Konan Henslee | Immunity Hunter

Name: Konan Henslee
Age: 17
Occupation: Student/Field Agent
Weapon: Double Axes
Magic: None

The Konadai aren't going anywhere anytime soon, but that doesn't stop us from trying. My dad thinks training is the best way to spend my time. Mom says I need to spend more times with friends. They're both right; friends and family are what's important in this city. Without them we're nothing, but I have other things on my mind now. People are going missing and no one seems to have any answers. That's where I come in. With the help of my partner, Aaron, we'll find out what's happening to our neighbors one way or another.

I hope she's not involved.

Illustration by: Autumn-Sacura on DeviantArt

Sasame Kai | Immunity Hunter

Name: Sasame Kai
Age: 17
Occupation: Immunity Hunter
Weapon: Shortsword
Magic: Pyro Dancer

Our city has been at war with the beasts known as the Konadai since, well, forever. It became personal the day my parents died. I was thirteen when they left for a routine operation and never returned. Nothing is ever routine in this city. I sat up for hours waiting for them to come back, but all that came was a knock on the door from one of the squad leaders. It would've been better had she brought some ice cream with her before dropping the "your parents are never coming home" bomb.

Now, I'm a trained immunity hunter fueled by grief. The job isn't all that great, it takes its toll on me, but at least it keeps my head clear—well, sort of. I can deal with that. It's the pain and abandonment I can't get over.

Illustration by: Autumn-Sacura on DeviantArt

Banned From A Writing Forum

Today I was banned from Absolute Write. Why? Because I posted a critique I received on a query. I didn't name the site, I didn't name the poster. The only way anyone would've known was if they themselves were a member.

The reason for the ban: You can find another forum to bitch about. On top of that, one of the moderators sent me a tweet stating "You can find another forum to bitch about, you've overstayed your welcome." Really? How? I didn't cause drama on the board. Yes, I may have gotten defensive over critiques and that's my fault. But overstayed my welcome because I posted a critique I felt was rude?

They did me a favor, though. After an online research I learned that the site is full of bullies and if you don't fit into their little cliques then you're a target. I tried staying on everyone's good side, but I guess the screenshot was the last straw.

No hard feelings, I'll take my punishment and walk away with my head up. No writer should be forced to deal with such hate. Yes, there are some really helpful people there, but they are taken over by bitter, angry, assholes that just want to argue and put people down.

There are healthier writing communities out there than Absolute Write Water Cooler. Be sure to do your research.

Vegas Proposal | Flash Fiction

This is the result of having too much downtime on a long bus trip. Enjoy

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"If I hit blackjack on this hand, I'll propose to her right here, right now," the man sitting next to me says to the dealer.

We've been sitting at this table for nearly an hour and neither of us has hit blackjack yet. So, of course, I meet his bet.

"If I hit blackjack, I'll say yes to his proposal."

What do I have to lose? He's handsome, looks amazing in that black suit, and seems to have some sort of wealth to him considering he's been bidding way above the minimum. Who sits at a ten dollar table and makes one hundred dollar bets? Besides, it's not like either of us will hit blackjack on this hand.

The dealer gives us both a smirk as he deals out the cards. My first card is a face card, king of spades. His card, ace of hearts. The dealer has a two of spades. To build up suspense, the dealer deals our next cards facedown.

"So who wants to flip theirs first?" he says with a grin. The handsome man with the fat wallet lifts the corner of his card to take a peek.

Sweat builds on my brow as he takes his time turning the card over. He glances over at me and winks. Is he seriously considering proposing to a woman he just met?

No, I Will Not Tell You What My Novel Is About

It happens, you find yourself talking about your new shiny WIP and someone asks "what is it about?" What do you do? You tell them, right? Of course, you do, you're excited about it and want people to know you're writing some unique.

Except...it's not unique. It's the same overdone crap that rots on the shelves of every bookstore known to man. You didn't write anything different. At least, that's what people tell you after you waste your breath telling them what you're writing.

They say, "It won't ever sell, so work on something else." They mean well. They're trying to help you. Does it help?

So let's get to how I feel about this. No, I will not tell you about my story. My story is the same crap. It's over done. Agents will reject it because they can't sell it. Publishers are tired of it. Readers don't want it. I should write something else. Forget that I've spent the last 8 years writing, drafting, adding or removing characters, fleshing out their personalities, building the world for them to live in, giving them a reason to protect their friends. Forget all that and write something else.

I mean, it's easy, right? To hear people tell you that your story won't sell before they even look at the first sentence. To hear people say stop working on that crap and write something that will sell. Why not? You're only doing it to see your name on a book as big as James Patterson's ego.

So what do you do?

Me? I'll finish my WIP, edit it to perfection, and find out for myself is it'll sell. Even 1 copy sold is a sell last time I checked.

So no, I won't tell you what my novel is about, but you can read about it when it's published.

