Writing

Title: Starry Knight
Genre: YA Sci-fi Romance
Status: Querying


Sage Cassidy is falling for a fallen star.

Her mom is an alcoholic with a taste for abusive boyfriends, her only friend at school quit talking to her, and the popular girls call her a freak. But none of that matters to seventeen-year-old Sage. Not since seven years ago when a mysterious boy named Adam pulled her from the dark depths of Lake Superior and gave her something to live for.

A best friend. A confidante. A first kiss.

When Adam appears in the lake one spring night in an explosion of light, Sage learns he is more than just the boy who visits every summer and leaves her to dream about him all winter. Adam is a star, and he is caught in a cosmic custody battle between a human mother and a powerful celestial father.

Eighteen years ago, Adam was given permission to spend his summers with his mother. But the agreement ends this summer, and unless Sage can find a way to keep him with her on earth, Adam must leave to fulfill his destiny as part of the universe.

Complete at 87,000 words, Starry Knight, a YA Sci-fi Fantasy novel, is Stardust meets I Am Number Four. I am a member of RWA, SCBWI and the Loft Literary Center. I am also a member of WrAHM, a group of women juggling children while writing, and belong to an active online critique group.


First 250:



The last time I saw my dad, he whispered eleven words into my ear. Take care of your mom, Sage. She’s not strong like us. The nine-year-old me swelled with the responsibility. The seventeen-year-old me sags under the weight. 
His words haunt me as I hesitate on the cracked cement step of my front porch. Voices buzz from inside, growing like an approaching swarm of angry bees.
“What the hell?” Ken’s rough voice thunders through the door. His feet slam across the floorboards followed by my mom’s cries echoing through the walls.
Not this again. Not today.
“No…no…no…I’m so sorry.” My mom begs as I step back from the door. Two years ago, I stood here while boyfriend number five, my ninth grade math teacher, was discovered in my mom’s bedroom by his wife. When the yelling reached the porch, I ducked into the thick leafy bushes beneath the living room window with my fingers in my ears. But that was an early fall day. Now, the scrawny bare branches with only a handful of April buds can’t conceal my pinkie. There will be no hiding.
“Sorry? You’re sorry?” Ken growls. A daddy longlegs inches down the door halting at the bottom of the door frame beneath the dent left by boyfriend number two.
“Ken, please. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
I take another step back. Their voices begin to shake through the door. Here comes the screaming.

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