Cover Reveal: SLEEPER by SM Johnston

About the Book:

Title: Sleeper (Book I in the Toy Soldiers series)

Author: S. M. Johnston

Publisher: Entranced Publishing

Genre: NA science fiction with paranormal elements

After a life saving heart transplant, eighteen-year-old Mishca Richardson is plagued by nightmares and an urgent desire to find her birth parents, which she puts down to post-operation depression. But her new heart seems to bring more than a second chance at life in the form of speed, strength and love at first sight.

About the Author:

Sharon is a writer from Mackay in Queensland, Australia who has short stories published in anthologies and was also runner-up in the Australian Literary Review's Young Adult short story contest with KARMA. By day she is a public relations executive and by night she writes weird fiction and soulful contemporaries while her husband, two sons and cat are fast asleep.

Social Media Links:

Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/authorsmjohnston
Twitter: https://twitter.com/S_M_Johnston
Website: www.smjohnston.com
Blog: www.downunderwonderings.blogspot.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4019418.S_M_Johnston

Heads Up: The Writer's Voice

Hey guys!

If you're not already aware of it, the lovely Brenda Drake is participating in The Writer's Voice again this year. Head over to her blog for all the details!

http://brenleedrake.blogspot.com/2013/04/the-writers-voice-details.html

You definitely want to enter this one if you're a querying writer! What better way to whip your project into shape, AND get it in front of some of the top agents in the business?

Good luck!

Pitch Madness - GAME ON!

It's been a long week of reading through all the amazing pitches and our wonderful readers have narrowed the slush, and your game hosts have chosen sixty, along with four pitches saved by our slush readers, pitches for the game.  If you're new to Pitch Madness you can check out the detail here and our fantabulous agents here.

(Scroll down to view all the picks for my blog.)

Comments are set to moderation so the agent's won't see their competitors' bids. Please no comments other than those from the agents. After the game later on March 28, we'll release the moderation and let you all comment on the entries. 

Please note: We will email submission details for all requests by the agents. After the contest, agents will make requests to us for the pitches they loved and didn't not win.

Congratulations to those who've made it into the game! For those who haven't made it, we are hosting a Twitter Pitch Party on March 29 from 8AM to 6PM EDST on the hashtag#PitMad. 

How do you twitter pitch? You can find all the details here.

 

After you read the pitches, go check out Benjamin Chiles at Story Multiverse's Musing about Pitch Madness. It's wonderful!


And finally, I want to take a moment to send out a HUMONGOUS THANK YOU to my team, who I never would have been able to do this contest without! Thank you for all your hard work, ladies!!

My partner in crime, Marieke Nijkamp.: 


And our spectacular Slush Zombies: 

 

Kat Ellis 

K.T. Hanna

 

Stephanie Diaz

Pitch Madness Entry SW-1: BEING THE QUEEN

Pitch Madness Entry SW-1: BEING THE QUEEN

GENRE: Contemporary MG
WORD COUNT: 58,000

12 year-old Sabrina wants to be queen of her school’s Arthurian Feast, but to win she must defeat her ex-BFF and stop pretending to be someone else—without losing her self-respect or her new friends. 

The first day of seventh grade, I was almost late to school—because of pirates. Not Johnny Depp pirates or cool historical pirates like Sir Walter Raleigh. But still, pirates.

            I’d been circling my room like a giant bird of prey, my backpack flapping on my back. My feet, encased in shiny new Mary Janes, tapped out a restless rhythm as I moved, dodging the edges of my desk and leaping over a small pile of dirty laundry.

            “Sabrina?” Grace stood in my doorway, her blonde hair already starting to come out of her two braids. She held out a battered eye patch. “Play pirates with me?”

            I looked at my watch. 7:54. Six minutes until it was time to leave. Thirty-six minutes until I officially started seventh grade.

            “Please?” Her voice lifted, pleading. “I need you to find my lucky rainbow socks. I buried them, and now I can’t find them.”

            “In-the-garden buried or under-your-bed buried?” With Grace, it was always better to ask.

            She rolled her eyes at me. “In my room. Duh.”

            “Okay, I’ll play. But just for a few minutes.” I let my backpack slide to the floor.

            Grace squinted up at me. “Aye aye, Cap’n Raven.”

            I put the eye patch on.

