Category/Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance

Word Count: 120,000


Virgin rich girl burner and superstar addict find love in NYC. These two lost people, a guy fresh from rehab and the daughter of a 60s music icon, fight to hold onto a searing passion.

If the MC was an Easter egg…

Alan is milk chocolate because he is smooth, seductive, a blend of pleasure and pain.

Excerpt: 300 words

People would have stared at my father even if he had not been famous. He is just that kind of man, but it has taken me until the age of eighteen to understand that. In my younger years, when I hated Jack in fleeting spurts, I thought fame was like a suit, he could take it off for me if he wanted to. Now I know better than to have childish expectations of what my father can or can’t do for me. Life with Jack is what it is. It is enough that he showed tonight, even if he did miss nearly the entire senior class spring recital. 

I carefully conceal myself in the stage curtains as I watch Jack slipping into the auditorium and fading back into his customary seat in the far left corner. I can feel him in the darken theater though I can only make out a hazy detail of shape with my eyes.

Any other parent making that entrance would have had no impact on the audience. It is soundless. But my father is Jackson Parker, an icon of the sixties, forever part of the music and voice of a generation, and the entire chemistry of the room instantly alters.

Rene drops her chin on my shoulder as she stares out at the audience. “So, Jack did come,” she says. She frees my fingers from the shabby velvet and tosses a harsh glare at the curtains, their ages beaten elegance a thing she finds preposterous since the private Catholic boarding school we reside at cost a small fortune in tuition each year. The shabbiness of the facility she is certain is nothing more than deliberate proletarian punishment for children of non-proletarian families. “He said he would come and actually showed. Chalk one up for team Jack.



Category/Genre: NA/ Romantic Ghost Story

Word Count: 104,000


Free spirited twenty-three year old single parent nurse meets sexy thirty-two year old history professor.  Professor rents his spacious Victorian house to her.  Unfortunately, it is still occupied by the spirit of his deceased mother.

If the MC was an Easter egg…

Jemma would be green-apple flavored, though sweet like an apple she will kick if provoked!

Excerpt: 300 words. 

As the sun slid beneath the horizon turning the page on another day, Jemma Hollister nudged her rust-speckled Volvo into its usual parking space at Dreamhaven Nursing Home. Holding her breath, she reached down and shut off the ignition. The cantankerous old car sputtered and shook, but the engine kept on running.

“Come on bitch! Die already!” Jemma hissed, slamming her fist into the dash.

The car emitted a long unhealthy sounding wheeze then finally gave up the fight.

“Damn girl! Remind me to stay out of your way tonight!” Remarked a familiar voice outside her window.

Jemma looked up to see a tall, gangly, black man smiling down at her.

“Hey Martin!” She hailed, grinning up at him sheepishly. “Wanna buy a car?”

Martin took a step back pretending to assess the vehicle in question. What used to be pearly white was now a sickly shade of yellow and the driver side mirror was secured with a bumpy wad of duct tape. All four tires were maypops (may pop at any time), and the once luxurious upholstery was stained and threadbare.

“Just kidding,” Jemma smirked. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” Then after hauling herself and her overstuffed nursing bag out of the car, she attempted to shut the door. At first, it closed like any other car door, then with a tiny squeak of protest it fell ajar.

“Damn it Agnes!” Jemma cursed. “I don’t need any more shit from you tonight!” Lifting one leg, she forcefully kicked the door back into place. When she turned back around, Martin was holding his hands up and inching away. “Sorry,” she sighed. “I didn’t get any sleep again today.”

“Understandable,” he replied lowering his hands. “So who’s this Agnes chick anyway?”

“Oh,” that’s just what Kenzie calls it,” Jemma explained, gesturing to the car.



Category/Genre: NA Paranormal Romance

Word Count: 50,000


Rachel’s got a smart mouth, an insane mother, and a hereditary demon waiting inside of her. When The Fergus She takes over Rachel’s body, Rachel has to get control back before her life is destroyed.

If the MC was an Easter egg…

If Rachel were an Easter egg, she’d be a double-yolker, because where Rachel goes, The Fergus She follows.

Excerpt: 300 words. 

It was just another Friday night at the Albion—boring and dull with limited chances that I’d find one real man in the Pub-of-my-life. I wrapped my lips around the amber “o” of the beer bottle and tipped a dribble of warm brew down my throat. Not that I wanted a man. I was off the opposite sex for a while; sick of being duped. For all my bravado, my strength and what I hoped was a little intelligence, I still couldn’t figure out how to find a nice man. I was perpetually drawn to the losers who skidded along the alleyways of dead end streets.

A cockroach scuttled across the burgundy swirls on the grimy carpet, followed by a pair of pristine white sneakers. I dragged my eyes up the acid-washed jeans to the black belt that neatly clutched a white t-shirt in its grasp.

“Wanna go a round?” The voice belonging to the legs said.

“A round of what?” My scathing glance slid up to a clean-shaven face.

“Darts?” The word held a confused shrug.

The man-boy showed me a handful of sharp instruments sporting multi-coloured feathers. He gripped them anxiously in his thin fingers, as if hoping the darts could replace his lack of plumage and win a mate.

“Not likely.”

