Entry 5: The Warrior Within
Query:
My f/f paranormal romance The Warrior Within is 113k words and is comparable to a cross between Charlaine Harris’ Southern Vampire series and Alexandra Ivy’s Guardians of Eternity.
Libby struggles with a debilitating disease[JD1] and is resigned to singlehood. When she goes out one evening with co-workers, the last thing she expects is to stumble into the woman of her dreams. As she falls in love with Jo, a 150-year-old half-vampire from France’s Ancien Regime, Libby comes to recognize her inner worth.
But Jo has powerful enemies, including her vampire father. Libby discovers upon entering Jo’s world that she must rely upon her courage in order to survive. A character-driven novel that ramps up into dangerous thrills, The Warrior Within teaches Libby that she already has everything she needs in order to survive seeming insurmountable odds[JD2].
“Fans of Sookie Stackhouse and A Discovery of Witches will love this romantic page turner.” Christy English, author of How to Tame a Willful Wife and How to Wed a Warrior from Sourcebooks Casablanca.
A trilogy is planned[JD3]. Book 2, A Warrior for Her is in revisions. I also have a spinoff novel roughly 50% completed starring a wolf shifter introduced in Book 2. At least two additional books are taking form in my mind. One may stand alone, or they could both have a tie into the series.
[JD2] I don’t have a good indication of what the plot is based on this query letter.
First 250 words:
Bobbing my head to the hypnotic beat, I make my way around the dance floor, drinking in the mass of sweat-slicked bodies writhing under flickering strobe lights[JD4]. There is some serious eye candy here tonight. Carefully, I continue along the long side of the L-shaped bar to the hall leading to a single stall bathroom, counting on a shorter line. Don’t ask me why there’s only one stall– but most people opt for the larger bathrooms on the other side of the dance floor. To entertain myself in line, I face the greater room. My body sways slightly to the beat. Damn, I miss dancing. I wish…
No sense getting caught up in wishing.
But the thought sours my enjoyment of watching the dancers. I turn my attention to the people clustered around the bar, entertaining myself with the gay or nay game. Okay, maybe it isn’t a real game. I guess whether I think each person is gay or not[JD5]. It isn’t a very politically correct game, I admit, but it amuses me. HoneyBears is famous for cheap drinks and amazing music so they draw huge mixed crowds every weekend. So, even though they bill themselves as a gay night club, there’s certainly no guarantee that everyone here identifies as such.
Visually, I make my way down the bar, noting to myself gay or nay, while balancing on the cane as I keep the rhythm. My eyes snag on the sexiest butch I’ve ever seen. My mouth goes dry
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