Brenda Drake is at it again.
On July 17 participants in the contest must post a 35-word pitch (logline) and the first 250 words of their manuscript on their blog. Then they need to get feedback from as many followers as possible while critiquing other participants; entries. Then, when you’re ready to post your entry, come back here and post it to the entry post. It will be up on July 17, and you’ll have until 11:59 PM EST on July 20th to enter it. The winner will receive a 10 page plus a synopsis critique, and two runners up will receive either a 10 page or a synopsis critique from the fabulous Cassandra Marshall agent intern/editor/cover art designer/writer extraordinaire.
So, with that said, here is my logline:
A millionaire teen and his ‘girl’ friend are thrust into a magical world poised on the brink of war, and must battle a vengeful dragon and a murdering sorcerer if they are to return home.
And here are the first 250 words of my novel, In the Shadow of the Dragon King:
“Hey, David, check it out. You made the headlines again.” Charlotte leapt into the middle of her best friend’s four-poster bed.
“Like that’s a surprise.” David finished the charcoal shading on the dragon’s nose and held up the picture to look at it. “What did I do this time?”
“What else? Listen to this:
Money can do many things. It can furnish the luxurious plantation home on Chestnut Circle with French antiques and marble statuary, put fountains in the yard and a classic ice blue 1967 Shelby GT500 in the drive. Now, it even seems to be able to buy the love of a good dog.
The Paxton Road Animal Shelter was praying for pennies from heaven to build a new puppy wing, but was showered instead with an unexpected gift of twenty thousand dollars from fifteen-year-old millionaire, David Heiland.
“Are you kidding me?” David scrambled to his knees and reached for the paper. “They promised they wouldn’t snitch!”
Charlotte snatched the paper and laughed. “Shh. Keep your voice down. You’ll wake Lily.”
“Ooo, what’s she going to do, ground me?” He sat on the bed opposite Charlotte. “Let me see the paper.”
“Stop being a royal prat.”
“I’m not being a prat. Now let me see the paper.”
“No,” Charlotte teased and pushed up the sleeves of her sweater. “It’s too much fun watching you twitch when I read it aloud.” The pages crinkled as she turned them. “Now where is that other article? Oh, here it is.”