Name: Renée A. Price
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Word Count: 99,000 words
Themes: #ownvoices #dualPOV
35-Word Pitch: To stop the energy-draining monsters haunting her hometown, 17yo dramlight huntress Elizabeth Rey must join forces with their creator. Easy peasy. Pan comido. Unless, of course, she ends up killing, or worse, kissing him first.
First 500 words:
I would’ve traded one of my limbs for some fairy lights.
Maybe a leg, since I still needed my hands to hang decorations. Not that the offer would’ve convinced Mr. Loreto to liven up the school’s welcome sign. He still didn’t believe the words Juniper High, the perfect start of the rest of your lifewould read a lot less cheesy surrounded by the right amount of sparkle.
Sighing, I snapped a picture of the school’s lifeless facade and forwarded it to the homecoming committee chat with¡Por el amor de Dios! Why can’t we have pretty things? in all caps as the subtitle.
The first reply came as the school door clicked shut behind me.
It’s Friday night, Liz. Go home.
Not sure where Taylor, my VP and childhood friend, thought I’d be the day before homecoming. I was the head of every event committee for a reason. That I was skilled at obsessing over the smallest details was definitely one of them.
Seconds later, my phone buzzed with texts from more of my friends.
Liz is in President-mode. Hide!
Turning off my phone.
Good luck, everyone.
I rolled my eyes. ¡Vamos! I wasn’t that bad.
Hands busy while I searched for an emoji that matched my expression, pouty lips and all, I pushed the blue and red double doors open with my shoulders. And halted.
Cheeks burning, I squinted at the basketball court through the thick lenses of my lazy-day glasses. Chairs piled up inside the central circle and tables toppled over the division line on each side made the court useless. Either the team would have to use the furniture as hoops or there wouldn’t be a homecoming game before the ball tomorrow.
Groaning, I let my purse fall and it landed by my feet with a thump. It shouldn’t have surprised me that those tontos I called friends had pranked me. But I still regretted not having offered Mr. Loreto my friends’ arms in exchange for my fairy lights. Sounded like a fair enough deal to me.
I walked in circles around the chairs, recalling the yoga breathing exercise I knew so well, and dialed my cousin’s number. She answered after one ring.
“I was pranked. Again.”
Lilly’s laughter rang through the line.
“Por favor, don’t tell me you were a part of it, too. My list of people to kill is already long enough.”
“Not this time,” she said. “And I’m pissed. Everyone in town knows pranks are my thing.” To her credit, she did sound offended. She was lucky I loved her so much. “What did they do this time?”
“This.” I waved toward the mess, spinning around to take it all in. As I did, a shadow that didn’t belong to me glided over the opposite wall. I twisted my neck toward it so fast, my wild curls shifted to lie over my shoulder. Chills ran straight down my spine, and my heart decided it was okay to skip a beat.