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Monday, July 5, 2010


Dear Secret Agent,

High school sophomore, Kat Gamble is exceptional at everything she does.  Gymnastics.  Cheerleading.  School.  Everything.  Until the day she totally screws up the one thing everyone else seems to get right – death.

Killed in a car crash, Kat finds herself in the hospital being jolted awake by a handsome stranger named Jack, who says he can help, but she must go with him immediately.  Forced to choose between him and a doctor – who comes complete with his own Children of the Corn hospital staff that makes her hair stand unattractively on end - Kat opts to take her chances with Jack.

After all, he’s so much cuter.

In a whirlwind escape, Kat is whisked away to Wagner Academy, an elite finishing school for the undead.  There, she learns about the strange new abilities they all possess, along with the history behind the Romulaires - the beings who want to feed on the souls of the newly undead, in order to become more human.

But she won’t be expected to do this alone.  No, she’ll trudge through the following three years Linked to the next unlucky dead kid…who just so happens to be Kessler Gray: only the biggest news to light up the silver screen since RPat came to town.

Oh, and her creepy doctor?  Yeah, he's not done with her yet.

Gaining a second shot at life, all Kat really wants is to make it through high school, preferably in one piece.  But being hunted by the legion of Romulaires for the tattered remnants of her soul – not to mention surviving her bond to one of the hottest, most arrogant teen celebs to ever grace the tabloids - well, that just might be what kills her.  Again.

KAT GAMBLE AND THE RISE OF THE ROMULAIRES is a YA Urban Fantasy complete at 104,000-words.  I’m an active member of both the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, as well as the SCBWI.

Thank you so much for your time; I look forward to hearing from you.


     “What do you mean I’m dead?  What the hell is that supposed to mean - and I’m sorry…but who are you?” I scoffed at the potentially gorgeous guy that for some reason was standing in my room.  I say potentially gorgeous, as right now I wasn’t too impressed with what he’d been saying.   
     I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, but come on!  What normal person waltzes into someone else’s room, wakes them up from an incredible dream about almost naked male movie stars, and announces to them that they’re dead?  I mean, who does that?  Unless of course, I wasn’t actually awake - which I had to admit, was entirely possible.
     But as I blinked almost in slow motion and scanned my surroundings, I suddenly realized something that was stranger than the fact that this guy was telling me I was dead.
     We weren’t in my room.
     Oh, my head was starting to hurt.  And as I raised my hands to my temples, to rub away the soon to be headache I knew was coming, I felt the scratchy plastic bracelet that circled my wrist.
     Huh.  That pale yellow color was so not in season right now; I mean after all, it was mid-August and nowhere near spring time.  So why would I be wearing a bracelet that wasn’t remotely chic or in fashion, let alone made of plastic?  Ew.
     I rolled the bracelet around in my fingers and realized it was a hospital I.D. band.