Title: The Blind Sculptor
Entry Nickname: Greek Out with Me
Word Count: 95,000
Genre: YA Fantasy
When Medusa discovers her head is worth a king’s dowry, she knows she’s in trouble.
She’s been in trouble before—the gods call her monstrous, gorgon—on account of her mortal form. And when they can’t kill her for being deformed, she’s banished. Soon after, a powerful God entangles Medusa in his divine bid for power. Bereft and alone, Medusa is besieged on every side. She longs for peace and finds it on a mysterious island, but not for long.
Bastard-born Perseus is a prince without standing, biding his time under the harsh rule of King Polydectes. When Perseus’ mother shuns the King’s marriage proposal, Perseus is blamed. The King takes his revenge by tricking Perseus into embarking on a dangerous mission of mythic proportions—to procure Medusa’s head.
As Perseus narrows his hunt, he discovers how much he and Medusa
have in common. She may be gorgon—but she’s no monster. Even so, the pair are caught between warring realms. With their fates intertwined, Perseus must murder her to pacify his king, and Medusa is desperate to find a way to live among the gods.
THE BLIND SCULPTOR is a re-telling of the Medusa myth that, for the first time, gives us Medusa's side of the story.
Before I was born, there were rumors.
Mother had a difficult pregnancy. Bedridden for months, her waiting women plied her with elixirs, staving off the nausea and cramps. Even her window overlooking the wine-dark sea was a torment. On her orders, servants surrounded her with rosemary bushes in clay pots, their sharp scent hiding the tide’s aroma. By midmorning, when the sun’s rays had coaxed perfume from the oily needles, she’d sink exhausted into her pillows and rest, murmuring about her suspicions that I was cursed. To her relief, she didn’t carry me to full term. I came four weeks early.
My birth confirmed the rumors, and her suspicions. She refused me. A wet-nurse was brought in.
I wasn’t like my sisters, Sthenno and Euryale. Or anyone else in my family for that matter: I was a healthy, pink skinned, copper haired girl-child born into a dynasty of divinity. Even if she’d overlooked my appearance, one small, extremely important fact set me eternally apart: I was born a monster into a family of Gods.
I was born mortal.
My mother would have dealt with the situation better if I’d resembled her, but I neither favored her complexion, nor carried her immortal blood. But perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps no degree of resemblance would have helped, after what she went through—confronted with the worst after tamping down for months the fear every pregnant woman carries alongside her unborn child: the fear of birthing a monster.
~ VERSUS ~
Title: Prophecy Punk
Entry Nickname: Escape the Fate
Word count: 65,000
Genre: YA Contemporary Fantasy
Cursed to see the future and never be believed, Cassandra of Troy High is pretty chill, all things considered. Instead of suffering from madness and torturous hysteria, she’s a fiercely loyal, amoral punk who runs a popular website. There she puts her power to good use--under the pseudonym, ProphecyPunk, she uploads videos of her prophecies when they come to pass because clicks equal coins. (What? Did you miss the word amoral?)
However, her prophecies aren’t always cute animal moments or funny accidents. She also sees murders in dark alleys and war zones on the other side of the planet. So really, who has time for a Love triangle (which Cass is avoiding like the plague. She can’t seem to get her ex-boyfriend Apollo out of her head and the gorgeous transfer student, Elyse, is calling her name like she owns it) when her prophecies begin pointing toward a horrific future much closer to home.
A feud is brewing over her sister, Helen. A school shooting is inevitable. Death is coming. Cass is willing to do anything (lie, cheat, steal, blackmail, assault, you know the drill) to save Helen, but sometimes, you cannot escape Fate.
First 250 words:
“Are you going to stand there all day?” Diana asked, standing behind Cass with her green apron slung over arm. Foggy plumes of breath formed in front of her face with each impatient huff.
Without moving from her spot behind the side of a brick wall of The Java Joint, Cass winked at Diana over her shoulder. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile that only she could wear and make a person want in on whatever was about to go down. See, Trouble and Misfortune followed her like an adoring puppy. Cass had enough charm to make even the most boring, heartless and couch potato-prone souls love dogs.
“Keep your voice down or you’ll mess up my video.” She pressed the camera icon and switched it to video mode.
“Ooh!” Diana rushed to her side, peeking over Cass’ shoulder to watch the screen. “What are we recording?”
It had always been we, not you.
Up ahead there was a dangerous patch of early morning ice.
“In about ten seconds, Kieran is going to come running out of the building, slip and almost fall for about ten seconds of pure hilarity in a stunning show of balance and luck. It’s going to be great. I’m thinking about calling it Lights, Camera, Traction.”
Diana’s eyes glazed over with an opaque sheen. Her face slackened while the memory of Cass’ prophecy deleted itself from her mind. When she blinked, her eyes returned to their normal, beautiful dark brown.
“Did you just say something?” she asked.