As I followed Grace across the hall, a familiar swagger came into my walk. It shouldn’t feel this good to be Raven again—not today, not when I was starting seventh grade and officially too old to pretend like this.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-2: OFFED

Pitch Madness Entry SW-2: OFFED 

GENRE: YA Thriller
WORD COUNT: 85,000

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

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.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-3: LEAD ME BACK HOME

Pitch Madness Entry SW-3: LEAD ME BACK HOME

GENRE: YA Supernatural
WORD COUNT: 81,000

After her sister’s suicide, Trisha becomes a social ghost—until outcast Jesse stirs her dormant heart. But Jesse’s scarred arms and stories about demons leave Trisha wondering: Is he insane, or are the demons real?

The DVD fell from my shaking fingers. I stood frozen as I stared at my sister, my thoughts slipping like stripped gears. Kelsie draped across the bed, an empty pill bottle resting loosely in her manicured fingers with Daddy’s name printed neatly on the label. Her golden hair draped over the edge of the mattress like the clocks in the Dali painting we studied in freshman Art last year. The smoky eye shadow around her glassy eyes was perfect, her lip gloss smudge-free on her lips as a wondrous smile stole across her expression. She stared at me but didn’t see me. While my lungs filled to call for help, hers exhaled her last breath.

I tripped as I ran downstairs and barely caught myself on the bannister. No one was home. Daddy was still at his office, and Mom had gone to the salon. She’d offered to take us, but it was Kelsie’s first trip home from Mulby University, and I begged her to spend the day with me. We hadn’t seen each other since summer, and I was dying to tell her about this guy who’d just come back to school. I was going to bring it up during the movie… but her plans were different than mine.

The police came; I couldn’t remember if I’d called them. I clutched my cellphone, its red plastic exterior creaking under the pressure of my fingers, so I supposed I had. An officer escorted me into the kitchen and offered me a bottle of water from our refrigerator.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-4: UNWANTED ATTENTIONS

Pitch Madness Entry SW-4: UNWANTED ATTENTIONS

GENRE: Sexy Contemporary Romance
WORD COUNT: 98,8000

When a stalker threatens NYC trauma nurse, Kristine Hanley, SWAT officer, Adrian Reese doesn't give a damn if she doesn't like following his rules...because whether they like it or not, she's his to protect.

Forget sharp-fanged villains, brain-slurping zombies, and men who turn furry once a month. In the eyes of NYC trauma nurse, Kristine Hanley, a person hasn’t experienced true horror until they’ve stood in Mercy General’s emergency room on the second night of the full moon. It was a night when superstitions reigned, and even the most logical-minded nurse didn’t dare mutter the word quiet.

Tonight, someone in the ER must have muttered the words really quiet.

The only thing that could’ve kept Kristi out of her warm bed after working the sixteen hour shift from hell was Little Ireland. Much like its seventy-four-year-old owner, Patrick O’Malley, the pub was a land-mark. It wreaked authenticity with smells of dark ale and Irish cuisine. Folksy rock music blared from the corner, and as with any night of the week, the place was packed with loud banter and gyrating bodies. It shouldn’t have elicited a calming effect yet the moment Kristi and her best friend, Dee, stepped through the door, her muscles relaxed and a smile of familiarity slipped across her face.

“Two margaritas?” Ireland’s bartender took one look at the girls and broke into a knowing grin. “Or was it a straight Jack kind of day?”

“Let’s start with a double of Jack followed by a chaser of José.” Kristi groaned as she plopped down on an empty stool. “We’ll go from there.”

“How ‘bout we go to my place?” came the slurred offer from the man on her left.

After counting to five—twice—Kristi turned to the pub regular.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-5: HEAVYWEIGHT

Pitch Madness Entry SW-5: HEAVYWEIGHT

GENRE: YA LGBT Contemporary Romance
WORD COUNT: 78,000

A gay teen wrestler with an eating disorder gets his world shook up when a possible love interest moves to the small southern town. Exposure of his secrets has a devastating effect on his life.

I’ve got six rules for dating. They go like this:

1) Never date the same person for more than one month.

2) Never date the same person twice.

3) Always behave like a gentleman, but try to remain distant and aloof.

4) Never give more than a kiss. Preferably short pecks. Definitely no tongue.

5) For the love of God, NO TOUCHING BREASTS!

6) Always end it with an "It's not you, it's me" speech, highlighting their greatness while making yourself out to be the dog.

I’ve got my reasons, but these keep me sane. Keeps most of the girls from getting too attached and keep my balls intact after I let them go.

