Title: SUN STONES
Genre: YA Supernatural Romance
Word Count: 79,000 words
Rebecca and Nathaniel just wanted to be together, that’s why they swore love oaths before becoming mortals. But eighteen earthly years later, nothing has gone according to plan.
Nate’s a homeless high school dropout (not exactly boyfriend material) when he sees a girl he’s immediately drawn to. Rebecca is every guy’s dream: gorgeous, classy, an heiress. She’s way out this bad boy’s league.
Nate isn’t sure if he can win Rebecca over. Nor is he sure why finding Rebecca has suddenly given him the ability to see angels and demons, including Abbadon, a grudge-bearing hellion come to settle an old score.
For guidance and answers, Nate turns to a squad of demon hunters who teach him how to kick demonic ass with their mightiest weapon, a Sun Stone ring. But battling shadowy demons on the soggy Seattle streets is easier than proving he’s good enough for Rebecca. When Abaddon uses Rebecca as bait to lure Nate into the Devil’s lair, Nate must set aside his insecurities and fight to save their lives or it will cost him his soul.
First 250 words:
I’m insane. As crazy as the guy who told everyone the world was going to end, then when his prophesied day passed by without hellfire and brimstone, he predicted another date. Yeah, that crazy.
Yesterday I was in L.A. planning to wow a big shot record producer. Today I’m traveling through a city I never wanted to see again. I’d rather rip a part my guitar string by string than be here, but it’s time to find out who I am.
My decision was made on impulse. While daydreaming of becoming a legendary rock star, I was struck by a thought: What would my E! True Hollywood Story be like? I can’t be famous and have people idolize me if I don’t know who I am. So I bought a bus ticket home.
The Greyhound bus hums as we pass Seattle Center. I look out my window at the Space Needle towering overhead and cringe. I don’t have many Kodak moments from my time here. After Granddad died, I ran away before I could be forced back into a miserable living situation. Willingly returning to my own personal hell can mean only one of two things—I’m masochistic or insane.
Okay, maybe I’m a bit of both.
The bus brakes and grunts to a stop in front of the terminal. My heart thumps like a bass drum in my chest. This is it. Is it safe to be home? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.