TITLE: Heritage of Hate
GENRE: YA Contemporary
When fourteen year old Zoe discovers her birth father is alive, her search for the truth carries her towards a world her biracial family has hidden from her. From the shadows of a white supremacist group, her father hopes to destroy everything Zoe holds dear, in his own quest to leave behind a heritage of hate.
I’ve never seen a photograph of my first dad. Not ever in all my fourteen years on this planet. We married young. We married stupid. And then he died. That’s all my mom ever says about their life together. An entire marriage summed up in ten words.
“You must have some pictures,” I would say. “You didn’t take a wedding picture? Pictures when you were dating?”
“They got lost when we moved up here from California,” she’d remind me, as if I could remember a trip that took place twelve years ago.
“All of them? Every last one? Nanna and Poppa don’t have any?” I was relentless. It seemed completely impossible that there would be no evidence of my father anywhere. It was bad enough he’d never even met me.
“Cliff died when you were still in my tummy,” Mom told me a long time ago. “He never met you. Never knew you.” And her eyes would go blank and I could tell she wasn’t with me anymore but was somewhere in the past. With Cliff, maybe? I didn’t like that look on her face but it never stopped me from badgering her about photos.
I run my fingers over the snapshots in the shoebox sitting on my lap as I stare at the photograph I just found. Two adults. One baby.The woman’s dark curly hair surrounds her face.Her big brown eyes stare straight into the camera.Younger, but definitely Mom.
Miss Snark's First Victim
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
OTB #6: KYTE'S REVENGE (YA Spec Fic)
TITLE: Kyte's Revenge
GENRE: YA Contemporary Speculative Fiction
When Kyte escapes from a boy who tries to rape her, he dies in a freak accident that suggests she put a bilongo on him. But Kyte asked Mama Jo for revenge, not a killing spell. Now Kyte must use the powerful Santeria she’s learning from her grandfather to prove herself innocent.
A dozen people file into the cabin, each carrying an ebbó. They hand their offerings to me as they enter. Fruit. Polished pebbles. A bottle of rum. I place their ebbós on a cloth-draped table. Painted statues of saints crowd its surface. Candles nest on plates, and a stone face with eyes and mouth made of shells sits in the place of honor at the center.
One by one, the men and women make their way across the oaken floor through patches of sunlight. Some nod or speak my name as they pass. We all wear white to show respect. Strings of colored beads hang around our necks.
The people wait patiently for their spiritual leader, their high priest. These followers of Santeria call him Babalawo.
I call him grandfather.
Pride fills my heart as I watch. Baba is kind and wise. He helps so many people. He sits in a chair in the middle of the room and Señor Ortega stands behind him.
A woman named Aleta approaches Baba with timid steps and swollen eyes. She dips into a deep bow.
“Stand, Daughter,” Baba says. “How can I help?”
“My man don’t love me no more, Babalawo.” Tears glisten on her face, trail down her cheeks. “What can I do? I can’t bear to lose him.” She sways on her feet.
I rush forward to steady Aleta. She looks so lost my heart melts.
She grabs my hand and blinks. “Gracias, Kyte.” She turns to Baba and bows again.
GENRE: YA Contemporary Speculative Fiction
When Kyte escapes from a boy who tries to rape her, he dies in a freak accident that suggests she put a bilongo on him. But Kyte asked Mama Jo for revenge, not a killing spell. Now Kyte must use the powerful Santeria she’s learning from her grandfather to prove herself innocent.
A dozen people file into the cabin, each carrying an ebbó. They hand their offerings to me as they enter. Fruit. Polished pebbles. A bottle of rum. I place their ebbós on a cloth-draped table. Painted statues of saints crowd its surface. Candles nest on plates, and a stone face with eyes and mouth made of shells sits in the place of honor at the center.
One by one, the men and women make their way across the oaken floor through patches of sunlight. Some nod or speak my name as they pass. We all wear white to show respect. Strings of colored beads hang around our necks.
The people wait patiently for their spiritual leader, their high priest. These followers of Santeria call him Babalawo.
I call him grandfather.
Pride fills my heart as I watch. Baba is kind and wise. He helps so many people. He sits in a chair in the middle of the room and Señor Ortega stands behind him.
A woman named Aleta approaches Baba with timid steps and swollen eyes. She dips into a deep bow.
“Stand, Daughter,” Baba says. “How can I help?”
“My man don’t love me no more, Babalawo.” Tears glisten on her face, trail down her cheeks. “What can I do? I can’t bear to lose him.” She sways on her feet.
