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Monday, May 3, 2010


Dear Agent,

Sixteen-year-old Tess is forced by the government to watch her sister die in childbirth. But this is not the end of her punishment. For the sins of her sister, Tess is forced to work at Templeton.

Templeton is a training center for the chosen ones. These genetically engineered humans were created to protect a dying species. They are the enforcers of the law until the naturals, those conceived in the traditional manner, die out. As Tess discovers the secrets of abuse at Templeton, she begins to realize her desperate need to find her voice.

While struggling with the horrors and dangers of Templeton, Tess befriends James, a chosen one. As a result of their growing relationship, James and Tess must use each other to find the strength to question the beliefs they have followed all their lives.

But in the end, Tess will learn a secret about herself that will change everything. She, alone, may be the very key to bringing down a corrupt empire.

SUBLIME is a completed YA novel with a word count of 76000. It is part one of a possible four part series but can stand alone as well. It is a coming of age story about first love, discovering one’s sexuality, and fighting for a sense of self.

Thank you for your time,


Chapter 1:

            I heard my sister’s screams coming from inside the infirmary. The broken chair, discarded and forgotten, clung to me as much as I clung to it. It seemed funny I should feel more connection to the fragile, useless chair in which I sat waiting, than to the woman screaming in the other room.


            It’s not that I did not want to feel something for the woman. I just could not convince myself too. She had left me long ago.


            If I made her a villain, I would never have to miss her.

            My sister was dying. I would watch her die not in the comfort of a happy home, but in the compound, a place we were forced to live after the incident. We were like cattle trapped behind a fence.

            I heard my name whispered faintly among the mutinous, erratic beats of my heart. A name whispered amongst a battlefield of dying men

            Dying women.

            The women kept dying. The government could not explain why. Sure, they could cure cancer and AIDS, but they could not keep women from dying in childbirth. They could not save the female naturals. That is what they called us because we were conceived the old fashion way.

            The chosen ones wanted me to see her death. They wanted to remind me that I was part of a dying species.