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Monday, July 5, 2010


Dear Agent,

The last thing sixteen-year-old Jessa Whitley expects on her class trip to Greece is to find out she’s the next Hercules. She’s never thrown a punch and her asthma turns even the shortest sprint into a wheezing marathon. When her superhuman strength kicks in and a couple of in-the-flesh Greek gods find her, she’s hurdled into a myth-turned-real world that she used to only day-dream about.

Jessa finds out she’s the last demigod around to set things straight with the Underworld. Not cool, especially when friends and classmates start wondering if she’s gone crazy, and even more so when the god of death is out to destroy her soul. As part of her new powers, Jessa sees visions of a brewing apocalypse which only she can stop. No matter how much Underworld daemon butt she has to kick, Death doesn’t seem to take the hint. He gets personal by threatening everyone she loves, including the god she might be falling in love with.

Balancing normal life and the extraordinary is a lot harder than she expected. Jessa must find a way to make things right, and the only way to do that? Embrace her inner badass and bring the fight to Death. Putting him back in his place, literally, and stopping the destruction of mortals is a huge Herculean task. And Jessa's still not sure she's cut out for the job.

MYTHIC, a young adult fantasy, is Buffy meets Percy Jackson and would appeal to fans of Rosemary Clement-Moore and Terra Lynn Childs. I’m an active member of the SCBWI, RWA, DFW Writers’ Workshop and YALitChat workshop. Recently, MYTHIC placed 3rd for my regional RWA chapter's 2010 Great Expectations contest. I'd be delighted to send the manuscript, complete at 76,000 words, at your request. Thanks for your time, and I look forward to hearing back from you!

Shine On,


The guy following me was nowhere in sight. Don’t get me wrong, having any kind of guy—let alone a Greek one—chase me around added bonus points to my constantly dipping scale of self-confidence. But this guy wasn’t a teenager. No, he was more than likely a perv, and I could’ve sworn I’d seen him on our class tour in Delphi the day before. Or maybe I was just being paranoid.

I stopped and glanced through the stream of people in the Acropolis museum, all trickling down the same paths in a mediocre pace. My eyes moved over families, lines of tourists, and groups of children. To my horror, they landed on a familiar face half hidden beneath a mat of curly blond hair.

The guy stared, frozen like me in the bustle of museum goers, only a few people keeping us separated. Okay, so I wasn’t being paranoid. I gripped my purse tighter. If I ran, I’d most likely look like an idiot. If I continued to stand there in shock, I’d most likely look like an idiot. But it didn’t matter what I planned on doing, because in the time it took my brain to comprehend the fact that I really and truly did have a stalker, he turned to mist. That’s right, the guy evaporated into thin air.

        Holy crap, that wasn’t possible. One minute he was there, and the next? Not so much.