A brunette ball of energy bounds my way, all smiles and twinkling eyes. My name is on her glossy coral lips and her curves are probably the focus of every hot-blooded male standing on the green. Holding back a sigh, I open my arms to receive her but as she’s rocketing my way, something--or actually someone--catches my attention.  

Who.

Is.

That?!

Shoulder-length black hair with…are those blue stripes artfully running through it? Skin like porcelain. The sun reflects off a silver lip ring. It seems to be winking at me. Slight build, yet the skin tight tee shows that he must work out.

Shit. My jaw is hanging and there is drool on my chin. My teeth click with a snap and I try to focus on the girl hugging me. Maggie’s soft body is rubbing up against mine as she greets me hello, but I cannot seem to avert my gaze from the new boy.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-6: FOLLOW ME HOME

Pitch Madness Entry SW-6: FOLLOW ME HOME

GENRE: YA Contemporary
WORD COUNT: 65,000

16-year-old Kelsey knows kidnapping’s a crime. But when Jay, the first guy she’s trusted since a past relationship crossed the line, asks for her help to save his sister, Kelsey can’t say no. 

The house should have been empty. I freeze on the sidewalk and watch the leg dangling from my bedroom window. Blue jeans and a ratty running shoe. Painter, maybe? Repair person?

The rest of the body lowers from the window, and I duck behind a parked car just as he jumps.Five, four, three, two, one. I pop my head up just enough to see over the hood.

He’s crouched on the ground, so I creep up a little higher and let out a breath. He’s tying his shoe. What kind of thief would stop to tie a shoe? Let alone come out empty handed. 

I step out from behind the car. “You could have used the door, you know!” I say.

But he doesn't look up. Just finishes tying that shoe and gives his head a shake to get the hair out of his eyes. I finally catch a glimpse of his face. He’s young – my age maybe. Too young to be someone my parents hired. He walks toward the street, and I glance up at the open window again.

Something doesn't seem right.

“Hey!” I yell. “Wait!” I start after him, but he still doesn't turn around. My hand closes around the cell phone in my pocket. The police. I should call the police. I fumble with my phone, and it drops onto the sidewalk, the crash echoing down the street.

The guy looks back.

His eyes lock onto mine, and I freeze. I stare back, expecting to see fear or guilt – anything other than what I see.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-7: OMEGABALL

Pitch Madness Entry SW-7: OMEGABALL

GENRE: YA SciFi
WORD COUNT: 95,,000

A teenage quadriplegic escapes to an immersive cyber-world to play Omegaball, the world’s most popular sport. Her skill turns heads, so she makes a bid for pro-sports stardom in the real world.


When I was a baby, my mom let my head slip under the water during a bath. It was only for a second. One instant she was holding me by my shoulders, the next I was submerged and helpless, water squirting up my nose, and when mom yanked me back above the surface, I started crying so hard my eyes swelled shut. That’s what she told me, at least.
    
I have nightmares about it all the time. I never thought those nightmares would come true, but they have, now, years later as I look up at the churning surface of a roaring river, a summertime moon rippling through the waves as the water whips me along like a rag-doll, my limbs as useless as they were when I was a baby.
    
Ever since I was a baby. 
    
This time around, I know not to breathe underwater, but my chest is already aching from holding my breath. Freezing water keeps spurting up my nose. Any moment now, I’ll have to cough.
    
And that’ll be it for Laurie Everett, high school genius. That’ll be it for Laurie Everett, inventor. That’ll be it for Laurie Everett, athlete.
    
Athlete. I’m not an athlete. I’m a joke. One big joke for everyone at the party, including my twin sister. Helen, I know you hate me, but I can’t believe you murdered me in front of everyone. 
    
The moon just winked out overhead. It’ll all be over soon.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-8: HAVEN

Pitch Madness Entry SW-8: HAVEN

GENRE: YA SciFi
WORD COUNT: 71,000

Hope needs to convince fellow prisoners that cruel tests conducted by their alien captors are meant to decipher human character, before the fury of one boy forces the aliens to eliminate the human race.

I knew the other Specs ahead of me and behind me were all feeling the same thing, it was a communal cold sweat.

Weeks sidled up next to me, his bulky arm brushing against mine. Weeks got his name from parents who’d given in to the doomsday thinking on Earth, near the end. Some of the kids had names like his now. Days, Weeks, Hours. They’d named their kid after the amount of time they thought they had left. Instead of turning out gloomy and depressed the way his parents must have been, Weeks chose to be ridiculously, incontrovertibly optimistic.

