Son of a Pitch Finalist: Derek Hyde Knows Spooky When He Sees It

Title: DEREK HYDE KNOWS SPOOKY WHEN HE SEES IT
Category and Genre: MG, Paranormal
Word Count: 41,000


Query:
Derek Hyde isn’t tingling with undiluted joy that the spookiest old mansion in town is about to become the Hyde Funeral Home & Used Coffin Outlet. Especially since he has to live there with his adoptive mortician parents, Jack and Formalda.

Of course, being driven in the family hearse to his first day at middle school doesn’t exactly add whipped cream to his broccoli.

As if things couldn't get more horrific, an evil classmate named Nussbaum attacks him in the cafeteria with a plate of beef stroganoff. Seems this kid loved living in the old mansion himself, but got yanked out after accidentally blowing up his own mom and dad. With his chemistry set. Now his dead parents are stuck as ghosts and Nussbaum is a foster kid stuck on revenge, vowing to get even with Derek’s family for taking over his haunted home.

All twelve-year-old Derek needs is a nice place to live—preferably without any blood-curdling apparitions that scare the pants off him and a classmate bent on ensuring he doesn't make it to thirteen. Piece of cake. Sure.



First 250 Words:
There are far worse things in life than being raised in a funeral home. For example, you could… um…
Okay, here’s one. You could have your brains eaten alive and slurped down by cranky, overworked zombies who haven’t had their morning coffee.
Or how about this? You could be stuffed into a spin dryer at Leo’s Laundromat & Hideous Stain Removal Service and set to Extra Dry/Huge Load.
But Derek wasn’t eaten and he definitely wasn’t spin dried, either. Just driven to the narcoleptic town of Littleburp in the family car (actually, an old yellow school bus), and then to a really unfortunate and grossly undesirable address: 1313 Slimeytoes Lane.
As the bus splashed its way through a beautifully timed thunderstorm on the worst day of Derek’s life (so far), his mom and dad worked at keeping his spirits up by singing their favorite, most embarrassing song: Poopy Head, Poopy Head, Don’t You Be a Poopy Head.
It didn’t help.
It was bad enough his adoptive parents dragged Derek out of his seventh grade class and away from all his friends to limp across the country in a broken-down school bus on this Journey to Nowhere. Much worse was the notion that they were about to move him into a spooky old mansion they planned to convert into a funeral home.
You see, his parents were funeral directors. Morticians. Undertakers.
On this appropriately stormy autumn day, noisy brakes slowed them to a squealing stop in front of their new home.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: The Magic Within

Title: THE MAGIC WITHIN
Category and Genre: YA contemporary with elements of magic (Not true magical realism)
Word Count: 73,000

Query:
Fifteen-year-old Ana Samuels is not excited about moving to the rainy Pacific Northwest. It's bad enough she's leaving her BFF Clara behind, but she's worried her albinism will turn her into a stare magnet. Ana's plans for survival include playing her fiddle, and keeping to the shadows at her new performing arts school.

Falling for James, a hearing-impaired redhead, is not part of those plans. Neither is finding an old violin in her attic—especially not one that shoots electric shocks and blue flames when she touches it. Sensations no one but Ana can see or feel. A note tucked inside the case promises a gift to whoever can endure the magic long enough to play. Willing to try anything to fix her lonely life, Ana is determined to play. Unfortunately, each attempt fails miserably. Even a ten second touch sends her flying. Frustrated, Ana decides to give up. But the violin has other plans and refuses to let her go, delivering headaches and bouts of unfathomable itching. Symptoms relieved only by touching the violin again. Now she's trapped. She can't play but she can't stop trying. As Ana's obsession grows and the magical side effects chip away at her sanity, her grades plummet, her friendship with Clara crumbles, and her blossoming romance with James is threatened.

When she begins to suspect her mother is seriously ill, Ana realizes her mother needs the gift more than she does. Miraculously, James believes her fantastical story and together they attempt to unravel the mystery of the violin's hold over Ana. In the process, they discover the magical offer is about to end. Ana faces an impossible decision. Play to receive the gift—risking the potentially deadly magic—or refuse, and not only continue her descent into madness, but lose her chance to save her mother.


