1. Let's hear your pitch.
2. Do you have a teaser for your book you could share?
3. Who is your target audience? What genre is your book?
4. How did this story come about? Who or what inspired you/this story?
5. Is this your first book?
6. Why did you enter #PitchMadness?
7. Do you have any past experiences with this story you would like to share?
8. What can be expected from this story in the future, and do you have any plans?
9. How about an excerpt?
A man stood there with a sharp spear aimed right at Lucky’s head. He was dressed head to toe in white garb that closer resembled pajamas than a military uniform. The expression on his face was far from sleepy though. He glared down at Lucky with fierce palatinate eyes.
“You will come,” he said.
“Um, I think I’ll stay here, thanks.”
“Freeman, head down!” Ava flew over him and slammed into Pajama Man feet first. Brock grabbed Lucky’s wrist and yanked him the other way, down the aisle of the bus. Dom scrambled after them as Brock checked Bernie’s vital signs.
“He’ll be fine,” he reported. “They aren’t here for him.”
“Who is they?” Dom said, echoing Lucky’s thoughts.
“Trust me. You don’t want to know.” He turned to the doors of the bus, releasing the lock with a yank and forcing them open in one swift kick.
Lucky latched onto Dom’s wrist as they clamored down the steps. Outside the wind was picking up again, biting into Lucky’s cheeks. It felt like fire searing into his skin, and all at once he realized his blood was pumping, adrenaline making everything sharper and more intense. He could hear Dom breathing hard behind him, and Brock’s near-silent curses in Script.
And that chill again–Lucky sucked in a harsh breath. For a second the world tilted. At first Lucky thought it was because of the flicker in the air that accompanied his color flashes, but then he met the pavement face first. Next to him Dom grunted as he also fell.
Lucky rolled onto his back and squinted into the light. Another man dressed in white stood over him, shoving the point of the spear beneath Lucky’s chin.
He raised his hands. “So I’m guessing you’re not my birthday clown.”
The man scowled. “I am of the Angel Corps,” he said. “And you will come with me.”
10. Do you have a website or social media platform for your story?
11. I see you have a lot of art on your Twitter. Did you do all of this yourself? Could we find more art elsewhere?
I need to organize the art on my Tumblr [laughs].
12. Since you have a trilogy planned and have artwork, will we see this in other mediums?
You can connect with Jasmine on Twitter @CinderScoria