“You know what I’d really like right now?” Weeks asked me with a lazy drawl.

Not to be headed into a session there’s no escape from, where your worst nightmares come to life? “No, what?” I asked.

“A little tap on my tight buttocks for luck?” He swallowed his lips trying to keep a straight face.

I sighed. Then I swatted him on his ass as hard as I could.

He hollered and jumped up and down with glee. “Oh baby, that was just what I needed!”

I let him walk ahead of me to prevent him from returning the favor and kept my head down as he let out exaggerated moans of gratification.

His stupid jokes helped the mood of the group sometimes, but I didn’t want to encourage him any further. No sense in utterly denying what we were all walking in to. You could only pretend so much.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-9: DIPTASTIC

Pitch Madness Entry SW-9: DIPTASTIC

GENRE: Humorous Mystery
WORD COUNT: 85,000

Charlie’s dead and Dip’s in jail, but there may be a silver lining after all. Word is there’s money to be found, but can Dip survive the shovel-wielding widow and her cowboy-wannabe partner?

I’m not a brave man. Let’s get that out right at the start.

I’m reasonably honest and fiercely loyal, sometimes to the point of being stupid. But acts of courage . . . they’re not really my thing.

When Virgil said he wanted to talk to Charlie, I flat out told him no. Graveyards are also not my thing. But the big man was having a hard week, so I knew we’d end up there eventually. (For those of you scoring at home, that’s the loyalty thing screwing me over.)

Two hours and a case of beer later, we pulled up in Virgil’s shit-box Chevy. I was behind the wheel when the pickup's headlights found Charlie’s grave. And we weren’t alone.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.

Virgil was in his own world, examining the half empty can of Schlitz in his lap. His thoughts were probably somewhere between I need another beer and how the hell did I end up homeless, but now wasn’t the time for a reverie.

“Virgil, man,” I said. "We've got company.”

“What?” he asked, looking up. He had that hazy, depressed, sleepy look about him. 

It was a humid night, almost to the point of being spiteful, and my hands were slick with sweat where they gripped the steering wheel. I wiped my palms across on the legs of my jeans and nodded at the windshield. “We've got company.”

Pitch Madness Entry SW-10: DEMOLITION

Pitch Madness Entry SW-10: DEMOLITION

GENRE: YA Dystopian with heavy romantic elements
WORD COUNT: 53,000

Two street kids from opposing urban tribes fall in love while struggling to save their all-night dance venue from being turned into a recycling depot. Lord of the Flies meets The Fifth Sacred Thing.

Noplace in D-town to escape the sound of The Dance, and I’m glad. The techno beat gives something to latch onto as the anarchist’s fist crashes into my stomach like it will tear through and shatter my spine.

Oomph. I double over.

Awareness narrows to brilliant agony and the boom of the bass. If only my meditations were half this focused. A timeless moment later, I can breathe again, but not for long, because—

Oomph. Another punch, followed by aching stillness.

Boom-boom-boom. The beat carries me, red flashes of pain pulsing in time, and I lose track of everything else until the blows stop. I am lying on the ground with my right eye swollen shut. I open my left a little and meet the glazed eye of the A who’s been beating me. I cower back before realizing he’s sprawled on his side too. Blood drools out of his mouth onto the broken concrete between us.

Tattooed fingers grab the A’s shirt, flipping him onto his back, and a knee clad in black denim thunks to the ground by my lips. The new guy’s fist smashes into the A’s round face, splitting the skin over the cheekbone. The knuckles land again, widening the gash.

Again—the nose this time, connecting with a crunch. The A’s head jerks to the side, and a warm spray of blood mists my face. Bile rises in my throat, and I close my eyes, turning away.

 “You going to live?”

I’ve been counting my breaths, and it takes a second to realize the sounds of impact have stopped and the question is for me.

Pitch Madness Entry SW-11: A SCARRED MIND

Pitch Madness Entry SW-11: A SCARRED MIND

GENRE: Adult Thriller
WORD COUNT: 79,000

Closeted psychic Jake only uses his talent to ruin his wife’s TV shows. When he foresees a murder, he must expose his gift and convince police to take action before the killer strikes.