First 250:
I'm not sure how to get the italics to show up on the website, but I think they are important to show that the vision is happening in real time, like dialogue.
Sweat dripped down the back of my neck and trickled between my shoulder blades. Gross. I swear it was hot enough to melt the lips off a chicken. A vision of a plump hen with liquefying lips flitted through my mind. I grimaced at ridiculous image. Clearly, despite my hat—big enough to cover the entire state of New Mexico—the desert sun had finally fricasseed my brain.
I slid deeper into the shade of our old Desert Willow, careful to keep my pale, melanin-free skin under cover. As far as I could determine, the only positive feature of our impending move to the rainy and miserable Pacific Northwest was the promise of cooler temperatures.
After spending the morning helping my parents do a final sweep of our house, searching through closets and empty rooms for forgotten items, I'd escaped outside. Despite the heat, I needed to get away from the memories of my childhood that tugged at my heart from every corner of our house.
I leaned against the tree and opened my book, trying to lose myself in the magic of Gabriel Garcia Marquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude. I read for a few minutes, then the words began to dance and blur. The world around me hushed and became silent. Our yard disappeared in a smoky haze as I slipped into some kind of bizarre vision.
I’m sitting on a dirty, wooden floor. A dim light filters in through the two stained glass windows at each end of the long narrow room.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Fearless

Title: Fearless
Category and Genre: YA Contemporary
Word Count: 83,000

Query:
Seventeen-year-old Annie Armani’s life has been a whirlwind: her world was first shaken by the death of her brother, whom she idolized, and then turned upside down when she won her first mixed martial arts title by knocking her opponent out in a single punch. With her next title match on the horizon, Annie’s worried everyone will learn what she already knows: that her victory was a fluke.

Despite being filled with self-doubt and a healthy dose of imposter syndrome, Annie finds herself the focus on a half-documentary, half-reality show chronicling her journey. While she may be a fighter in the ring, she’s shutting out the people around her, including Jake Duff, her new trainer. While TV producers and interviewers attempt to wrangle a sob-story out of her, Annie avoids talking about her personal life, not wanting to come off as anything other than “strong.” If the TV show goes too deep into her life, the whole world might learn about her father’s disappearance during her childhood, her mother’s attachment to a jailbird boyfriend, and Annie’s deep grief over her brother’s recent passing.

As her next title fight approaches, Annie begins to realize her opponent isn’t the only person she’s up against—she’s also battling herself.

First 250 Words:
As I walked into the convenience store, I immediately recognized the fight showing on the old TV sitting in the corner. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head, stuffing my hands in the pockets. I cursed the fact that my sweatshirt advertised Donovan’s Fight Club, Philly’s premier mixed martial arts—MMA—training facility. I grabbed the milk I had come in for and scooped up a bag of Skittles for my half-sister, Margie. Walking up to the counter, I pulled out a wad of bills from my back pocket. The clerk's attention was on the TV, the fight reflecting in his gray eyes as I put my items on the counter.

“Gimme one sec, okay?” His gaze never left the fight. “This girl’s gonna throw a punch like nothin’ I ever seen before.” He paused to chuckle, still watching. “She’s gonna be the next big MMA star. They’re saying she’ll never lose a fight.”

I swallowed. My throat went dry at any mention of the fight. “Look, I have somewhere to be. Besides, isn’t this fight old news?”

“Old news? They show it over and over, and every time, I have to stop and watch. It’s—what do the kids these days say?—it’s gone viral. The girl’s local, too. Her first real fight, and she won like it was nothin’."

Turning my head to the TV, I was just in time to see the knock-out punch. Just as it had in real time, my stomach lurched.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Dream a Little Dream of Me

Title: Dream a Little Dream of Me
Category and Genre: (YA/Magical Realism/Time-travel)
Word Count: 86,000

Query:
A year has passed since sixteen-year-old Ellie Barrett’s mother died. She pulled away from her two best friends and her once-beloved Aunt Jane who’s now her guardian. She only talks to Nate, the loner guy at school with a mysterious past. She doesn’t see her life ever changing until the night she wishes on a shooting star to get her mother back. And she does, just not the way she imagined.

