motivated another publisher to offer, Thurston Howl Publications, and I signed with them. After many months on the query/pitch/submit trail, I would wait just under a year (in which we did, you guessed it, more editing!) for them to release my debut novel.

My series outline, detailing travails of three generations of Pawly's family from the height of the Cold War to the present day, suggests I'll need two more books to tell their stories. Maybe three? The same obsession drives me--share Pawly's tale with the world. She deserves to have it told. When I finish in the next couple of years, I'll gladly go on with life and obsess over something else. I'll have accomplished what I set out to do. And I'll encourage my son to do the same.

Blurb:

The modern day remnant of an ancient clan of werecats is torn apart by militaries on three continents vying to exploit their deadly talents. Born in an ethnic Chicago neighborhood following her family's escape from Cold War-era Poland, were-lynx Pawly flees underground to protect her loved ones after genetically-enhanced soldiers led by rogue scientist and rival werecat Mawro overrun her Navy unit in the Gulf of Oman. Pawly's family seeks her out in a desperate gambit to return their ancestral homeland and reconcile with their estranged kinsmen. But when her human lover arrives to thwart Mawro's plan to weaponize their feral bloodlust, Pawly must face a daunting choice: preserve her family secrets and risk her lover's life or chance her true nature driving him away forever.






Bio:
Boyhood interests in trains and electronics fostered Mark's career as an electrical engineer, designing and commissioning signal and communications systems for railroads and rail transit agencies across the United States. Along the way Mark indulged his writing desire by authoring articles for rail and transit industry trade magazines. Coupled with Mark's long-time membership in anime, manga and anthropomorphic fandoms, he took up writing genre fiction. Growing up in Michigan, never far from his beloved Great Lakes, Mark and his wife today make their home in Wisconsin with their son and a dog who naps beside him as he writes.

Mark is a member of Allied Authors of Wisconsin, one of the state's oldest writing collectives. He also belongs to the Furry Writer’s Guild, dedicated to supporting, informing, elevating, and promoting quality anthropomorphic fiction and its creators.

Author web site (includes social media links, message box, and email list opt-in)
https://www.mark-engels.com/

Amazon “buy” link
https://www.amazon.com/Always-Gray-Winter/dp/1945247193/

Goodreads review page
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36008025-always-gray-in-winter

Son of a Pitch Entry: The Social Season

****Only editors/agents and the writer of the entry can comment on this post.

Title: The Social Season

Category and Genre: Adult Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 110,000

Query:

The forty-fourth Social Season isn’t optional for Natalie James. She’s being forced to participate, a stipulation from her trial for treason back when she was a child.

Desperate, Natalie must try to use the system to her advantage. Her plan is to go unnoticed through the various events, meant to showcase the qualities that would make her a good wife, mistress, or servant to a member of the elite.

If she succeeds, she’ll be able to marry her best friend, a man who won’t control her and will help her take down the tyrannical government controlling their lives.

There’s just one problem. While searching for weaknesses in the government, she’s caught trespassing by one of the most powerful men in the city: Nicholas Olsen, future lord of Dolfian.

Under orders from his father to find a wife, Nicholas is simply uninterested in the boring, obedient women offered through the Season. 

When he catches Natalie, however, Nicholas finds himself intrigued. And he’s determined to make her his wife, a task that will please both his family and his city.

Most girls in the Season would be delighted by his proclamation. But Natalie isn’t most girls, and she has no plans to let Nicholas Olsen take over her life and mark her as his legal property.

When Nicholas bends the rules of the Season to go after what he so desperately wants, Natalie must use every tool at her disposal to remain free from his control.

Told in alternating points of view, THE SOCIAL SEASON is a work of speculative fiction complete at 110,000 words.

First 250 words: 

I was pacing in my father’s office, searching for an escape route from this horrid conversation. He’d doubtless spent many hours crafting this particular speech. It had been lingering at the edge of our meetings for months now. My hands clenched into fists.

The wood floor creaked as I made another turn. I tuned it out, focusing instead on my father’s words. “Son, it’s time for you to choose. I’m not saying it has to be this season. I’ll give you…let’s say…three seasons. But you will attend each one until you’ve claimed a mate. Do you understand?”

He was just barely speaking, his voice a bit louder than a whisper. He didn’t need to yell. I’d spent enough time with him to know when to argue. But I’d no interest in a wife; I didn’t need a woman following me around, groveling at my feet.

“Father.” I planted my feet. He was reclining in his chair, staring up at me expectantly. He looked perfectly calm.

I swallowed heavily, trying to find a solid argument. “I’m only twenty-five. I’ve been training under you for five years now. I shadowed you for a long time before that. Don’t you think I should be able to relax for just a bit before I take on a wife? And if I’m going to be the next Lord of Dolfian, do you really think I should be distracted? Why don’t I go through a season looking for a servant or a mistr-”

I broke off quickly, seeing his eyes narrow. He dropped his hands to the desk and pushed himself upright. I forced myself to stay perfectly still, hiding my fear just like he’d taught me. I’d gone too far in my desperation. But I wouldn’t apologize.

