The writers voice submission
I am submitting my novel "The Legacy of Ice and Fire" for the writers voice.
Dear Amazing Coaches,
Dear Amazing Coaches,
Hours before nineteen year old Tabor is to marry a blood thirsty warlord, she finds out the life that she has been living is not the one she was born into. Events are set into motion quickly, leaving Tabor overwhelmed and confused. The man that she considered a father figure convinces her to marry another man, a stranger, and flee the only life she can remember at the monastery.
While being pursued through dangerous, unforgiving mountains by her ex fiancé, Tabor comes to find that she is part of a long forgotten race of people who disappeared hundreds of years ago. The only way to save herself and her new husband is to find them, but where does she look?
The road is long and cold, filled with dangerous monsters sent after her by the Underkeeper, a powerful being from the underworld bent on capturing her people and enslaving them for their magic abilities.
Tabor has no choice but to press on, even when her feeble new world comes crashing down on her when she learns that her new husband is working for her ex. A betrayal that cuts deep. Can Tabor hold her marriage together long enough to find her true home and save her people from the Underkeeper? Or will she run and hide, only to die alone in the snow at the hands of her ex?
The complete manuscript is 94,000 words, and is a young adult sci-fi/fantasy. Thank you for considering my novel "The Legacy of Ice and Fire."
I woke to the chime of the bell in the monastery tower, just as I had done every morning previously. But this morning was different. It was my nineteenth birthday.
I had dreaded this day since I was old enough to understand why it was so important. I was to be married, and it wasn’t that I didn’t wish to be married. I did, but for love, not this arranged marriage I was being forced into.
His name was Farenan, a powerful Warlord from the Old Dominion to the far south, with an appetite for death and a lust for battle. I had never met him, but I feared him. His reputation was less than appetizing.
My small room was oddly cold. Rolling onto my side, I gathered my sheepskin blankets up around my chin and pulled my feet close, attempting to warm them before I dozed back off to sleep.
There was a knock on the door, bringing me from my haze. A sigh escaped my lips. I knew who it was. Delah my best friend. She had probably come to check on me, to make sure I was still alive.
There had been multiple occasions where I had thought about taking my own life so I wouldn’t have to live with a murderous husband or in fear of his hand striking me. I had voiced these thoughts to her once or twice. She was a good friend. My only friend.
“Yes?” I said.