The Moon’s Edge, YA Sci-Fi

Name: C.S. Severe
Genre: YA Sci-fi
Title: THE MOON’S EDGE
Word Count: 88,000
Themes: LGBT, #ownvoices

 

35-Word Pitch: When intergalactic deities resurrect Alyssira in a post-apocalyptic Boston, she goes from HS senior to soldier to prevent elites from selling Earth to aliens, but her inability to obey orders could jeopardize the whole mission.

 

First 500 words: 

Tonight deserves a Grammy for ruining my hearing.

Military helicopters invade the night sky like a swarm of angry wasps, their blades thunderous with nerve-wracking urgency. I plug my fingers into my ears, shielding them from the thumping of the main rotors, missing my headphones I forgot back at the Boston Public Library. I sigh. Another gift for the Lost and Found Box.

Having knocked out a term paper for my A.P. World History class, I can’t think of anything else except sleep. My thumb and forefinger rub my eyes from underneath my glasses’ clear frames. Come on, Aly. You can make it home.

I trudge up Brighton Avenue to my apartment building as sirens blare in the distance, adding to the cacophony in the skies. Six police cars speed through traffic, congested with late night drivers, eager to get home. One cop car even bangs into the side of a blue Toyota sedan. The owner sticks his head out and flips off the cops. The police car’s wheels squeal as it rockets ahead.

I lift my brows, pushing a few of my long purple braids behind my ears. I fight the temptation to take out my cell phone from the back pocket of my black skinny jeans. It’s past ten, the worst time for walking distracted, even if home is three blocks away.

My cell phone buzzes in protest, playing the opening theme song for The Walking Dead. With a bipolar older sister, I can’t ignore it. It could be my grandmother calling about an emergency. I slip my phone out of my pocket, a slim device in a copper steampunk-inspired phone case, decorated with real cogs, coils, and wires.

The caller’s my boyfriend, Justin. I smile at his thumbnail showing us in our Joker and Harley Quinn cosplay from Boston’s Comic Con last year—I was the Joker while Justin played a sexy Harley Quinn. We delivered pure awesomeness with our costumes, racking up tons of admiration and envy points.

“Hey, babes,” I answer. “It’s funny. I was just thinking about the dangers of walking while distracted by my phone and, lo and behold, you call.” I quicken the pace of my long strides, already hunting through the lower pouch of my book bag for my keys. I put them in my leather jacket’s pocket for easier access.

“What? You still haven’t gotten home yet?” he asks. “How long did you stay at the library?”

“Ugh, forever. I should convince them to let me live there,” I say. “It would save me from these late night trips back and forth.” My apartment’s stone steps greet me.

Justin laughs. “You could always stay at my place here at BU. All you’d have to do is cross the street to get to the campus library which stays open way later.”

Inside the building, I take the elevator up to the tenth floor. “You keep saying that, but Gran’ll never allow it. It’s a miracle she’s even letting us see each other.”