Son of a Pitch Entry: Dylan

****Only editors/agents and the writer of the entry can comment on this post.

Title: Dylan
Category and Genre: Literary Fiction/Magical Realism
Word Count: 70K
Query: 
A FORREST GUMP meets PRACTICAL MAGIC tale.

Most everyone in the family calls Dylan “slow.” Worse, his abusive mother claims he’s wicked. He might not think fast, and it takes him awhile to form the words he wants, but Dylan has magic. He can spin marbles from oyster shells, and whip up Chicken Alfredo by tapping his thumbs together. In fact, he hopes to be a famous chef someday and put his magic to good use. Right now, the only one to appreciate his supernatural abilities is his loving uncle and caretaker, a disabled Vietnam veteran. When Uncle Jim dies, Dylan’s Aunt Agnes sells the house the two lived in, and ships Dylan off to an adult boarding home. There Dylan meets an equally gifted but troubled young lady named Liona.

With a rocky beginning, Dylan finally finds a friend in Liona whose mind-reading abilities makes it easier for him to communicate. Just when he settles into his new life a precious gift from his deceased uncle is destroyed. Despondent, Dylan flees to the beach and the oyster beds where he feels most at home, and where his magical empowerment comes from. His old Vietnamese friend, Tim Lan offers him a room in his shanty in exchange for his magically-made pearls. Dylan is tormented by the suspect requests of Tim Lan, for the old man takes his pearls to town and they mysteriously disappear. He’s muddled by his feelings for Liona for he’s never had a girlfriend before. His nightmare ensues when his drug addicted mother, who had once washed her hands of him, returns to exploit his gifts. He’s never stood up to her, and he risks losing everything he’s worked for - his relationship with Liona, with Tim Lan, and any hopes of independence - if he lets her destroy him.

250 Words:

By the time I was eighteen I didn’t care what Aunt Agnes said about me. I was happy. I had the two things that I needed most. Uncle Jim, and magic.

“He doesn’t connect the dots right,” Aunt Agnes complained to my cousin Shirley the night she drove me and Uncle Jim home from my graduation ceremony. My cousin always sat in front whenever we went anywhere. 
Shirley looked over her shoulder at me and scoffed while Aunt Agnes kept talking. “He can’t carry on a civil conversation. In fact, I don’t know if he is past the third-grade level of reading.”

I rolled my eyes. But Uncle Jim growled and then went into a coughing fit. He didn’t say anything though. How could he? He was facing the back of the van sitting in a wheel chair behind me. Once we got home, Aunt Agnes lowered the lift, and Uncle Jim steam-rolled into the house. I followed him inside with Aunt Agnes at my heels. Uncle Jim threw his baseball cap on the couch, and grumbled something fierce, maneuvering his chair through the litter in our living room. I could see a fight coming because Aunt Agnes and Uncle Jim fought a lot. Usually about me. I appreciated his support, but I didn’t like him yelling. The noise reminded me of my mother and the wicked years. I dodged into my room and waited for Aunt Agnes to leave, holding my hands over my ears until the front door slammed.

Son of a Pitch Entry: Killer's Day Off

****Only editors/agents and the writer of the entry can comment on this post.

Title:  KILLER'S DAY OFF

Category and Genre:  Adult Urban Fantasy
Word Count:  84,000

Query:

Eleven doesn’t feel like killing the President of the United States today. Every other profession gets sick days, so why not genetically-enhanced android super-assassins? Unfortunately, that’s not how his owner/creator/father-figure, Simon Cordova, sees it. A few threats, a little brainwashing, and Eleven is off to the White House.

Only when he gets there, he finds that Simon has lied to him about Eleven being the only android around. Sure, meeting this other guy doesn’t stop Eleven from killing Mr. President, but it certainly raises some questions, such as ‘Why has Simon lied to me?’ and ‘What am I?’ and ‘Why the hell am I being brainwashed?’

Except those answers need to wait, because this job didn’t end in DC. No, it followed Eleven home and found where his friends live.

Now Eleven has to protect those around him while working through a budding existential crisis. But none of that will stop him from finding answers to every one of his questions, even if it takes a few explosions, abundant violence, and at least one hostage situation to do so.

First 250:

“What?” Agent Olsen’s voice hissed through the telephone. “You’re calling out sick from assassinating the president?”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I nestled the phone between my head and shoulder while I pulled the bag of Cheetos open. Olsen probably heard it, but who cares? “I’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“Under the weather?” Static screeched over the line, the cords and tubes of the phone company cracking under the pressure of Olsen’s rage. “You’re a genetically modified android, Eleven. You can’t feel under the weather!”

“Oh, did I say I felt sick? Meant to say tired.” I kicked my shoes off into the rest of the junk comprising my man-cave apartment, then fell backwards onto the couch. “Didn’t sleep very well last night. Etcetera.”

Static hissed through the phone again before Olsen’s voice simmered down enough to be heard. “—any idea how much time and money and planning went into—“

I pulled the phone away from my ear and glared at it. I had nearly four years of perfect attendance under my belt, and they couldn’t give me even one damned vacation day? Sometimes people just weren’t up to the task of going outside and being productive—or, in my case, murdering politicians in cold blood. Today was definitely one of those off days for me.

Hopefully Agent Olsen and his boss could understand that. If not, then my status as a badass super-assassin earned me some other undeniable privileges.