Thursday, April 17, 2014

Nest Pitch TM3 Hair of the Dog

Category/Genre: Adult Contemporary Fantasy
Word Count: 70,000

Pitch: Beckoned by the Wild Hunt, Thierry must decide if she’s half-human or half-fae, because she’s in a whole lot of trouble and the person who can save her has dark ambitions that might destroy them.

If the MC was an Easter egg... Cadbury cream. Hard outer shell, sweet center. I look like one thing, but I’m another.

Flaming red hair. Check. Pasty white skin. Double check. Breath like a slaughterhouse in July… I wrinkled my nose. Yep. Houston, we have a troll sighting. It wasn’t illegal to be Unseelie in Texas, as long as you had permission from the Seelie High Court to be there, but tearing the curtain between the faerie realm and the mortal realm so you could slide through and snack on the defenseless locals?

That was a capital offense in both realms, and it earned you a visit from someone like me.

Plus murder made me cranky. I was half-human after all.

Bodies were thicker than usual here in the backstreets of Wink, Texas. A hard elbow sank in my ribs and sent my gaze rolling over the shuffling crowd. Laughter prickled my ears. Yeah. Real funny. Pick on the liaison. Damn sprites. The teeny terrors were the fae equivalent of mosquitoes, and Wink was infested. That flicker of inattention cost me precious seconds and let the troll gain more ground.

I tugged on the lip of my glove from habit then tightened my grip on my satchel and kept going.

Magic writhed in the humid air, its bright-sharp scent fresher than what made me comfortable.

Full moons really brought out the crazies, which explained why the town’s singular attraction, a licensed Unseelie bazaar, bustled with more patrons tonight than most hawkers saw inside of a week.

There were two basic types of magic. Innate magic, natural magic a creature was born with, and it burned clean. Acquired magic was another beast. It called for herbs and Words and Will, and little good ever came of it. Most acquired magic practitioners were humans, mortals, and the last thing any short-lived race needed was a means of getting themselves in trouble with any of the long-lived ones.

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