Throughout the week, watch out on the blogs for the authors, who will be leaving their feedback and five votes each. To see the list of voting authors, click HERE. The top twenty will be selected, emailed, and posted to Katie Hamstead's blog on Friday.
Note: Do not comment on other entrants' posts, only your own. You can bribe, coax, share, tweet, and do whatever to your entry, but you cannot comment on anyone else's!
Age and Genre: New Adult/Science Fiction
Word Count: 140,000
When Mer York meets a charming man named Bryn in the park, she doesn’t suspect that he’s actually a civil disobedient—a Dissenter—on the run from the law. When government agents known as Company Men link her to him, Mer is thrust into a world of mind control chips and secretive organizations to which her allegiance could mean the difference between freedom and subjugation not only for her and Bryn, but for the entire country.
Traditor is a tale of adventure and romance in a society where government surveillance has grown out of control. The novel follows protagonist Mer York’s transformation from a dutiful government worker to a Dissenter. Although initially intending to sabotage Bryn’s plans, Mer begins to reevaluate her beliefs when she discovers that the chip he carries was designed by Company Men to control people’s minds. Mer decides to turn traitor and fight to keep the chip safe until its existence can be made known. At the end of many adventures Bryn and Mer seem to be in the clear—until a comrade’s death leads to betrayal by one of their own. The book ends with Mer being implanted with the chip and interned in a facility for amnesiacs, which is in actuality a government detention center. This sets the stage for the second book in the trilogy.
First 250 Words:
She was never sure what woke her. Maybe there was a noise; something she couldn’t remember when she was fully awake. Maybe it was a sort of sixth sense, the feeling that lets you know you’re being watched from behind. Whatever it was, Mer opened her eyes just as the heavy moon hid its face behind a cloudbank.
She lay immobile for a moment. She often woke before her alarm, a product of years of conditioning. Normally it was two or three minutes before, however. Judging from the darkness Mer thought it must be much earlier.
She should just go back to sleep. Maybe she ought to take a pill? No, no need. Mer could feel fatigue pulling her under.
Her eyes had drifted shut, the wisps of dreams just beginning when she heard the creak.
Her first instinct was to sit up, but Mer forced herself to lie still. It was a neighbor, she told herself.
There was another, softer this time. It’s the floorboards. This isn’t exactly a new place. Houses get old, houses groan. It’s nothing. Go back to bed.
There was a definite thud, and a muffled curse. Mer shot up, stumbled over her clothes, strewn upon the floor, and fell into the dresser. She rose, swearing under her breath, then struggled into a threadbare nightshirt. Kicking on a pair of sneakers, she grabbed the only heavy thing available—a vase—turfed out some dead flowers, and opened her door. All in the hallway was silence.