Title: BROKEN IN BLUE
Genre: YA Contemporary Fantasy
Word Count: 80,000
A seventeen year old girl with synaesthesia must come to terms with the true nature of her condition and use it to fight the legendary “once and future king”—King Arthur himself. BROKEN IN BLUE is an 80,000 word YA contemporary fantasy in which LE MORTE D’ARTHUR meets GOSSIP GIRL.
Rhi might be weird—she feels in color—but synaesthesia isn’t the worst of her problems. Rhi wouldn’t mind being different if someone other than her best friend would notice she was alive. Even her mom barely seems to register her existence. But when Rhi is attacked by a watery demi-goddess, she discovers that her mother was once the Lady of the Lake and that beings of myth and legend are real—and suddenly very interested in her and the power her colors represent.
When her very first date ever ends in a battle with a hellhound, Rhi instinctively uses her colors to destroy it and is recruited into a magical task force whose only aim is to prevent an impending doom:
The return of King Arthur.
Because apparently being locked in a deathless sleep for a few hundred years isn’t enough to dissuade the most powerful king ever born from trying to take over the world.
To stop him, Rhi will need to master her colors and use them to remake Excalibur. However, as her abilities grow and she discovers the truth about who she really is, Rhi must choose which world she belongs to—this one or the world of magic she is heir to.
Rhi is finally getting noticed—and it might just kill her. But the choices bound in color and magic are never black and white.
I am a member of SCBWI, The Writers Community of Durham Region, YALITCHAT, and Canadian Actors Equity.
Fear is white edged and thickly veined with an ugly sea-green.
Mom was gone.
When I was little, Mom was afraid of a man with silver hair. I saw him once across a busy street and Mom pulled me tight against her chest where the sound of her heart was a wave crashing against rocks. That fear crept out of her chest, crawled through my ear, and made its way down to my own wildly beating heart to take up permanent residence.
Rhiannon, listen to me, we cannot be seen. Hide in the shadows and be still and silent.
And as she held me, the fear broke apart inside me like ice floating on a treacherous ocean and all the colors of my emotions erupted out of it.
When I was older, I tried to tell Mom about the colors I felt, but she just smiled and looked away. I didn’t try again. Besides, everyone has something crazy going on if you look close enough. I was probably lucky that all I had were colors in my head and a stalker father. And yes, I knew the man was my father, but I was as invisible to him that day as I am to everyone else. Sometimes I think it would be nice to be seen. I’m sure my synaesthesia would be pretty interesting to some psychiatrist bored with the usual budding Unabombers.