Title: THE DESCENT OF CHRIS CHAPPELL
Genre: YA Paranormal Fantasy
Word Count: 87,000
Chris Chappell is doomed to life as a Norm--a normal 17-year-old, that is--until his wizard father develops an amulet that grants even the most un-magical of people wizard powers. After years of being the family pariah, Chris has the power he always wanted and his father is finally proud of him.
Since Chris is finally a wizard, he's eligible to attend Southeast Paranormal High School with his siblings and best friend, Jeremy. At Para High, popularity and power are intrinsically linked, and after Chris saves his classmates from attack by a vicious spirit, he takes his place as the most popular student at the school.
When Jeremy discovers Chris's powers are unnatural, he demands that Chris give up the amulet, because it puts Chris outside of Para law as he is technically still a Norm. But Chris will not go back to his previous life: being a reject in his own family and a second-class citizen. With the amulet he's the most powerful wizard to ever live, and he will do whatever it takes to keep his power.
After all, what's a little mind control between friends?
THE DESCENT OF CHRIS CHAPPELL is a villain origin story told from two viewpoints. It is a standalone with series potential.
My shoulders hunch under the weight of my backpack as I near the front door, and I tighten my grip on my trumpet case. I shouldn’t stress. Odds are no one will notice me slipping into the house. Dad’s probably in the basement. Mom’s car isn’t even here so she must be at work. And the twins know better than to get me in trouble—especially about this.
And yet my heart beats unevenly. At this moment, I would sell my soul for the ability to know if anyone stood on the other side of the door.
I reach for the knob, but the door opens before I touch it. I stumble back. My father stares down at me with his magical, silver eyes, catching my gaze before I can look away.
At first my dad’s expression is worried, but then a scowl replaces fatherly concern. His hand shoots out, pulling me inside before I can think to protest.
“Chris! Why aren’t you wearing your contacts?” he demands, the door slamming shut magically behind me. I imagine a normal father would show concern about my bloodshot eyes, questioning whether I’m getting enough sleep, if something is stressing me, or if I’m on drugs. Not my father. His only concern is that people might have seen my normal, gray eyes. That someone might know the truth he’s so carefully hidden for over a year now.
I am not a wizard.