Now, instead of sleeping, she travels to 1976 when her mother was sixteen-year-old Trix. Being with her mom is a dream-come-true . . . almost. Ellie loves Trix and adores her grandmother and her aunt at twelve. But Trix isn’t a mom-substitute, and time-travel has its downsides. Besides never sleeping, Ellie vanishes when she travels from one time to the other. In the past she’s healthy, but in her present Ellie fears she won’t survive.

Time-travel is killing Ellie, so she must choose—if she can—life in the past with her sixteen-year-old mother or life without her mother at all.


First 250 Words:
The breeze on top of the Empire State Building gusts Mom’s soft hippie skirt behind her, her black and silver hair intertwining with mine. “Can anything be better than this?” she asks.
We pose like figureheads on a ship, arms outstretched, hugging all of Manhattan, the car lights streaming like rivers far below.
I laugh. “When did heights stop bothering you?”
Mom wraps her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “When I died, my sweet.”
My alarm went off, the droning buzz erasing Mom’s voice. I hit the clock, needing to smack something. To break something. My heart pounded, my eyes teary.
Mom Dream #365. She leaves me. Again.
I curled into a ball under my comforter, my arms wrapped around me. Me pretending they’re hers. I didn’t know which was worse—great dreams where Mom is herself or the ones like last night’s where she sat next to me at her funeral, skeleton thin, accusing me of forgetting her, preferring Aunt Jane.
No matter which kind of dream, waking up was torture. I wanted her here, whether she was nightmare Mom or real Mom. Real Mom—pushy, loving, funny, mush under impatience—would know how desperately I missed her, that I’d do anything to get her back, to have her open the door, hear her say my name.
“Ellie, you up?”
Wrong! Wrong person!
The door creaked opened. “Ellie, answer so I know you’re awake.”
Every morning we did this. She’d sound like Mom, but every morning she wasn’t.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Robot Dreams

Title: ROBOT DREAMS
Category and Genre: YA Science Fiction
Word Count: 80,000

Query:
All wayward android Ada can remember, after having her memory wiped upon arrival, is the bunker belonging to the eccentric humans who took her in. A mistaken outburst shows she isn't as pliable as they would have liked and she soon finds herself cast out into the night.

A human army's press gang finds Ada while securing recruits to retake territory from the machines, with her training from the bunker helping her to play human convincingly.

When she is selected for a vital mission with commander Nico to the heart of machine controlled territory, with the most powerful anti-robot weapon at their disposal, Ada must decide where her allegiances lie. She’s never had a choice before and finds herself increasingly drawn to Nico, his easy friendship making her feel as if she is truly alive.

As they fight through hostile machines to the factory where Ada herself may have been created, Ada must decide which she'd rather be: woman or machine. Nico's mission is to deactivate robots and if he discovers her true identity her very existence will be on the line.


First 250 words
The couple opposite me closed their eyes and murmured words of thanksgiving together.
“Thank you for our home, for this food we eat today and for our safety from the metal-lovers outside.”
The thick steel walls around us were suffocating, enclosing us in a space barely big enough to stretch our arms out. Scott and Janet weren’t fans of decorating, so the only unnatural marks in the room were small indentations at head height on the wall closest to me. They wouldn’t tell me what had caused them. Wasn’t my place to ask questions like that, apparently.
“May I be excused?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, the charging wire plugged into my spine rubbing against the back of the chair.
Scott looked up first, peering at me over his wiry glasses.
“Stay, Ada. There are things you can be thankful for too. Why don’t you share them?” Scott’s voice was low and melodic, almost hypnotic.
“I’m thankful for...”
I looked over at Janet for clues, but today she wasn’t in the mood to be helpful. She shook her head insistently, looking like the little nodding dog in the old commercial they made me watch once. We were two hundred feet below ground, playing at happy families, and I was completely reliant on them for the electricity I needed to survive. I might never have seen the outside world but I wasn’t dumb enough to think that a family consisted of Mum and Dad and a metal-girl.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Elise & the Seer

Title: ELISE AND THE SEER
Category: Young Adult, Contemporary Fantasy
Word Count: 69,000


