AN Villasante
BookEnd
YA Fantasy
I: The Farm
Chapter 1
It’s early, before dawn, but at the bakery everyone’s been up for hours. I stand where I always stand, down the alley in back, opposite her window and out of sight. I want to see her before she can see me, before I go in and buy the morning bread and a cinnamon knot for Story. Story got another tooth last night and needs something to gnaw on while I finish whittling her teething ring. But the bakery isn’t open yet and I need to see Jane first, get over her loveliness before talking to her. I don’t want to sound like a stunt-brained QR, or worse, like a little kid.
Right on time, Jane pushes the window out on its hinge and rests her chin on her hands. She always looks up, never down to where I am. I think maybe she’s looking at the last of the night stars as they fade, but she could just as easily be looking at the early morning clouds, judging the weather.
Jane is smart. She knows things about the stars and the
weather and the world that I don’t know. Though she’s the baker’s daughter now, before she came to BookEnd she was something else.
Andrea Mack
Title: The Grand Chef's Apprentice
Genre: Middle grade, dystopian
With her hand tight on her gathering bag, Maya slipped out of the forest to a grassy place beside the city wall and took a deep sniff. She caught a spicy-sweet scent, a mixture of herbs, honey, and something else. What was it? If only she could go inside for a taste. She took another breath, but the breeze changed, filling her nose with the sour stench of rot. Huldi! She was supposed to be scrounging. Darting back into the trees, she raced for the Heap. She couldn’t be late. Since she’d turned thirteen, scavenging trash was her job.
When she reached the edge of the Heap, the doors in the stone wall across the sludge were still closed. She’d made it. Still watching the doors, Maya crept in the shadow of a tall shrub. A fly buzzed around her head, but she didn’t let go of her bag. She wasn’t about to let a thief take advantage of her small size.
The ground trembled as the doors clanged open. The trash machine rolled out, its giant black wheels grinding on the rusty track as it brought the enormous metal bin outside the city walls. Around Maya, people edged closer, ready to pounce.
Angela Cothran
Title: THE ALABASTER REFUGEE
Genre: YA Adventure/Romance
Jocelyn lay flat—her stomach pressed to the earth and the chill from the ground seeped into her skin. Was it the cold or the fear making her skin rise in angry goose bumps?
I’m trapped! She swallowed her panic in breathless gulps. From under the overgrown bush, she could see the path straight ahead. It’s too late. I didn’t get far enough. With guards chasing her, Jocelyn had two options—run or hide.
She chose the latter.
Now she waited.
The ruthless pursuit moved closer to her with each shallow breath. Jocelyn reached her hand to her neck and let her fist close around a broken locket—its jagged face cut into her flesh. I’m still alive, the pain reminded her. She willed herself to remain still, fighting her every screaming instinct to—Run! Run! Run!
The earth throbbed as boots hit the ground in a chaotic cadence.
They’re here! Jocelyn’s body stiffened.
Around the guard’s torches, the night air cracked and popped with loud complaints. She could hear them disturbing the dense vegetation bordering the well-worn trail—moving in efficient calculated patterns.
“Any sign?” A guard bellowed.
“Not yet, Sir.”
“Keep looking. She can’t have gone far.”
Christine Danek
Title: Lingering Souls
Genre: Young Adult science fiction
The little brown pill bottle that sits on the counter is the best birthday present I could ever give myself. It sits next to the bottles of my mom’s vodka. The bottles seem so sleek and elegant compared to the stumpy, pill bottle, yet they look like a compatible pair.
Sweat drips down the center of my back. The July heat wave is becoming unbearable. Since the air conditioner died, the windows are wide open. Not that it helps in air as thick as mud; in fact it’s only letting more in. I’d rather them closed so maybe I can suffocate by accident instead of a self inflicted death, but my decision is made.
A white moth flutters around the light on the fan above me. Every time the moth hits the light, an annoying ping interrupts the silence. My conscious has played tricks on me all day, controlling my motions and decisions. Gazing around the room everything takes on a yellow haze. I glance down through blurry tears. The edges of a picture I’ve been holding for hours seem fuzzy and worn. Just like me. Nothing’s clear and all signs point to exiting my existence.
My cell buzzes. I ignore it. Don’t want to talk to anyone.
Lindy
Title: Bound
Genre: YA Paranormal Fantasy
I see the note right away, perched on top of an avalanche of textbooks and binders that threaten to tumble out when I open the door. Delivered in the same fashion as the ones before it—slipped through the thin grate at the top of my locker. Also, like the others, the cruel words inside fail to match its unassuming pink envelope.
Do us all a favor and kill yourself.
The scent of Abby’s favorite perfume rolls off the page, thick and sweet, nauseating. This time my old ‘friend’ hasn’t bothered to disguise her handwriting. I look down the hall to find her staring my way, face bright with anticipation. She’s at her locker with her latest best friend, Maddy, by her side. When our eyes make contact she grins, and then leans to whisper in Maddy’s ear. Maddy quickly looks in my direction, expressionless.
I notice they're dressed for tonight's game. With that same vindictive smile in place, Abby fiddles with the captain's pin she has hooked to her red and gray cheerleading uniform. The same pin I used to wear till I returned it to Coach last October, walking away from that part of my life.
