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Friday, 19 June 2015  |  Posted by Nikki Roberti



Genre: MG Sci Fi
Word Count: 69,000


Thirteen-year-old Stevie Blake shoots lightning at 1.21 gigawatts per bolt. He supercharges iPhones into iDuds just by touching them. He even flies (Landing is a whole different story).

But by the end of summer, he won’t exist.

His dad’s former sidekick, Artimus Smiles, has stolen a time machine and is using it to alter history. Suddenly, the good people of Summer Springs can’t remember a time when Smiles wasn’t the richest person in town. Even worse—they’re forgetting Stevie.

In the name of saving his hiney, Stevie breaks a few rules from the Superhero Handbook ™ to find out what Smiles is up to. Unfortunately, breaking-and-entering isn’t legal, not even when spying on a super villain wanna-be. Neither is stealing a Memory Serum so that Stevie’s cousins will remember him. But soon Stevie uncovers a connection between his dad’s past and Smiles’ present—a sinister connection, straight from a comic book, that could zap Stevie’s shot at a future.

Time is against Stevie, literally. His powers are weakening, he’s fading from pictures, and he could be erased from existence any day. He must travel in time, Marty McFly style, and stop Smiles, even if it means altering history and worse—Stevie’s life.

First Page:

I should’ve listened to my hair that morning.

You see, whenever something bad would happen, my hair rose. I’m talking straight up, standing on end, like it was charged with static electricity.

Had I listened to it, I wouldn’t have visited the comic shop.

The door chimed Darth Vader’s theme as I stepped in the store. I pulled my hoodie over my hair and straightened up to look taller. Five foot nada wasn’t exactly intimidating.

I zigzagged through the maze of bookshelves, my eyes trained on the shop’s owners at the counter. Ernie nudged Doug as I approached. Standing next to each other, they looked like the number ten—Doug the tall, thin one and Ernie the stumpy, round zero.

My hands clammed up, so I stuffed them in my pockets. Rule numero uno for bluffing: look as cool as possible. “Gentle-dudes,” I said.

“Steven,” they replied together. Nice tactic, using my real name. Everyone knows I hate it. Just call me Stevie.

We watched each other like cowboys in a Western, waiting to see who’d draw first. My heart raced like I’d drunk ten Red Bulls.

“Here to pick up the latest Silver Force?” Ernie asked.


“Here to do a trade in?” asked Doug.


That really threw them off. I stuck my chest out and deepened my voice. It squeaked sometimes because of that stupid puberty thing. “I’m here to claim my title.”

Ernie smirked and folded his arms. “Oh, really?”

Who did this guy think he was, acting as if I was some amusing little kid?

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