Trick or Treat #D5 – Hope in Bloom

Title: Hope in Bloom
Category: YA
Genre: Contempora​ry
Word Count: 72,000

Pitch: When eighteen-year-old Mallory sees her boyfriend’s lips attached to another girl’s at the end-of-summer party, she loses the last bit of happiness in her troubled life. Desperate for a moment of hope, she decides playing the lottery is the ticket to erasing the misery that surrounds her at home and at school. And although her plan delivers the joy of a picture-perfect fantasy world, Mallory’s real life grows more problematic with each new set of numbers.

Question 1: In your MC's voice, what costume character do you relate most to and why?

You know when Charlie Brown goes trick-or-treating, and every time he looks in his bag he can only say, “I got a rock”? Well, that’s me; I’m Charlie Brown.

Question 2: As an author, what makes your manuscript a tasty treat (aka marketable/unique)?

The tastiness in my story lies in its intriguing concept of a girl playing the lottery. The treats are the lottery fantasies that pop up each time she buys a new set of tickets.

First 200 Words:

Every girl needs a good luck charm. Mine was a shirt, emerald green with rainbow embroidery along the neckline. I was convinced that magic lived in every thread. My boyfriend Ben said it was the shirt I had on the day he fell in love with me. I'd also worn it the day I found out I’d finally made the varsity cheerleading squad and the day I’d gotten my first ‘A’on a pre-calculus test. It was definitely a lucky shirt, and I would’ve worn it to the party that night if only it had been clean.

“Hurry up!” I tapped my foot impatiently, looking back at my friends who were moving at a snail’s pace up the walkway.

Sara, Taylor, and Nicole were gossiping about something, but I had zero interest in their conversation. My heart somersaulted in anticipation of seeing Ben. He left for college a month ago, and I missed him. A lot. I missed that fresh-from-the-dryer smell of the sweatshirt he always let me wear. And the taste and feel of his soft lips when he kissed me at the end of our dates. And most of all, I missed his smile, that special treasure that could always melt away my troubles.

1 comment:

  1. Not a fan of the title, but I am a fan of the concept. A bag of fuzzy peaches!


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