Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Word Count: 88,000
Nothing can make a new school suck worse than discovering the guy you’re in love with is your prophesied nemesis.
Ari is the most powerful flame-throwing sorceress ever, and her people’s last hope in an ancient war. But emotionally, she’s a huge wreck, hating who she is and what she is supposed to do. She’s searching for that one death that will mean anything in the face of a thousand fruitless killings. In her free, not-hunting-nemesis times, she jumps from school to school, trying figure out regular people her own age and pretending she’ll get the chance to graduate.
Shane lives a double life. He goes to school and masters the art of popularity, hiding the fact that he has a destiny with only a slim chance of his survival. He’s destined to end a 300 year-old war by killing or being killed. He knows he’s hunted by a powerful enemy who’s not afraid to die. Only problem? He has no idea who that enemy is.
When Ari shows up at Shane’s school, angry and sullen and determined to keep him at arm’s reach, neither of them realize they are supposed to be killing each other, not falling in love. Until Ari does realize it.
And Shane tries to kill her.
Feudlings is a young adult urban fantasy novel able to stand alone or with a sequel, complete at 88,000 words.
Arianna Delacour thunked her black duffle bag at the foot of her bed, wondering if she should even bother unpacking. This was her 16th boarding school. Sixteen in nine years, but it would have been more if she hadn’t been home schooled until third grade. That was when the Family started sending her out to hunt.
She shoved the thought away, jumping to a safer one. Wrong life. She had to focus on this life now. She was about to start her senior year, and she really wanted to graduate. So, determined that this be her last boarding school, she started unpacking.
“Who are you?” a high pitched voice demanded behind her.
Ari didn’t turn to investigate. “Arianna Delacour. Who are you?”“This is my room,” the voice said. Ari thought it over, decided there was nothing to respond to, and continued unpacking. “I said, this is my room.”