Title: SOUTHERN GYPSY
Genre: YA Paranormal
Word Count: 54,000
Sixteen-year-old Gypsy Rawnie Stevens spent months fantasizing about her first kiss with Seth Carlson, but the second their lips touch she has a vision of his future murder.
With her mom MIA on the carnival circuit and her grandmother unwilling to mention the word gypsy, Rawnie seeks help from her BFF to research some answers. Armed with an endless supply of sweet tea and mad skills that could make Bill Gates blush, Jenny is the only person in their ultra-conservative southern town that believes in the Stevens family craft.
While the premonitions continue, Rawnie is stunned when someone actually sees her in one. After tracking down the life-long carny Bode in real life, he leaves her with more questions than answers. Not sure if it’s a result of his elusive lifestyle or if he’s truly keeping secrets from her Rawnie can’t bring herself to trust him, but he’s the only one with any insight into the gypsy culture and her gift.
Determined to stop her boyfriend’s murder by finding out when it will happen and who’s behind it, Rawnie continues to dig up her family’s past. When she learns that Seth is only a pawn and she’s the real target, she must find a way to save them both without exposing her secret-the one thing the killer hopes to find.
Most normal sixteen-year-old girls didn’t see their boyfriend’s murder during their first kiss. Unfortunately after locking lips with Seth Carlson, I realized that normal just wasn’t in the cards for me.
After nearly a month of “hanging out,” the perfect ending to our first official date as a couple inched so close I could smell the cherry on his breath from his swizzle stick. Cyndi Lauper squealed in the background about girls wanting their fun while my heart thumped in unison with the pulsing screams of the Tilt-A-Whirl spinning behind us. Seth’s fingers grazed the back of my neck sending rows of goose bumps racing down my arms. I wanted to touch him, but an invisible layer of super glue pinned my hands to my thighs.
He tilted his head slightly causing strands of sandy brown hair to swoop across his forehead. My cheeks burned as his eyes studied every inch of my face before zeroing in on my mouth. I stopped breathing when his arms slipped around my waist locking our bodies together.
What if I was a terrible kisser? Attempting to fight off the fear I decided to go for it. I threw my arms around his neck to hold on for dear life. Sadly, when I dove forward I managed to plant my lips directly on his neck, missing his mouth by at least six inches. Forget the passionate Scarlett O’Hara-Rhett Butler moment I fantasized about, the still-frame of my first kiss belonged in the dictionary under the word choke.