Friday, November 19, 2010


This is the query I'm currently using and it's working. Yay!! Happy dance. Of course, any suggestions to improve are welcome. I love feedback. I've also included the first two pages of the story. Let me know what you think?

Juliet finishes Jude’s sentences, feels his pain, and gleefully exploits the fact that he can’t bluff her in poker. She takes their psychic connection for granted until her heart stops beating at the exact moment that her twin brother dies in a car accident. Nearly eight minutes elapses before their resurrection.

A year later, seventeen-year-old Juliet’s near-death experience continues to haunt her. A ghost contacts her in the high school bathroom and a sexy, albeit annoyingly conceited boy with wings—who claims to be her guardian, but definitely no angel—saves her after she’s attacked by a hell hound in the woods.

Her brother’s emerging, uncontrolled empathic and telekinetic abilities—he accidentally hurls an alarm clock at Juliet’s head while she sleeps—are eroding his humanity and threaten to blow their familial bond apart at a time when they need to be united.

Unaware that the darkness infecting their relationship is a manifestation of the evil that returned with them from the underworld, its taint spreads unchecked through their small mountain town. If the twins can’t resolve their differences and link their powers, neither they nor the people they care about will survive. And this time, death’s grip will be eternal.

5:45 a.m.

Juliet jerked awake as the alarm clock smashed against the headboard and rained thick chunks of plastic onto her pillow. The jagged faceplate, landed with the pointy end an inch from her eye. She fought free of the blanket tangled around her arms and legs and rolled off the edge of the bed. As she fell, her chin slammed against the edge of the nightstand. She touched the tip of a trembling finger to her swelling lip.

Damn it! Not again.

The jerk wad.
It wasn’t that Jude had frightened her, oh no, she’d never admit to that, even under pain of torture, and especially not to him. What pissed her off so bad she could barely see straight was he’d broken their unspoken truce and had gotten in the first shot of the day in their ongoing war. A war she planned to win or die fighting.

A shiver slid down her spine. What was he waiting for? Was he sneaking up on her? No way did she want to peek over edge of the bed to check his position—might as well stick a bull’s-eye smack in the middle of her forehead.

This is stupid. Don’t hide from him. Pain shot through her injured elbow as she slid her hand under her pillow and pulled out the gun she’d stashed there last night—in case Jude played dirty—then gathered the shattered remains of the alarm clock in the other hand. She licked the blood off her lip and pushed to her feet.

An eerie calm settled over her as she studied the shrouded lump in the twin bed across the room. Now that her heartbeat no longer pounded in her ears, she heard her brother’s muffled snores. She kept the weapon pointed at the floor, but her finger hovered over the trigger. She tiptoed forward, each step deliberate. She concentrated on breathing, a slow inhale and exhale—soundless. With each step, she expected him to pop out of bed like an old-fashioned TV mummy from its sarcophagus, with outstretched arms and spine tingling moans. Her body felt jittery, ready to dodge if he threw something else at her.

Either Jude had been faking being asleep or he sensed her hovering over his bed. A single eyelid rolled up to peek up at her. Her hand trembled as she aimed the barrel of the hot-pink water gun at his eyeball. “Why’d you do it?” she hissed.

He yawned.

“Talk fast, jerk. You freaked me out so bad my trigger finger’s twitchy. Not sure how long I can control myself.”

“Is the water gun supposed to make me pee my pants?” his voice oozed sarcasm like a popped zit.
Juliet let out a muted squeal of rage and pulled the trigger. A stream of water laced with Tabasco sauce squirted out of the plastic water gun. At the last minute, she lifted the end of the barrel, not ready to blind him—yet.

“Are you crazy?” Jude wiped frantically at his forehead before the liquid ran into his eyes.

“Gee, Jude, everyone seems to think I am, so why not live up to my psycho rep.”

“This is stupid—”

“Oh, now I’m stupid?” Her voice rose to ear bleeding pitch. “So sick of the insults, evil twin. I’m not the one who started this. You chucked the clock at me. That’s crazy. And I want to know why?”

“The words you speak make no sense.” Jude rubbed at his eyes then yelped. “Oh, crap! What is this stuff? It burns.”

Juliet leveled the gun at him again.

He jerked the comforter over his head. “I told you. I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I don’t care. I’m done. Go away, Jules.”

She lowered her hand and stared at the bed, biting her lip. The thing about Jude—he couldn’t lie to save his life. Not for lack of trying, but she knew his quirks, and during the conversation, his body language told her he believed he insanity spewing from his lips.

The hand clutching the clock shards, tightened. A jagged edge dug into her flesh, reminding her that she hadn’t imagined the whole thing. Maybe he threw it in his sleep? Sleep tossing instead of sleepwalking? A mystery medical condition? Bah, doubtful.

Juliet dropped the plastic pieces on top of his bundled head. “Whatever. Pretend nothing’s wrong, but I’ll get you back for this.”

“The only thing wrong is you’re insane,” he said, voice muffled by the blanket. “Get back on your side of the room.”

As much as Juliet wanted to drag him out of bed, she decided to let him go back to sleep. Maybe by the time he got up he’d be civil. Not having to look at his stupid face would give her a chance to calm down before she gave into the overwhelming urge to strangle him with his own sheets.

Click on the link to check out JUDE'S CHAPTER.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Now it's your turn. What do you think?

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...