Caara Island Short Stories | Rin Youngbrook

It's hot today, too hot to go do anything productive. It's not like the guards are allowing me to leave the compound anyway. Michael has us on some sort of lockdown. I guess he's worried about Ashley and I. Sure, we both got hurt, but we're alive—somehow.

Sitting in my room, I day dream Shadow, the boy that stole my heart. He's as mysterious as his name. We've been seeing each other for a few months now, but neither of us has taken the leap to make it official. And then there's Jeiku, the Okamikiin that makes me laugh. He has the cutest ears I've seen on his people. He's determined to sway my affection toward him, but my heart belongs to Shadow, though. At least, I think it does.

I know, I shouldn't be messing around with the both of them, but they seem to make one complete guy. Jeiku is funny and ready for adventure while Shadow is more serious. Maybe I'm making excuses.

A small rock hits my window. My heart feels like it's about to jump out of my chest. I walk over to see who is trying to get my attention. It must be one of the guards playing tricks or something. No, it's Jeiku sitting on a tree branch about a foot away. He smiles at me and waves.

"Can I come in?" he asks with a large grin on his face.

I smile and open my window allowing Jeiku to enter. I don't know why he insists on climbing that tree.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I wanted to see you. I was thinking we could sneak out of this place and go get something to eat."

"You know I can't do that. The guards have this place locked down."

Jeiku laughs pointing at the window.

"Then why was it so easy for me to get in? C'mon, what do you have to lose?"

What do I have to lose? My freedom. Well, sort of. Being locked up in this house only allowed to go out into the garden or the pool isn't exactly freedom. But if the guards see me sneaking off with an Okamikiin—I don't want to think about what will happen.

"Jeiku, I…"

My head hangs, I don't want to turn him down but I also don't want him here. Not now. He puts his hand underneath my chin and lifts my head up to face his. A smile comes across his face, but I turn away.

"Do you want me to go?" he asks finally.

"Yes, you should. If the guards catch you, then you'll get a worse punishment than a visit to the hospital."

Jeiku turns toward the window with his bottom lip poked out and his head hanging low. I touch his right shoulder, but he shrugs it off. I hurt him, that's clear, but I have to look out for myself. I can't fall for an Okamikiin.

"I want you to know something." He keeps his back to me. "Even though you may not feel the same, I like you…a lot. I don't risk my life for anyone, ya know. I wanted you to understand that."

He climbs out of the window across the tree branch. I stand in the middle of my room in shock. His words flow through my head, but they didn't make any sense. I mean, I know he likes me, anyone can see that, but did he say he loved me? That's what it translated to, right? My stomach flutters. I keep repeating the words in my head: I can't fall for an Okamikiin.

Son Of A Pitch Query | Immunity YA Fantasy *Updated*

Title: Immunity
Genre: YA Fantasy
Word Count: 78,000

Query (minus the bio)

Seventeen-year-old Sasame Kai hates the mutated undead more than she hates doing petty missions for her agency. Those flesh-eating bastards took her parents and left her with no one. She trains every day at the fighting and magic academy envisioning ripping off the mutants' heads.

The agency sends her on a mission to hunt students at the academy whose blood is the key to the mutation virus antidote. Sasame's emotions have no place in her missions; her victims' blood is more valuable. The problem is, the more time she spends learning about her targets, the more she grows to actually enjoy their company. Even if some of them are annoying. Her handlers aren't happy. They have strict rules against relationships. Insubordination means death.

When questioned about her new friends, Sasame pretends they aren't important to her, but her regret over hunting students interferes with her missions. Sasame confronts the agency and they answer by threatening her life. If she goes against her orders, she will be forced to kill her new friends to prove her loyalty to her cruel employer or risk becoming the next target herself.

IMMUNITY is complete at 78,000 words and is told from the points of view of five characters. It is a standalone novel with series potential.


First 250 Words

It's only another mission, I keep telling myself as I try to sleep. I stare at the ceiling fan spinning on the lowest setting. There really isn't a need for the fan as the air is surprisingly cool tonight, but its sound comforts me. Tonight is different. In my mind, the blades of the fan turn to knives. Blood rains down on my face and the screams of my victims pierce through my ears. Tomorrow will just be another mission.

The sound of Yuki talking to her husband—my substitute parents—enters my ears from the next room.

"I pulled some strings and got the perfect mission for Sasame," Yuki says. "She's going to Summer Fest to meet teenagers her age for some much-needed interaction."

I'm seventeen, not twelve. I don't need to make friends. Yuki's been laughing and talking about how great the festival will be for the last hour. Her squeaky, high-pitched voice is like nails on a chalkboard. It sounds like she had the same cold for years. Ever since my parents disappeared, The Organization that I devote my loyalty to was kind enough to give me replacements. Not that I need them, I can take care of myself.

I roll over and close my eyes. The walls are so thin in this townhouse; I'm surprised they've never heard me scream into my pillow at night. I cover my face with my pillow to block out the sound. How blind can everyone in this city be?