The Writer’s Voice Contest!

Plot Summary from Query:

Taylor Stewart leads a life that, while privileged, is wrought with pressure-filled expectations. Although she has successfully navigated her way through the first three years of high school meeting, and often exceeding, these expectations, she has not done so without a little help. Taylor is a teenage alcoholic.

Alcohol has been the perfect partner, helping Taylor be outgoing, funny, and popular. It also offers an escape from her pressure-filled life, while numbing the bitterness, hurt and resentment she feels towards her absentee parents. When she is unexpectedly dumped by her star-athlete boyfriend, she is finally pushed past the tipping point and the delicate façade she has built begins to crumble. She begins to rely even heavier on alcohol to simply make it through the days. And the more she uses alcohol to hold everything together, the more her life spirals out of control. The end result is catastrophic and threatens to change the course of her life forever.

Gripped is an edgy, contemporary young adult novel, complete at 61,000 words. The manuscript is available upon request.

First 250 Words:

The noise blaring from the speakers is palpable.  She can feel the bass pulsing through her body, reverberating in her bones. Every thump and pulse of the techno mix is speeding up the rhythmic beating of her heart.

The heat radiating off of the bodies in the dank, crowded room is stifling. She is sweating through her clothes. She drags the back of her hand across her forehead, which is slick with salty sweat.

She stumbles through the crowd, trying to push her way out. The smell of stale beer and body odor is making her feel nauseous. She can feel the contents of her stomach trying to angrily push their way up her esophagus.  She has to get out of here, now, before she throws up.

Her chest feels tight and heavy, like a weight is pressing down on her heart. Her legs are wobbly, barely able to support her body and keep it upright. But she keeps moving, parting the crowd with her hands, slipping through the tiny cracks of space between bodies.

She can feel the pricking of tears on the inside of her eyelids. She can’t cry now. She has to keep it all inside her for a little longer. At least until she can get out of here.