Tears left tracks through her flawless makeup as the woman cowered against the wall in a dingy, dark room. Hands bound behind her, her voice hiccupped as she sobbed. “Please. Don’t do this. Please.”

The light of a bare bulb gleamed off the blade of a chef’s knife as the man advanced toward her. She collapsed into ear-splitting screams, barely able to catch her breath as she attempted to scurry away. The knife ripped into her upper chest and then hacked into the left side of her neck.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

The teller’s voice brought Jake sharply back to the reality of the bank. She paused, half of the bills still in hand, the other half neatly stacked in front of her.

“Oh shit,” he blurted and gripped the edge of the counter. The color drained from his face and nausea tickled the insides of his mouth. Don’t puke, he thought. That won’t save her.

He looked up at the teller, the woman he’d seen stabbed to death, and opened his mouth in an attempt to explain but the words caught in his throat. What was he supposed to say? Definitely not “I’m sorry for my profanity, ma’am. I just had a vision in which you were viciously murdered by a scarred dude with a kitchen knife.”

He must’ve seemed like a nut, standing there, gaping at her.

She stared back at him with a tight-lipped I’m waiting expression. Why would anyone want to kill her in such a horrific manner?

Pitch Madness Entry SW-12: S.P.O.O.K

Pitch Madness Entry SW-12: S.P.O.O.K

GENRE: YA Horror
WORD COUNT: 90,000

A Las Vegas casino becomes a deadly chess board as Josh Clark avoids a diabolical wraith sent straight from a survival/horror video game.

Josh Clark slapped another magazine into his X25 UV electron rifle. The coils of the upgraded weapon were tinged with red, but they were holding. Once the magazine was locked, the indicator near the scope flashed twice and read 144.

He checked his field armor. The equipment strapped to his forearm was still operating under a thick layer of ectoplasm. Under the gelatinous ooze, a digital schematic indicated their position: 

FOURTH FLOOR: LEVEL 16: SABLEMARE MANOR

“You all know what's up ahead,” Josh announced into his headset. “Let's stay tight. Tech?”

“Confirmed,” was the answer. “Three of them.”

Josh raised his weapon. “This is it, guys. All we gotta do is clear this last area. On my count: three...two...one...”

He dashed across the hall and threw his weight against the door. The old wood tore free of the hinges and fell into the darkness.

A terrible scream raged from the shadows. The shriek was joined by other howls that tore through the air in a wretched cacophony. The cry was a serrated blade digging into his ears and down to his skull.

“Fire.”

He pulled the trigger as his teammates flanked him joining the firefight. Under the bursts of energy, the snarling faces of the hell hounds appeared against the backdrop of ebony, the gaunt faces and red eyes tinged with fury. Josh aimed for the closest hound and concentrated on the gaping maw.

Tech Support pinged his headset. “You have company.”

Pitch Madness Entry SW-13: THE PATH THROUGH THE MIST

Pitch Madness Entry SW-13: THE PATH THROUGH THE MIST

GENRE: YA Fantasy
WORD COUNT: 95,000

A California teen moves to rural Ireland and slips into a 5th Century conflict between Druids and Christians, discovering her past-life love. To keep him in the present, she must stop history from repeating itself. 

Inisceo (Island of Mist)

Late Summer 456 C.E.

Lassair

We ran.  Darkness offered protection until the clouds parted overhead.  For the breath of a second, the Lady Moon showed me a premonition, but I ignored it and kept running.  So did our pursuers.  The whole forest reached out to warn us, to stop us – tendrils of ivy grasped at me like fingers, the thorny teeth of briars pulled my hair, even a hare darted across the path in front of me.  A hare, symbol of the intuition which I was refusing to heed. 

The elders say, when death is near, pictures are sent from the past to help ease the transition from this life.  So it was, in those few precious moments, as I ran though the forest following my love, I was sent a flash of luscious memory:  The feel of his hands, warm against my back on the eve of Summer Solstice.  The most tender kiss that followed, moist and searching.  I wanted it to go on forever, but of course it could not.  For that is when the memory flowed out of me, like water through cupped hands, and I was back in the present, racing toward a future that we had planned together.  A future in another place, on another lake island.  A future that could not be. 

CHAPTER 1 – The Other Island

July, Present Day

Lana

I’m lying in the middle of the road, waiting for death. 

“Alana, get up before somebody sees you,” Mom says, hustling past me. 

“No one’s gonna see me, Mom.  Look around - this place is deserted.