Title: DOUBLE-CROSSING THE BRIDGE: A TROLL HEIST
Genre: Adult Humorous Fantasy
Word Count: 80,000
My Main Character's Most Stressful Relationship is:
Granu had one moment of weakness when the burdens of unemployment weighed so heavily, she needed to blow off steam. A night at Goron’s throwing back grog turned into an embarrassing one-night-stand with her creep of a neighbor, Len. Granu’s avoidance strategy fails when she decides to lead an amateur crime crew and discovers that Len is the only troll in the city with the computer skills to get the job done. She sucks it up and makes the true walk of shame—to ask for help. This is going to get ugly.
Granu needs cash fast, or she’s out on her ass. Her degree in E.T.E. (Early Trollhood Education) didn’t prepare her for the perils of dealing with raging young trolls in the throes of puberty, and when Granu’s students nearly turn her into a troll fillet, she’s left jobless and facing eviction. After falling from valedictorian to broke freeloader, Granu finds that the only work she’s qualified for is demeaning job in the tar pits. She’d sooner become the stone centerpiece of a human playground.
Just when she thinks she's out of options, Granu’s best friend, a philandering playboy, devises the perfect solution: a heist! To successfully rob The Covered Bridge, the most powerful and heavily-guarded company in the city, they’ll need three things: tactical thinking, impenetrable sun protection, and gallons of grog.
Granu enlists an old college buddy, a do-gooder desperate to prove his trollhood, and becomes an unlikely criminal mastermind. To round out the crew, she takes on a femme fatale with a talent for manipulation and a computer guru with a talent for getting under Granu’s skin. With meticulous planning, Granu may be able to keep them all out of the sun long enough to become filthy rich, and never have to work again.
There’s just one thing she doesn’t count on: those damn meddling billy goats.
First 250 words:
Granu bent to scoop up the shivering rat taking cover beneath the mahogany table of the low-lit cavern tavern. The rodent, the latest victim of Critterhole freed by a bad toss, was attempting to escape inevitable impalement on the spike within the game’s brightly painted wooden platforms.
Not wanting to ruin the entertainment, Granu tossed the creature back to the waiting swog, a flabby porcine underling with an upturned nose and beady, wide-set eyes. He grunted in thanks, a string of snot leaking from his nostril as his tiny wings fluttered in appreciation of her attention. His black-speckled tongue darted out to clear the mucous as he arched a brow at Granu. She turned away, signaling him to return to his friends, a group of trolls and swogs jostling one another for a turn at the game. The voices of the players echoed off stark stone walls, and a persistent drip of water splashed onto the table from the cavern ceiling, adding to the ever-growing puddle on top. Granu used the back of her stubby hand to clear the puddle. A high-pitched shriek marked the death of the rat and a point for the swog’s team.
“He really said that to her? What was he thinking?” said Fillig, Granu’s old college buddy.
“Kradduk only thinks of one thing, you know that.”
Granu gazed after the swog as she continued her conversation. Snot aside, he wasn’t a bad-looking potential mate. Granu had no idea why such a tasty hunk of meat would be interested in her.