QUERY:
Space opera nerd Elise Kan only wishes there was a Dark Side to defeat.
Instead, she’s stuck with AP Econ problem sets, pseudo-friends with useless supernatural abilities like vomiting M&Ms, and (literally) hovering Asian parents who nag her constantly about how much she eats. Yes, half the population gets unique Gifts when they reach their teens, but most of these abilities are pointless, and others just suck.
So Elise counts calories. Obsessively. Because maybe the most significant thing she can do right now is prevent the Freshman Fifteen.
Then Elise’s dormant Gift finally erupts: she shapeshifts into a bear in the middle of lunch, devours way too many cinnamon rolls, and gets tranquilized by Gift Control. Self-exiled from the cafeteria, she’s forced to cross paths with Tanata, a new kid with Gift-related problems of his own. As they bond over eighties space opera Third Millennium, take down a cyborg bully, and try to revive Tanata’s comatose mother, Elise’s eating disorder tightens in a Gift-fueled downward spiral. Elise has to decide if she’ll open up about her mental health—and in the process, learn how to fight for good even when there’s no clear Dark Side.



FIRST 250 WORDS:
By October, no one cares that Ms. Stickelman fades in through the back wall to start first period Econ, but she keeps doing it anyway.
“Okay, AP guys, I’d say we’re eighty-seven-point-five percent awake,” she says, her body solidifying as she sits down at her desk. Her words come rapid-fire like she’s on Five Hour Energy, except she doesn’t drink caffeine. If she did, I think the world might explode. “Which is decent, considering last week it was only--” she picks up her attendance sheet-- “seventy-five. Kevin Shao?”
Kevin jerks awake. His butt is starting to float a few inches above his seat-- only his knees, which knock on the underside of the desk, keep him from drifting to the ceiling. “Huh?”
“G’morning to you too,” Stickelman says, smiling pleasantly. “Can you give us a reason why a firm’s supply curve might move right?”
Kevin flushes all the way up to his carefully sideswept bangs. Stickelman moves on with her attendance/cross-examination, calling on Jane Meyerowitz (Gift: making cutesy rain clouds above the heads of people she doesn’t like), Mara Dale (Gift: baking perfectly round macaroons), and James Jorgensen (Gift: running super fast, so he can’t compete in regular track meets but all the girls flock to him anyway).
I stuff my cold hands under my legs. The heater roars, but there has to be a draft from the window because I always have goosebumps crawling up my neck and my fingers are blocks of ice.
Not enough body fat, Mom nags in the back of my head. You get too cold, you will die of pneumonia.
Yeah, right. I push her voice away.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: White Soul

Title: White Soul
Category and Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Word Count: 90,000

Query:
Amelia Walker is murdered in a mugging gone wrong.

But before her teenage corpse starts to rot—a Soul Reaper offers a deal. She can have her life back, if she agrees to become a Soul Reaper—living as a mortal, enforcing Death’s rules to maintain the balance between the living and the dead. Breathing again would be reason enough to take the deal, even as it means an eternity of servitude.

Seizing the opportunity to have her life back, Amy learns that her death was no accident, and that a banished Reaper is to blame. Amy wans’t his first victim—many Reapers died and will die. He has to be stopped. Yet, he belongs to a rebel group offering a chance of changing Lady Death’s brutal rules.

Maybe this group and their visionary leader can free Reapers from their eternity of work and servitude—and return Amy the normalcy that reaping souls and watching people die has taken from her life. She must embrace her Reaper identity, or be banished and join those fighting it, no matter how ruthless and bloodthirsty they are.


