The Writer’s Voice Entry!

The Writer's Voice

I was lucky enough to be selected to participate in the battle round of The Writer’s Voice which is a multi blog, uber cool contest that requires entrants to post their Query and first 250 words of their manuscript on their own blogs.

So without further ado, here’s a sneak peak of my novel.

Title: OFFED.

Genre: YA Thriller.

Word Count: 84k


By day, Amelia is a senior at an exclusive boarding school, managing a 4.0 GPA and boys. By night, she’s a fully armed lunatic, investigating her parents’ death with an appetite for murder.

Amelia Black is in full control of her emotions, or so she likes to believe. Most of the time, she is able to conceal the trauma caused by watching her parents die. That and her true post-high school objective: tracking down the murderers and killing them. With a semi-perfect cover story, Amelia lives under her uncle’s wing in the shadows of a dreary town. The only reason she lies low is to keep him out of the inevitable mess.

A sudden twist of fate sends Amelia to Cornwell boarding school for her senior year. Being a good liar takes perseverance, convincing her new group of friends that she is totally normal is effortless, juggling two boys is manageable, but keeping her vengeful side under control becomes a chore. Especially after she receives a package from her deceased father. Now, Amelia faces two choices: take the lifeline and start fresh somewhere else or find the file that evoked his murder.

Amelia succeeds in tracing one of the killers. The second one traces her. She messed with the wrong crowd.

The First 250:

In two seconds, I realize I’m done for.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to read the telltale signs; the stuffy atmosphere, the deafening silence, the hard surface I’m lying on and the general lack of oxygen. I can’t muster the courage to open my eyes. I have a feeling that I won’t like what I see, and when that happens, I’ll lose it, big time.

My head hurts. I can’t remember how I got here. I try to sort out my fragmented memories, but I’m not lucid enough yet. I pray to God that this is one of my hallucinations or just another fleeting nightmare. I reach for my locket, my totem, the only thing that keeps me grounded when a hallucination goes too far. And crap. It’s gone.

This is real. I rub a shaking hand over my forehead and it comes away wet with sweat and blood. This is real. I open my eyes and I see nothing. This is real. I move my arms upward to feel my way in the dark and I come in contact with a smooth surface, inches away from my face. This is real. I throw my hands around and thrash my feet, same outcome, there’s no escape. The hollow thud of wood engulfs me. I feel the hysteria bubbling up in my chest as I put two and two together: I’m hurt, must have been attacked, now, I’m trapped, in a cramped, form-fitting box.

Oh God. I’m in a coffin.