Title: HURRICANE DAUGHTER
Word Count: 74,000
Farmer’s daughter and southern heartbreaker, seventeen-year old Daisy has kept her friendship with Beau Cooper hidden from everyone, but these days her steady and sure cowboy from the wrong side of the swamp is busy keeping his own secrets. Daisy, armed only with her stubborn heart, pushes her way into his hidden life and consequences blow away like dandelion seeds as their connection intensifies into a deep, desperate love. A Southern Gothic YA romance, HURRICANE DAUGHTER is a funny, heartbreaking contemporary that sounds a little like an old country ballad about the crash and burn of falling in love when your world is falling apart.
Question 1: In your MC’s voice, what costumed character do you relate most to and why?
I’ll be one of those Greek goddesses who shoot lightning at people and turn jerk guys into goats. I’ll even wear the bed sheet dress—with my cowboy boots, of course.
Question 2: As an author, what makes your manuscript a tasty treat (aka unique/marketable)?
I cut my teeth on explosive, delicious Southern romances and wanted to write a heroine who stomped onto the page and fell kicking and screaming into love. The combustible romance is balanced by the bite of family drama and the angst and hilarity of a coming of age YA.
First 250 words:
Her mother had raised her better than this.
Then again if anyone had taught her how to wear her crazy it was the woman who had spent fifteen hours delivering her into this mad world.
Daisy finished her drink and squinted at the full moon. “It’s where it’s supposed to be.” Her coven of witches were going to lose points for participation.
“How do you know this again?” Alicia complained around a yawn. She was already laying back in the dewy grass, looking sober and bored.
“‘Cause I read it in the book.” Daisy pointed at the ground by Lindsey’s feet. She snapped her fingers as she struggled to remember what came next. “Hand me that…that one. The white candle.”
They were lucky it was January and the mosquitoes weren’t out hunting blood. The night had a cool bite to it and the moon offered enough light for them to be this far back in the woods. Branches as crooked as they were hung above them, artfully draped in Spanish moss. The spooky atmosphere was killed when Daisy popped open the last beer. They’d grabbed four of them after finding the hidden stash in the vegetable crisper in Alicia’s fridge.
“I don’t get why we need to do this,” Lindsey whispered, covering her mouth like it made a difference. Poor thing. She’d come over to Alicia’s with a backpack full of good intentions ready to work on their social studies project after being grouped with the blonde and dark-haired pair from Hell.