Title: SON OF A (HIRED) GUN
Genre: YA Contemp
Word count: 88,000
Yesterday, sixteen-year-old Bixby Darwin was Simon Rook.
Today, he has a new name and a new home, courtesy of Witness Protection.
Yesterday, he was avoiding the get-to-know-my-son lunch his mother set up with her new boyfriend.
Today, said boyfriend is dead, victim of a bombing at his flower shop.
Yesterday, Bix suspected the boyfriend was a terrorist.
Today, Bix learns his absentee father is an assassin.
Now, he’s a little concerned about what tomorrow will bring.
In my 88,000 word YA Contemp novel, Son Of A (Hired) Gun, 16-year-old Bixby Darwin’s life is thrown into a state of flux when he’s relocated him to a small town with big secrets. Secrets that could get him or someone close to him killed.
“Simon,” Mom calls down the hall to me. “If you make us any later I’ll—.”
“I’m ready.” Heading her off, I save my latest blog.
You’d think we were having lunch with someone more important than her latest boyfriend. Now that she’s reached the critical get-to-know-my-son juncture in this relationship, she’s a little on edge. Or ready to jump off one.
I take out my phone and tweet. @Simonsays: Lunch at Melting Pot with Omar. Rather stay home than break bread (and dip it) with Mom’s florist/terrorist boyfriend.
Jury’s still out on whether Omar is actually a terrorist but it does make good blogging and tweeting. It’s not like anyone takes me seriously anyway. That’s kind of the problem when you’re sixteen and look like you’re twelve.
“Simon?” Mom’s yell borders on hysteria. “You’ve got to stop calling him a terrorist.”
“I can’t help it if I think he’s a terrorist.” Although last week, after I heard him talking Russian, I was pretty sure he was KGB.Turns out he’s a Croatian-Arab hybrid who speaks four languages fluently. Mom calls him worldly, I call him suspicious.
“What if he reads it? What’s he going to think?” Mom watches me in the mirror as she touches up her eye gook.
“Mom,” I meet her gaze in the mirror. “That’s assuming he reads more English than plutonium rich.”
Mom bites back a laugh, her mouth forming a heart. “He is not a terrorist.”
Notice she didn’t say he could read.