Lisa Chickos
THE MERMAID GENE
YA Urban Fantasy
The dolphin twists sideways in my arms. Eyeing me through one widened, gleaming black eye, she opens her blowhole and gurgles. Her voice sounds breathless and weak, and the tips of her flukes feel hot against my fingertips.
“What are you waiting for, Kai? Tighten up on her, or she’s gonna bolt.” My father’s warning booms from a nearby research vessel as I struggle for footing in the tea-stained waters of Tampa Bay. “Do it quick; she’s baiting you.”
The concern in his voice sends a fresh wave of anxiety grinding through me, and I wrinkle my nose in protest as I realize the truth of his words. Growing up watching him perform countless catch-and-release medical exams just like this one, I know researchers only have four, maybe five seconds to restrain a bottlenose dolphin before it fights back and escapes capture.
Wrapped around this animal’s tail, I should follow protocol by pulling her flukes into my chest and bracing myself for her inevitable thrashing in the shallows. Instead, I find myself lost in her plaintive, lucid eye contact. Her pupils, shrunk into tiny circles in the sunlight, roll back and forth as she cranes her head, and a shallow scar splits the silvery bulge of her forehead.
***
Lora Rivera
DARK METTLE
YA Thriller & Urban Fantasy
Ava flattened her body against a wall, peering sideways into the vaulted living room beyond. It was gray and desolate, just like all the other rooms -- empty but for the shift of air and streak of chalky dust slowly resettling over the concrete floor.
A snake of ash-brown hair had come loose from her braid. It tickled the back of her neck and she fought the urge to scratch. Soon now. Melissa Carter was doing far better than Ava had expected or even hoped. True, she didn't think her foster sister would need ninja stealth skills as a rule. But just in case . . . Just in case Ava wasn’t there someday . . .
You can do this, Mel. She held her breath and heard nothing but a dull wind gust against loose shingles. Her muscles tightened. Then she slinked like a shadow through the stale gloom.
With roof and walls but no electricity, the abandoned house was dark even at late afternoon. She slowed near one of the far windows that was only partially boarded up by plywood. Here. Treacherously, her fingers leapt for the switchblade she usually kept in her back pocket.
Lori M Lee
Title: Soul Without a Boy
Genre: YA urban fantasy
On his thirteenth lap around the block, London Howell spotted the monster watching him. It was crouched against the wooden post of a neighbor's mailbox, little more than a shadow with large-knuckled fingers that raked at empty air.
London stifled a groan. Sprinting through his neighborhood at midnight was annoying enough without an unwanted audience. He stopped to catch his breath beneath a lamppost, his hand braced against the cool iron.
The monster across the street moved, shifting on spindly legs that trembled like branches in a storm. Its eyes glowed in the dim evening.
London had learned that if he ignored them hard enough, eventually, they went away. Didn't help his doubts about his sanity, but at least it had worked. But they'd been showing up more frequently in recent weeks, and the watching thing was new. Pretending something wasn't there was a lot harder when it was staring at him.
His mobile vibrated in his back pocket and, with a glance at the screen, he picked up.
"You sound like a goat on the rack," Amun said in greeting.
"How," London asked between breaths, "do you know what a tortured goat sounds like?"
PK Hezro
X Dare & The Keys to Nin
MG sci-fi / fantasy
I’d take video games over real life any day.
The reason is simple: at age thirteen I’ve learned a lot about people, and even more about girls. Like how, even if they look bad, you’re supposed to say they look good; and how they whisper a lot and like to keep secrets. I know, because my entire life revolves around the girls in my family. Video games are less complicated, and when it comes down to a challenge between a game or my mom, I know I can beat the game.
“Oh, it’s so cute!” Mom says, grinning down at Veronica and making the little lines around her eyes smile too.
I let out an annoyed sigh—the kind that says I’m losing my patience. Clothes shopping with my mom and little sister is ranked right up there with taking all day exams and doing chores for no allowance. Mom’s been fussing over Veronica for the last hour. Like she doesn’t have enough clothes already.
Veronica beams, looking up from her wheelchair. She holds a bubblegum pink dress up, hiding her long blonde pig tails. Her eyes are twice their size through her bifocal glasses. “Can we get it, Mom?”
Robin Weeks
Title: GEAS
Genre: YA Fantasy
Brina knew better than to go out in public looking less than her questionable best.
She knew it, but figured hurrying home for her mother’s birthday party deserved a special endowment of luck. She didn’t even grow to human size first. Instead, she left her purse and car keys with her best friend Moira and launched herself out the palace window into the sweltering air of San Antonio, Texas.
The first flash came from her left and, like an idiot, she twisted toward it. Which is how the photographer’s zoom lens caught her: eyes opened wide, long braid slicked back from her face with her own sweat, and limbs sticking out at startled angles from her workout tank and short-shorts. All of it glowing softly brown in the dusk.
As a special bonus, the magazine’s cover photo had captured the moment her four bright white wings froze in shock, sending her plummeting a few feet downward. The resulting portrait could have been entitled “Freak, Falling” but instead the headline proclaimed: “Human-Pixie Hybrids: The Last American Taboo.” That worked, too.
Naturally, the cover was taped to her locker first thing Tuesday morning. It hadn’t been torn carefully, and a jagged gash ripped halfway through Brina’s right wing.