First 250 Words:
Why was that boy following her?
Why wouldn’t he just leave her alone?
Amy sprinted toward the 77th Street station. The plastic bag with her brother’s Christmas gift pressed against her chest, lungs stinging and breath heavy. She dodged people as they watched her.
She skidded around a street corner, taking a shortcut and running past what she thought was the New York Society Library. After another minute of running, she stopped, bending forward, hands on her knees. Slowly her hammering heart calmed down, and so did the adrenaline in her veins, the snow falling on her face helping to ease the heat in her body.
The subway station was not far, but her tired legs didn’t care. They wouldn’t move.
“C’mon,” she said, straightening. “Almost there.”
She didn’t find the boy in black—her stalker. He wasn’t anywhere in sight. Minutes earlier, it didn’t matter where she looked or how much she ran, he would always be there, distant, watching. But not now. Lost him. Good. She had turned left and right countless times while running, randomly following sidewalks on streets full of falling snow.
The street was empty. The wind whistled, and the cold clung to her skin as she breathed, fog escaping her lips with every exhale. She sighed.
This street wasn’t familiar—a residential zone, filled with two-story buildings. Lights gleamed from the windows of the homes. Lampposts gave off a smooth, pale illumination in the dark.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Hunting Legends

Title: Hunting Legends
Category and Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Word Count: 78,000


Query:
Humans won the war between monsters and men. Now the supernatural world faces extinction.

Sixteen-year-old Azrielle Grave is a cockatrice with a lethal gaze and the ability to shift into human form. Undercover in war-torn New York, she must infiltrate and sabotage an elite squad of teenage monster hunters. If she is discovered, she’s dead.

Seventeen-year-old Raid Ameen knows firsthand that winning the war didn’t make mankind safe. A weapons expert and captain of his school’s monster hunting squad, he is a master at stalking the things that go bump in the night. But then the new girl arrives. Distracted from his trigger happy-life, he has no idea he’s falling hard for the girl of his nightmares.

Azrielle’s directive is to stop the rising body count—not flirt with the enemy. But when her pretend relationship with Captain Raid turns into something real, it not only puts her cover in jeopardy but also her objective. If she fails to finish her task, she’ll be marked a traitor to her kind, a crime punishable by execution. Unless Raid figures out her secret first, then he’ll be the one hunting her down. Azrielle must complete her mission before everything falls apart and leave no evidence or witnesses behind, even if putting a bullet in the captain’s heart shatters her own.


First 250 Words:
Fastest way to a guy’s heart is a bullet between the third and fourth rib. Knife works too, though it’s slower, messier, and requires close range. But I don’t need either.
No one beats me in a staring contest. Ever.
An upperclassman with a student council signa on his sleeve waves me over through the crowded hall, probably my assigned welcome committee. He leans against a massive stone archway scarred by faded scorch marks. Iron bars reinforce the scratched shatterproof glass doors framed by the archway that lead to the grounds. Every window is barricaded the same way, protection from Legends. Monsters like me.
I look human, but I’m not. Cockatrice blood runs in my veins.
Mr. Student Council’s gaze lingers on my dark, mirrored sunglasses like a question. This ignorant human ought to be grateful. My fashion faux pas keeps him alive in my presence.
Not that he knows. That’s the point of being undercover.
“You’re new, sophomore, right?” He shakes my hand. “Welcome to Darton Academy. I’m happy to give you a tour, help you find your classes.” He pauses with a glance around us and drops his voice quieter. “Free advice: steer clear of the Venator cadets—they’re never friendly, worse if you get in their way. Easy to spot armed or not. All they care about is hunting Legends.”
“Same here, it’s my first class,” I say.
His eyebrows jump and he straightens with sudden unease like he wants to flee. “Oh, you’re one of them.”

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Flesh & Ink

Title: FLESH AND INK
Category and Genre: YA Fantasy
Word Count:87,600

Query:
When the blue stains growing on her stomach are exposed, 17 year-old Lilivan knows she must abandon her dream apprenticeship as a holy inker-of-flesh. Only enemies of the Goddess bear these stains.The church’s soldiers will kill her for her marks and sentence her family, even her favored sister, Naoma, to a life of servitude.

On the run from the church, Lilivan tracks down a hidden sanctuary for those who bear stains like hers. There, she learns the church lied. Her stains are a blessing, marking her as a wielder of non-church magic. The church uses earth magic and seeks to eradicate all who possess magic they can’t control.

Protected in her new home, a nightmarish vision awakens Lilivan—the church has trapped Naoma and is draining her earth magic and her very life. If Lilivan wants to save her sister, she must embrace her new powers and the elemental beings she once shunned as evil spirits. But first, she must win her freedom from a sanctuary that doesn’t think she’s ready to leave.


