Writer's Voice Entry #138

I know, I know, two posts in one day??? Well, I made it into the Writer's Voice competition!

Yeah, baby!

So I've gotta post my query letter (the plot part) and my first 250 words on my blog ASAP before I send it into the mentors. So here it is.


Sixteen-year-old Jessica Jacobs is a super spy, a famous actress, and a princess.

Okay, not really. But she likes to daydream she’s all of those things and more. So when she wakes up with a medieval knight aiming his sword at her throat, Jessica thinks it’s just another daydream. Until she realizes that, 1- dude is actually causing her neck to bleed, 2- her dress is so hideous she never would have daydreamed herself into it, and 3- Zac Efron is nowhere in sight.

After pondering her sanity, Jessica is left with one option: ride out her time in Crazy Medieval Land until she can figure out a way home. Unfortunately, that means working for the Count’s horrible daughter and doing her best to avoid Lord Pervy’s wandering hands. It sucks being the peon instead of the princess.

Enter Lord Alric, AKA: knight-in-freaking-hot-armor. It would be easy to let him protect her, but Jessica refuses to be a damsel-in-distress. Instead, she convinces him to teach her to swordfight. Somewhere amidst the grueling hours of training, she falls for his chivalry and playful smile. Could time have brought them together? And if so, why is everything conspiring to keep them apart?

Happily ever after was so much easier in her daydreams.


CHAPTER 1: Blake The Snake

He was supposed to be my knight in shining armor. My prince charming. The guy who would sweep me off my feet and trot me away from my blah life on the back of his white horse.

I glared at Blake Chapman around my locker door, wishing I could yank his shaggy blond hair out by the roots. Never mind that I used to daydream about running my hands through it, curling it around my fingers, and then pulling his face in for a kiss that would change life as I knew it.

Daydreaming about Blake Chapman had been my national pastime for the past three years. His soccer-stud physique and cocky smile were enough to make me woozy. In a good way.

Too bad our date, our one-and-definitely-only date, was just a scam. He didn’t like me. His reason for going out with me in the first place? And I quote,

“Hey, you think your friend Dani would go for me? She’s smokin’ hot.”

When I wouldn’t dish the dirt on Dani, pay for dinner, or give him any (in that order), he dumped me on the side of the road, four blocks from my house. Now he makes me woozy in an I-want-to-vomit kind of way.

When Blake headed down the hallway toward Algebra, I slammed my locker door shut and followed. Staring at the back of  his head, I imagined lightening bolts shooting from my eyes and frying that perfectly silky blond hair. I could almost hear the sizzle.