QK Round 2: Kicking Ash vs. Spirit Slayer

Entry Nickname: Kicking Ash
Title: Earth to Earth
Word count: 62,500
Genre: NA Fantasy

Query:
“It’s done.”

Part of 23-year-old Hailey Crane unraveled when, Ash, her boyfriend, whispered those words with his dying breath. Now, years later, she’s hanging on by a thread. And that thread is just about to break.

Desperate to escape her status as the “town tragedy,” Hailey moves to a new town. For a new start. But just as Hailey is learning to move on, she starts seeing things.

No, not things. Him. Ash. Everywhere she turns, she could swear she catches a glimpse of him—that worn leather jacket, the hair that always fell into his eyes…

It’s impossible. A figment of her imagination. A mysterious doppelganger. Hailey runs through every possibly explanation. But she’s convinced he’s real. By the time she meets him face to face and figures out the truth behind his miraculous resurrection, she’s thrown herself into a dangerous game of cat and mouse that could kill them both. For good this time.

First 250 Words:

The moment glass shatters is actually quite beautiful. The way the center splinters and spiders out before bursting into nothing. Not many people really get the chance to appreciate the magnificence because everything happens instantly. So quick that you blink and it’s already done. But when you’re convinced you’re about to die, the world tends to move in slow motion.

I don’t see whatever makes him jerk the wheel violently to the left. The smell of burnt rubber assaults my nose as my body slams hard against the restraint of the seat belt. The car spins and rockets towards the guardrail. As we plow through the hunk of metal, the car tilts as gravity jerks me to the earth.

I gaze over to the driver’s side, expecting to hear my boyfriend scream. A cry. Something. There is nothing but silence as he stares back at me, sporting a perfectly calm expression. No panic, no fear.

My head snaps forward as we hit the ground and roll. Once. Twice. The third time the glass of the windshield shatters, starting as the tiniest crack before imploding into a thousand tiny particles.

I hold my arms up to shield myself a moment before the impact knocks the wind out of me, leaving me gasping for air. I’m slipping away, surrendering to the darkness. Dying. My body goes limp, numb to shield itself from the agony. A strange haze clouds my eyesight, but I’m convinced a dark shadow swoops down in front of me.

Versus

Entry Nickname: Spirit Slayer
Title: No Such Thing
Word count: 60,000
Genre: YA Southern Gothic

Query:

It’s easy to overlook an old house being reclaimed by the woods; it’s a common sight near Candor, North Carolina, where seventeen-year-old Virginia “Dare” Cleaster lives with her family. But on a sweaty summer night, Dare and her ex-boyfriend Bobby unintentionally wake something sinister that’s been dormant in the crumbling Waters residence for years, and it refuses to be ignored.

Dare doesn’t believe in ghosts, but the tragic spirit of Atheleen Waters appearing to her all over town quickly changes her mind. As Dare and her friends are drawn into the mystery surrounding Atheleen’s life and untimely death, it soon becomes clear that she isn’t a troubled apparition seeking closure. She’s a twisted killer driven mad by love, and death hasn’t made her the least bit remorseful for her crimes.

Now Dare must figure out how to lay her powerful spirit to rest before Atheleen can add to the body count she began over a hundred and fifty years ago.

First 250 words:

When I was little, I believed in everything. I thought aliens, Bigfoot, the Tooth Fairy, and even the cartoon mascots from cereal boxes were out in the world somewhere, driving cars and wearing suits to work like men I saw on TV.

I had a big imagination because I lived in a small town where most of the men I knew didn’t even own a suit.

The two men sharing a booth in the old café were as well-dressed as they came in Candor. Nothing too fancy, but at least they wore neatly pressed uniforms.

As I watched from behind the counter, wiping crumbs from the surface with my rag, the sheriff stared down at his untouched plate of bacon and eggs. He poked them with his fork as if expecting them to spring to life and attack him at any moment.

“Somethin’ wrong with your food, sir?” I said. My voice carried across the empty room. The sheriff and his deputy were pushing the limits of common courtesy by keeping us open past eleven-thirty on a Friday night.

“Huh?” Sheriff Thompson grunted, looking up.

I weaved between tables with practiced ease to reach their window-side booth in a flash. “Look. I know the bacon’s probably too crisp for most folks’ taste. But if you don’t want it, I’ll eat it. Mr. Forrester’d be happy to make you somethin’ else.”

I gave them a smile and tugged my apron down. It stopped several inches above my knees, but it was still longer than the skimpy cutoffs I’d worn to my shift.