I rush forward to steady Aleta. She looks so lost my heart melts.
She grabs my hand and blinks. “Gracias, Kyte.” She turns to Baba and bows again.
OTB #5: THE FIX IS IN (Legal Thriller)
TITLE: THE FIX IS IN
GENRE: Adult Legal Thriller
Jimmy Sullivan, a young lawyer appointed executor of a deceased fixer’s estate, must find the fixer’s hidden blackmail book and turn the tables on a Grand Rapids crime syndicate and a Detroit gangster that are willing to kill to get it.
I found out about the death of Harry Miles by text.
My ex-wife and I were squared off across a table at a diner on the east side of Grand Rapids off the Beltline. It wasn’t one of those hidden gem greasy spoons, but it was convenient, and we had never frequented it during our time together. Neutral ground. I was winning our regular weekly argument when I received the text. It threw me off my game.
“What is it?” she asked with a dose of actual concern when I didn’t respond to one of her barbs about my not being able to take care of some bills I had promised to cover. She was right, of course, about the money being a problem, but that wasn’t really what she wanted to argue about. She just couldn’t bring herself to argue about the other thing, and I didn’t want that, either.
I stared at the text. It was from a blocked private number. I had only picked up the phone out of habit. That, and I knew that it would drive Michelle crazy. The message from the unknown texter simply said, Harry Miles died today. And then, as I watched, it buzzed again, and a new message popped up. Just thought you should know…
I kept staring at the phone, but no more texts appeared. I looked back to Michelle who had the little crinkles appearing above her nose that I knew so well, and I felt a swell of affection from the simple pleasure of being with her again.
GENRE: Adult Legal Thriller
Jimmy Sullivan, a young lawyer appointed executor of a deceased fixer’s estate, must find the fixer’s hidden blackmail book and turn the tables on a Grand Rapids crime syndicate and a Detroit gangster that are willing to kill to get it.
I found out about the death of Harry Miles by text.
My ex-wife and I were squared off across a table at a diner on the east side of Grand Rapids off the Beltline. It wasn’t one of those hidden gem greasy spoons, but it was convenient, and we had never frequented it during our time together. Neutral ground. I was winning our regular weekly argument when I received the text. It threw me off my game.
“What is it?” she asked with a dose of actual concern when I didn’t respond to one of her barbs about my not being able to take care of some bills I had promised to cover. She was right, of course, about the money being a problem, but that wasn’t really what she wanted to argue about. She just couldn’t bring herself to argue about the other thing, and I didn’t want that, either.
I stared at the text. It was from a blocked private number. I had only picked up the phone out of habit. That, and I knew that it would drive Michelle crazy. The message from the unknown texter simply said, Harry Miles died today. And then, as I watched, it buzzed again, and a new message popped up. Just thought you should know…
I kept staring at the phone, but no more texts appeared. I looked back to Michelle who had the little crinkles appearing above her nose that I knew so well, and I felt a swell of affection from the simple pleasure of being with her again.
OTB #4: NOW AND WHEN (YA Magical Realism)
TITLE: Now and When
GENRE: YA Magical Realism
You can’t get letters from your future self. At least that’s what 17-year-old Haley McKinley thought until she receives one four weeks before graduation. The letter contains seven pieces of advice, but it’s the final one that sends Haley’s life into a tailspin.
The trick is not to panic. Which is kind of hard when the water’s been holding me captive for what seems like minutes. I let my body relax and wait for the undertow to retreat. Finally, just before I think my lungs might burst, the wave spits me out.
I grab the leash attached to my ankle and pull it back, hard. My board bounces against me, and I slide myself onto it, panting. I feel my right temple, pull my hand back. No blood. I gaze at the shoreline. Aside from a couple walking and a few kids playing soccer, it’s pretty empty.
It was my dad’s rule to never surf alone. But since he’s halfway across the country at some sales presentation, I’m not sure his rules really matter. My head’s pounding now. I point my board toward the beach and let the waves carry me in. I don’t like to end a ride on a low note, but this wipeout was bad. The ocean’s way of reminding me it’s still in control.
I’ll let it win this one.
I resist the urge to flop down on the sand the minute I reach land and instead drag my board across the street to the building that will always be Randy’s Surf Shop, even if the sign says otherwise. I run my fingers over the trinkets that line the aisles where I used to wax surfboards while I waited for my dad to close up for the day.
