Bouncer Post #114

Title: EMBROL

Genre: YA Sci-fi/romance

Word Count: 80,000

Query:

Seventeen-year-old Olivia Ryan knows her grief has finally broken her when two boys she’s only met in her dreams show up at her mom’s funeral.

Jack, the boy she’s been kissing in her dreams, is a welcome distraction. But when she finds out he’s not only real, but he was driving the truck that killed her mom, she just wants to forget he ever existed. His claim that, like him, she’s a member of a powerful alien race, the antecedents to humans, only seals her desire to push him away.

Kole, the boy from her nightmares, has no interest in kissing her. Not yet, anyway. In his demented alien mind, Olivia is the reincarnated daughter of the universe’s creator. He believes if he can control her in the dream world, he’ll have unlimited access to her power—a massive force hidden within the earth more than 75,000 years ago. He plans to use that power to hijack the universe. And of course, when he’s done with that, she can take her place by his side as queen. Clearly, he’s a total nut job, but even if he’s the sanest man in the galaxy, Olivia’s sure he has the wrong girl. Jack and Kole both do.

But when Kole almost succeeds in trapping Olivia in a dream, she’s forced to choose. She can continue to reject her true self and risk involuntarily destroying the universe with her own hands. Or she can find a way to trust Jack, the only one with the power to protect her and train her to use her abilities. The choice should be simple, but trusting the boy who killed her mom might be beyond the capabilities of even her advanced alien heart.

First 250:

My art teacher says the eyes are the window to the soul. Apparently, I have no soul.

I studied the self-portrait lying on my worktable. Dull, lifeless eyes stared back. Yup, definitely soulless. Next thing I knew, I’d be wandering the streets in search of brains. The stiff paper crumpled beneath my fingers. Why can I draw anyone, anything else, but I can’t draw myself?

Mr. Unrealistic-Expectations—aka my art teacher—was two tables away, making his daily rounds to check everyone’s progress. So what if this was the fourth time I’d started over? This assignment was impossible to complete, and on Friday, when I’d told him as much, he’d said, Olivia, you’ll never survive Pratt with that attitude.

Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t care. Maybe I was tired of living up to my potential.

He reached my table as the bell rang. “You destroyed another one?”

“I’ll work on a new one tonight,” I lied. I shoved all my papers into my portfolio and hopped off my stool. Working on this stupid project was the last thing I intended to do today. Birthdays are supposed to be fun.

Before he could offer his assistance, I shouldered the door open and headed out to the crowded outdoor locker area. I smiled at the heavy clouds overhead, breathing in the damp smell that always accompanied a rainy day in Mesa, Arizona. At least something good was happening today.