Thursday, 2 May 2013

The Writer's Voice : Beautiful Malevolence

Hello Kittens!

The raffle gods were on my side (for once) so I get to take part in this years The Writer's Voice!

You can find out more about the contest here ....or here . And here . Oh, and here too.

Contest Goddesses Cupid, Brenda, Monica , Krista, and Kimberly are putting it on.

Thank you so much for all your hard work!

And now onto the goods :)


Sixteen-year-old Olivia doesn't think she killed her dog, but her blood soaked pajamas say otherwise. If the death of her pet wasn't bad enough, now someone is tormenting her through cryptic e-mails and a painted locker that screams “Murderer”. At first she writes it off as a cruel prank, but after her drama teacher accuses her of stealing and Olivia’s crush, Smith, swears they hooked up, Olivia starts to wonder if someone is set on destroying her life or if she’s doing it to herself.

When her mom is attacked and hospitalized, Olivia is sent to the Royal Alexander Center for Mental Health. After a psych evaluation rules out paranoid personality disorder and a video tape catches someone who looks eerily similar to Olivia torching a school shed, she is released from the Center. Smith becomes her knight-in-denim armor when he discovers the identity of Olivia’s tormentor and turns the tables in their favor.

Armed with a taste for revenge, Olivia’s out to clear her name and get some payback. But each retaliating prank escalates and the price of her revenge could be the lives of the people she loves.

BEAUTIFUL MALEVOLENCE is a young adult thriller completed at 50, 000 words. My novel will appeal to fans of PRETTY LITTLE LIARS by Sara Shepard and Jenny Han and Siobhan Vivian's BURN FOR BURN.

First 250:

I have to bury my best friend today.

Right now, Dad is outside digging a hole next to the oak tree in the backyard. Mom is on her knees at the head of the pit; she doesn't even look bothered that she’s ruining her new linen pants. She won’t stop adjusting the hastily thrown together wooden cross. She looped Tobin’s collar around it but it won’t sit right. I should go down there and help but I’m not sure if I’m welcome.

Mom can’t even look at me without crying.

She thinks I did it.

I don’t blame her. They found Tobin in my bed, his golden fur matted with blood, and the butcher knife in my hand even though I was asleep.

I don’t remember a thing, and I don’t think I did it, but it doesn't matter.

Tobin is dead and Mom hates me.

“Olivia, honey, do you want to come downstairs?” Dad calls from the kitchen.

Dad isn't mad at me—he knows I’d never hurt Tobin on purpose. He thinks maybe I was sleepwalking or something. They’re taking me to the nut house tomorrow to talk to some shrink.

I climb off my bed, thankful Mom put clean sheets on the rust-colored mattress, and shuffle through my door and down the stairs.

“Will she let me go outside?” I ask.

“Of course she will,” Dad says, holding out his hand.

I reach for it and we walk into the backyard together. It’s a beautiful, sunny day.