GENRE: YA Magical Realism
You can’t get letters from your future self. At least that’s what 17-year-old Haley McKinley thought until she receives one four weeks before graduation. The letter contains seven pieces of advice, but it’s the final one that sends Haley’s life into a tailspin.
The trick is not to panic. Which is kind of hard when the water’s been holding me captive for what seems like minutes. I let my body relax and wait for the undertow to retreat. Finally, just before I think my lungs might burst, the wave spits me out.
I grab the leash attached to my ankle and pull it back, hard. My board bounces against me, and I slide myself onto it, panting. I feel my right temple, pull my hand back. No blood. I gaze at the shoreline. Aside from a couple walking and a few kids playing soccer, it’s pretty empty.
It was my dad’s rule to never surf alone. But since he’s halfway across the country at some sales presentation, I’m not sure his rules really matter. My head’s pounding now. I point my board toward the beach and let the waves carry me in. I don’t like to end a ride on a low note, but this wipeout was bad. The ocean’s way of reminding me it’s still in control.
I’ll let it win this one.
I resist the urge to flop down on the sand the minute I reach land and instead drag my board across the street to the building that will always be Randy’s Surf Shop, even if the sign says otherwise. I run my fingers over the trinkets that line the aisles where I used to wax surfboards while I waited for my dad to close up for the day.
OTB #3: BREATHING IN DARKNESS (Romantic Thriller)
TITLE: Breathing in Darkness
GENRE: Adult Romantic thriller
Respected veterinarian Kane Raithby kidnaps Amy Hutchinson in a bid to force her scientist father to stop his horrific research. It was supposed to be a simple kidnapping, but Kane hadn’t counted on falling for Amy, the daughter of a monster. In his mission to destroy the father she loves, he risks destroying her as well.
He had plenty of practice invading other people’s lives. Five years of practice, to be precise, uncovering the shameful secrets people kept tucked away and learning to read beyond the lie of their online lives. Kane had been invading Amy Hutchinson’s life for three weeks. It was his job to understand as much about Amy as he could: what she liked, hoped for, dreamed of. What she feared. After three weeks of surveillance, this was his one overriding thought: he couldn’t stand this woman.
Kane Raithby stretched his long legs as far as he could in the confines of his Land Rover, a sweat trail working its way down his spine. Tired of the smell of cheap coffee, stale air and even staler recriminations, he opened a window. It didn’t help. Dry African air, heavy with dust and exhaust fumes, snuck into the car. And on a blistering Friday afternoon in December, a typical summer’s day in Johannesburg, hot air was the last thing he needed. He had enough of that just looking at Amy Hutchinson.
Shifting in his seat, he scratched at the beard he’d forced himself to grow. The security guard tasked with patrolling the car park outside the glass-fronted restaurant Amy was in made another slow, suspicious pass in front of his vehicle. Kane felt his pulse speed up as he realized that his hulking figure in a battered Land Rover Defender, hedged in by late-model BMWs and Mercs, was proving to be an unfortunate standout.
GENRE: Adult Romantic thriller
Respected veterinarian Kane Raithby kidnaps Amy Hutchinson in a bid to force her scientist father to stop his horrific research. It was supposed to be a simple kidnapping, but Kane hadn’t counted on falling for Amy, the daughter of a monster. In his mission to destroy the father she loves, he risks destroying her as well.
He had plenty of practice invading other people’s lives. Five years of practice, to be precise, uncovering the shameful secrets people kept tucked away and learning to read beyond the lie of their online lives. Kane had been invading Amy Hutchinson’s life for three weeks. It was his job to understand as much about Amy as he could: what she liked, hoped for, dreamed of. What she feared. After three weeks of surveillance, this was his one overriding thought: he couldn’t stand this woman.
Kane Raithby stretched his long legs as far as he could in the confines of his Land Rover, a sweat trail working its way down his spine. Tired of the smell of cheap coffee, stale air and even staler recriminations, he opened a window. It didn’t help. Dry African air, heavy with dust and exhaust fumes, snuck into the car. And on a blistering Friday afternoon in December, a typical summer’s day in Johannesburg, hot air was the last thing he needed. He had enough of that just looking at Amy Hutchinson.
Shifting in his seat, he scratched at the beard he’d forced himself to grow. The security guard tasked with patrolling the car park outside the glass-fronted restaurant Amy was in made another slow, suspicious pass in front of his vehicle. Kane felt his pulse speed up as he realized that his hulking figure in a battered Land Rover Defender, hedged in by late-model BMWs and Mercs, was proving to be an unfortunate standout.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)