Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Revised Entry 5 Lori M Lee

Name: Lori M Lee
Entry #5
Title: Soul Without a Boy
Genre: YA urban fantasy
Contact: leemai82 at gmail dot com


When 17-year-old London Howell inadvertently "creates" a girl, he must protect her from the magi after the power in her soul—a soul that shouldn't exist anyway. But when his dad is taken, London will have to risk his own soul to save them both.
Second line of the very first paragraph of the 1st chapter:

It was crouched against the wooden post of a neighbor's mailbox, little more than a shadow with large-knuckled fingers that raked at empty air.
First 250 words of your second chapter:

The boy gave Amun a cursory glance before addressing London. "What House are you from?"

London wasn't about to tell them where he lived. He pointed over his shoulder.

The girl with the ponytail laughed. She rested a hand on her hip and leaned toward Amun. "What's your name?" she asked. At Amun's dismissive look, her cheeks turned pink. "You got a problem?"

"What's the name of your House?" the boy asked, his words edged with impatience now. Like the girl, he was Asian, his dark hair braided back into cornrows.

"My house's name?" London repeated, confused. "Can't say we've ever named it." At the boy's tightening jaw, he offered, "Harold?"

"You think you're funny?" Cornrows asked, voice rising.

London didn't think so, but that didn't stop him from trying. Humor was a tool, an ice breaker. Or maybe an ice pick, more exact. Humor directed conversation away from topics that were either uncomfortable or too personal.

"Or maybe you're just stupid," Cornrows said. He reminded London of the football players at school—too much competition, not enough anger management.

"Sure," London said. If he was supposed to be stupid, then he would take advantage of it.

Cornrows sneered and raised his palm, fingers splayed as if pushing against an invisible surface.

The discomfort returned, skittering across London's skin. He was suddenly short of breath, like the air was being sucked from his lungs. He tried to breathe in and couldn't. He clutched his neck, alarmed at the dry gasps issuing from his throat.

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