First 250 Words:
The window above the sink lit the half-subterranean kitchen a little too well. When I raised my arms after dinner to put a plate away, my ill-fitting shirt exposed more than just my light-brown stomach.
I’d grown careless since the blue stains first appeared on my stomach two years ago. The dark-brown dye I used to conceal the marks was currently faded and patchy. I should have permanently inked over them.
“Oh, Holy Goddess!” Papa's face paled as a mug slid from his fingers and splashed into the sink. “Demon-stains, Liligirl?”
I shoved the plate onto the shelf and yanked my hem down.
“Papa, I didn't do anything,” I said, breaking into a cold-sweat, “I swear, by Domina Earth, the Goddess Nelopai Herself!”
Papa had to believe me. No matter what the church said, the stains had arrived like acne right after my fifteenth birthday. They weren't heralding some imaginary deal I’d made with demons. Despite my prayers, the angular cobalt-blue stains spiraling out from my navel had spread. They now brushed my sides, contrasting against my rounded belly when I neglected to cover them in nut dye. Maybe the myths were true, the Goddess couldn’t hear the prayers of the soulless.
My dream apprenticeship as a holy inker-of-flesh had seemed a chance at redemption for whatever I’d done to deserve the stains. How could a soulless one have been allowed to perform such a sacred task? For over a year I’d been doing dye prep and touch-ups on the faithful.

Son of a Pitch Finalist: Hazelwood

Title: Hazelwood
Category and Genre: YA, Dark Fantasy
Word Count: 96,000

Query:

It's been a year since seventeen-year-old Roma witnessed the disturbing murder of her five-year-old sister Brie and she's struggled to cope with the trauma. But on the one year anniversary, she's shocked to find her undead sister, Brie, standing over the corpse of their abusive mother, who’s slumped in a tub overflowing with blood. Brie doesn’t seem to remember that she died a year ago or that she’s killed their mother. But Roma does.

Refusing to accept Brie’s morbid reawakening as anything but a blessing in disguise, Roma convinces herself that Brie’s insatiable, malicious hunger for human hearts can either be cured or controlled.

While evading the law, Roma struggles to clean up the bloody trails Brie leaves behind, all while balancing her depression and suicidality that’s declining to a terrifying, familiar low. As if answering her prayers, Roma receives a phone call from a woman named Veralyn, offering Roma and Brie sanctuary on a remote island. It seems too good to be true.

It is.

Thrown on an island inhabited by Faeries, both alive and dead, Roma struggles to face the fact that Brie might never have been human from the start. With Veralyn’s unsettling fixation on Brie becoming more aggressive, Roma’s behaving recklessly and desperately, struggling to keep Brie out of Veralyn’s reach.

Failure to escape Veralyn’s obsession with Brie will not only result in Brie’s kidnapping, but Roma may cave to her dark desires to make another attempt to end her life.



First 250 Words:
At five years old my sister, Brie, was beaten, strangled, and held underwater.
I know how she died, I know who did it, because I was the one who buried her body, in mum’s garden, one year ago to the day.
The garden in the front of Mum’s house once overflowed with carnations and pink peonies, Brie’s favorite flowers. I hate them, but only because they’re hard to draw and paint. I dip my brush; soft, blonde bristles disappear into a coat of blue and black paint, swirling the colors together. My brush moves across the canvas, dragging thick, blue sludge-like streaks behind it.
Ugh.
Acrylic paint never works for me, what made me think it would now?
Setting the paintbrush on my easel, I step back, fixing my gaze on the canvas. The carnations I painted in the left corner were already chipping, flaking from the fresh coat of paint.
Thanks to my depression, it’s clear to see I’ve let myself go in more ways than one. I’ve always been a big girl, so gaining weight over the last year isn’t too much of a big deal – pun intended- but I sure as hell am noticing the shift in my artwork. My fists tighten. I’m pissed that my mental health could degrade my natural talent to a mediocre dollar-store quality.
Paintings fill my walls and floors, surrounding me in beautiful symphonies of color. If magic was real, I was convinced this would be what it was like.
But not if I keep producing these chipping, pieces of shit.

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.”