Title: SON OF A (HIRED) GUN
Genre: YA Contemp
Word Count: 92,000
Yesterday, Bix was Simon Rook.
Today he's Bixby Darwin.
Yesterday, Bix was avoiding the get-to-know-my-son lunch his mother insisted on having with her current boyfriend, Omar.
Today, Omar is blown up along with his shop.
Yesterday, Bix suspected Omar was a terrorist.
Today, Bix learns his absentee father is an assassin.
Now, he’s a little concerned about what tomorrow will bring.
In my novel, Son Of A (Hired) Gun, 16-year-old Bixby Darwin’s life is thrown into a state of flux when Witness Protection relocates him to small town with big secrets. Secrets that could get him or someone close to him killed.
I have imaginary conversations with my dad.
Some people call it blogging. But seeing as he abandoned us when I was still incubating, it’s the one way I have to tell him about my day, my thoughts, my life. I imagine that he stumbles across my blog, Simon Says, and realizes that this Simon—this short but witty sixteen-year-old—is the son he left without a trace.
I like to think he regrets this loss. I like to think —
“Simon,” Mom calls down the hall to me. “If you make us any later I’ll—.”
“I’m ready.” Heading her off, I save my latest blog.
You’d think we were having lunch with someone more important than her latest boyfriend. Now that she’s reached the critical get-to-know-my-son juncture in this relationship, she’s a little on edge. Or ready to jump off one.
I take out my phone and tweet. @Simonsays: Lunch at Melting Pot with Omar. Rather stay home than break bread (and dip it) with Mom’s florist/terrorist boyfriend.
Jury’s still out on whether Omar is actually a terrorist but it does make good blogging and tweeting. It’s not like anyone takes me seriously anyway. That’s kind of the problem when you’re sixteen and look like you’re twelve.
“Simon?” Mom’s yell borders on hysteria. “You’ve got to stop calling him a terrorist.”
“I can’t help it if I think he’s a terrorist.” Although last week, after I heard him talking Russian, I was pretty sure he was KGB.