Team CupidsLC #9 - MONSTROUS

Title: MONSTROUS

Genre: YA Fantasy

Word Count: 82,000

Query:

Most people remember their first crush, first kiss, and first day of

school. Kymera remembers none of that.

But she will never forget her first breath.

When Father recreates her from the parts of her broken body, the wings

of a raven, the tail of serpent, and a cat’s razor-sharp vision, he

gives her life without memories or pain.

But not without a mission.

Kymera knows who murdered her. A wizard in the city of Bryre who is

sacrificing the girls of the countryside one by one. He is monstrous

and now Father has created a monster to stop him.

Kymera sneaks into Bryre each night, rescuing the captive girls and

doing her best to avoid the city’s human inhabitants. Then one night

she meets Ren, the king’s page boy, and her resolve weakens. Her

nightly missions take on a dual purpose—save the other girls and steal

a few moments with the boy who has yet to see her without her cloak.

As she lingers each night, Kymera begins to overhear things: a snide

remark about Father, rumors of a hideous beast, and whisperings of a

black market dealing solely in live, human goods. Ever since that

first breath, she’s known exactly who she is, but now she’s forced to

ask who is the real monster here—the wizard, her father, or worse,

herself?

First Page:

DAY ONE

I will never forget my first breath. Gasping. Heaving. Delicious.

When I opened my eyes, the colors of the world swarmed me, filling up

all space with hues and objects for which I had no name.

Three seconds later, I passed out from sensory overload, or at least

that is what Father says. He fixed me up and when I woke the second

time, the world became a more comprehensible place. The object

hovering over me was a face, the circles within it were eyes, and the

warm, wet drips leaking from them were tears.

The crease across the bottom that widened under my gaze was a smile.

“You’re alive,” Father said.

Even now, hours later, he mutters it still.

DAY TWO

I lean back against the willow and hold out my arms, studying them

under the waning sunlight. The thin red lines marking the sections of

my body have faded to nearly nothing. All that remains are the many

shades of my flesh and the tiny metal bolts fastening tail to spine,

joint to wing, and neck to shoulder.

Father, his silver hair flapping in the summer breeze, lays out logs

and strange metal pipes in the field. They will be used for my

training. He has not told me what I am training for, only that he will

when I am ready. He waves when he notices me watching.

I am sure I will be ready soon. Father is astonished at my progress.

Yesterday, I mastered walking within one hour, running in two, and now

I can even jump to the lowest branch of the willow with ease.