Bouncer Post #153

Title: BECOMING JINN

Genre: YA Contemporary Fantasy

Word Count: 78,000 words

Query:

Wishing doesn't make it so, Azra does. Turning sixteen opens the door to Azra’s Jinn ancestry and her new life as a genie. But receiving her powers isn’t exactly what Azra would call a gift. Her destiny is controlled by the powerful Afrit, who rule over the Jinn world, and she must keep her true identity a secret from all but her fellow Jinn. 

Bitter about living a life controlled by others, Azra rebels in the only way she can. She tosses the Jinn handbook aside and wings it. When she forgets the cloaking spell that prevents humans from having any knowledge of the wish — and of her — the sixteen-year-old boy from across the street, Henry, not only becomes five inches taller but Azra’s first real friend. Not having to hide who she is around Henry, Azra finds the joy in being Jinn. As they test the boundaries of her curiously strong magic, Azra continues to flout the Afrit’s rules.

But Azra’s genie mistakes begin to mount, along with the consequences, as she uncovers a secret about the father she has never met, the source of her strong magic, and why the Afrit have been watching her so carefully. If Azra doesn’t accept her life as a genie, the Afrit will punish her by taking away everyone she loves. And if the Afrit find out she outed the Jinn world to a human, her sentence will be jail, but Henry’s just might be death. As Azra uncovers the darker world of becoming Jinn, she realizes when genies and wishes are involved, there’s always a trick.

First 250:

A chisel, a hammer, a wrench. A sander, a drill, a power saw. A laser, a heat gun, a flaming torch. Nothing cuts through the bangle. Nothing I conjure even makes a scratch.

I had to try, just to be sure. But the silver bangle encircling my wrist can’t be removed. It was smart of my mother to secure it in the middle of the night while I was asleep, unable to protest.

Though my Jinn ancestry means magic has always been inside me, the rules don’t allow me to begin drawing upon it until the day I turn sixteen. The day I receive my silver bangle. The day I officially become a genie. Today.

I slam my newly acquired accessory against my bedroom closet, leaving a rounded indent on the wood door. The pristine, gleaming metal mocks me. For the rest of my life, I’ll go where I’m told, perform on command, and do it all without question. 

Screw that.

Barefooted, I can’t kick the pile of tools without impaling myself. I settle for shoving the saw and catch a reflection of myself in the blade. Right, how could I forget? I race to my bathroom and fling open the door. At the mirror, I inspect all the ways my body has been altered while my mind was unable to resist. 

Always lanky, my form is now a study in angles. My cheekbones protrude like a shelf, the bones on my hips jut out, and my elbows are sharp like a sword. This is supposed to be attractive? I could double as the skeleton of a svelte supermodel.