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Monday, July 5, 2010

#20-Flirting With Fire

Dear Secret Agent,

Flirting With Fire ~ A Pyromance is a first person YA book with alternating male and female POV.  It’s 82, 000 words and a paranormal romance.

Sidra has always enjoyed playing with fire, but things at school are a little more flammable than she is used to.  This new guy, Asher, for example, is smoking hot but also strange and mysterious.  Everyone knows her nickname is Scorch because of her pyromania, but they don’t know she is painting the local fires before they happen.  If they did, all hell might break loose, and they’d come looking for her.  Speaking of hell, there is a whole different world out there that Asher fights.  Pyrodemons and hunters and a dog that hides in shadows.  There are secrets he just doesn’t share… even if Scorch does light his heart on fire.  When fire strikes too close, Sidra has to trust someone.  She might get burnt, but with how hot Asher is, perhaps it’s time to play with fire.  With any luck, she’ll get scorched.

I’m an insomniac, and I write for crazy amounts of time instead of sleeping, so I’ve also written other manuscripts in other genres both for adults and young adults.  I have a supportive but geeky husband, and I’m blessed with two wonderful Special Needs children.

Thank you for your time and consideration.



My father says I’m a classic introvert.  He claims the damage my mother did to my ego by forcing me to live out her glory days has created an unrealistic expectation for success that has made me feel like a failure.  No matter what I do—no matter what I say—I’ve already lost—according to my father, I mean.  He ran off with his secretary—no, excuse me—his administrative assistant, Bliss, a year ago, so what does he know about failing?  Actually, it seems like he’s a professional at failing.  And, yes, her name really is Bliss.  I’m to call her mother now.

I won’t, of course.  I’d just as soon staple my own tongue.  Plus, it would kill my mom—my actual mom—the one who gave birth to me—not the one screwing my father.

My father also says I have anger issues.  He’s right, but it has nothing to do with my mother.  I just like to be angry.  If I keep it to myself, it doesn’t bother anyone else, so what’s the big deal?  Nothing.  I’ve been working on channeling it into things—mostly painting.

I paint almost entirely in reds and oranges.  I like to paint fire and things on fire.  This bothers some people at school.  My mom understands, so I do most of my painting at home.  My friends call me “Scorch.”  It started in junior high, and I haven’t been able to drop the name.