Hello everyone,
The last time I posted my query letter here, it got destroyed, so I changed a lot of things (everything), and I'd like to try one last time before I shelve it and move on. My query letter, the word count, book title, and my first 300 words are completely different as well. Thank you for your time and feedback!
Dear Agent,
I am seeking representation for FLORALORE, a contemporary fantasy complete at 99,000 words. It will appeal to fans of the nature lore in Rebecca Ross’s A River Enchanted, the magical contemporary mystery of Meg Shaffer’s The Lost Story, and the magic consequences and dark secrets of Emma Törzs’s Ink Blood Sister Scribe.
Evera Presmond likes people deep down, she swears. But social interactions make her neurodivergent brain feel like the city crosswalks where she grew up: stressed and overstimulated. Hiking alone in the mountains and tending to her father keep her heart tucked away, safer than risking the connection she’s always craved.
When her father dies from the mysterious autoimmune disease dominating the news, Evera dives into a reckless grief spiral, landing in a bar brawl that nearly claims her life. A blinding light saves her and awakens a magic she can’t stealth-mode her way out of: her touch can heal others, but only by absorbing their physical pain into her own body.
Seeking answers, Evera joins a support group for Rangers, people with newfound, costly elemental abilities whose elders are suffering from the same deadly autoimmune reaction. There, she reconnects with a childhood friend who welcomes her into an eclectic social circle, including Damek, an outdoor adventure guide with dark powers whose growing connection with Evera makes avoiding attachment increasingly difficult.
When Evera discovers that her employer, energy company EASEC, is funding research for “potential antidotes for Rangers,” she and her newfound allies launch an amateur spy mission to find out why. In an underground lab, they uncover an otherworldly mineral matching the Rangers’ mysterious sixth white blood cell. As the mineral decays, it awakens powers in the younger generation while triggering a deadly reaction in their elders. Evera and her found family must find a way to protect the Rangers before the company rounds them up for experimentation in a desperate attempt to save the mineral. It cannot survive without them, and they cannot survive without it.
If Evera fails, she’ll lose the people she has finally let herself love to the same disease that took her father. To save them, she must confront the truth she has spent her life avoiding: the more you choose to love, the more loss you must absorb.
(bio)
First 300:
Evera fought a losing battle against her gag reflex. Shuffling through the grocery store’s automatic doors, she swept her hair into a quick, messy bun. The movement sent another queasy wave rolling through her stomach.
She swallowed hard, grabbed a plastic shopping basket, and began sorting through her mental catalog of scripted breakups. It’s not you, it’s me? No, she’d used that one last time.
The pregnancy test she took that morning flashed across her mind. Honestly, Kiran would be a great dad. But five months of dating? Not enough. Even if he was her longest relationship to date. And this morning, he definitely said she looked “a bit pale like a little vampire” and definitely overstayed his welcome last night after their dinner date.
She’d hoped to be blissfully alone with her persistent nausea, but no. Never been more thankful that he goes into our work building and I work from home. The scent of the floral department made her gag, but she picked up a small bouquet anyway as the disquieting truth slithered up from her heart. Doesn’t matter. The moment the white stick scrawled “Not Pregnant” across it, she knew what she had to do. We’re already past our expiration date.
Floating between the produce bins, she gathered all the ingredients for a homemade batch of chicken noodle soup, one of the only meals her father could still keep down since his illness began.
Turning left into the pantry aisle, she fought the thudding in her temples. It pulsed in time with the flickering fluorescent lights overhead. How about “we’re just at different points in our lives?”
She reached for her dad’s favorite brand of spicy pickles when a sudden, strong wave of nausea crashed into her. The jar slipped through her fingers and smashed onto the floor with a high-pitched, glass-crunching crash. Shit.