I stared at the would-be suitor, until he sighed in defeat and retreated. The four other eligible men in the room had watched the exchange and were now very aware that I was not up for the taking. I lifted my head and ran my haughty glance over each face. One by one, they looked away from my thunderous expression; my ice-queen posture.

That’s right boys, leave me alone or I’ll eat you alive.



Category/Genre: NA Historical Fantasy

Word Count: 60,000


Kathryn is a killer, a king’s assassin. Only the king and the guild know her secret.  She must face an unlikely enemy who wants to control the kingdom or die at the hands of the manipulative would-be tyrant.

If the MC was an Easter egg…

Lady Kathryn would be a smooth chocolate and caramel swirled filled egg.

Excerpt: 300 words

The stiff bodice squeezed my rib cage and the petticoats hung heavy on my hips. I tugged at the clothing trying to breathe a little better.

“Stop fussing, Kathryn,” mother said sternly watching from the wing backed chair across the room.

“I shall stop fussing once I can breathe.” I winced as the housemaid pulled the strings tighter. I grabbed the table in front of me to steady myself so as not to fall over with each tug.

“The dress is not meant to make breathing easy. It is meant to give you a smaller waist and a higher bosom.”

“Yes, that is just what I want,” I replied tugging at the skirts.

“How else do you expect to attract a respectable husband?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily. If only you knew what I really had to do. “Mother, I am eighteen-years-old. I am not thinking about marriage at the moment. I have plenty of time.”

“You should. I was married and…”

I cut her off before she could finish. “And pregnant with me by time you were eighteen. Yes. You have reminded me daily since I returned.” I am an assassin! I kill people, mother! Husbands and children will not be my life. Get used to it. I thought bitterly to myself.

“Yes. Well you should be engaged by now at least. Everyone else’s daughters of marriageable age are engaged or married. Imagine how your father must feel when he goes to court. Why do you think we sent you to France for so long?” she asked shaking her head.

“Honestly mother, I find it hard to believe everyone in King Aldrich ’s court whispers about the Duke of Suffolk’s unwed daughter.”

“You are one of the most eligible women in all of England. Do you honestly thing people do not speak of it?”



Category/Genre: NA Science-Fiction

Word Count: 90,000

Pitch: Winning. Nothing else matters to 18-year-old Kali. But when the gaming league whitewashes her teammate’s death for ratings, she fights to expose the mind-warping corruption behind virtual sports before it’s game over for her too.

If the MC was an Easter egg…

Whiskey because straight shots can be rough and coffee makes me milder — sort of.

Excerpt: 300 words.

This wasn’t the first time I’d died. Sure as hell wouldn’t be the last either. But while most eighteen-year-old girls studied, gossiped, and swooned over boys, there was no other way I’d rather spend my Saturday night.

Crouched high on the tower’s parapet, I overlooked a sea of wheat fields. The scent of lavender and the taste wheatgrass wove together in the air, drifting alongside the breeze that swept through my hair. I took a deep breath and smiled at the irony, as thick as the mountain air filling my lungs. Lavender. Wheat fields. Tranquility.

Peace, in a place anything but peaceful.

Movement in the fields caught my eye, down and right. A zigzag carved its way through the ten-foot tall stocks, heading straight for the tower. My smile pulled wider. Maybe this sucker had the balls to take on Kali Ling.

The warrior.

I stilled inside. Even breaths. No fear. At the field’s edge, the stocks trembled violently. The air filled with the rainstick rustling of brush and dry grass. Yes. Someone would emerge. I gripped the sword sheathed across my back and waited, muscles tight, mouth watering. Come on. Give me something. A brute. Six — no — seven feet tall, wielding a mace. Or an axe.

Give me anything.

A rabbit scurried out from the field. Nothing followed. The grass fluttered in the breeze. Birds chirped, nestled in the nearby sycamore trees. It was the rabbit, and only the rabbit.

For now.

I punched the parapet’s brick wall, but instead of frustration, irony reverberated through me again. In 2054, most my age hid behind a barricade — of textbooks. Engineering. Art history. Pffft. Meanwhile, I strapped on battle gear, sword and all, and headed into these fields.

Fields I now frowned at, which had stilled just to spit on my excitement.



Category/Genre: Adult science fiction

Word Count: 82,000


A ballsy attitude won’t save rogue biohunter Niobe’s neck when she’s falsely accused as the source of deadly new bioweapons wreaking havoc across a resource-starved North America, and must track down the real killers.

If the MC was an Easter egg…

Screw Easter Eggs. I’m fine whisky poured from a long, steel-capped red leather boot.

Excerpt: 300 words. 

Barton’s wheat beer was second to none, Niobe thought, as she took a long pull of cool brew. You had to hand it to the guy – he could tickle a good beer out of just about any crop but his wheat beer was a mouthful of farm girl and sunshine. Shame about the company, but she could sit with nomads, scavengers and other human flotsam if it meant a good drink.

Barton’s saloon/charge station/brothel, built conveniently just a day from the abandoned riches of Pittsburgh, attracted the best quality low-life. It was run by the brawny, hirsute publican Terry Barton – one of a long line of Bartons who had steered the establishment through the upheavals of climate change and, to all appearances, continued to serve alcohol, food, and sex to locals and travelers in much the same fashion for nearly two centuries.

Niobe figured the Bartons must have married their sisters to preserve a bloodline that delivered menfolk built like mastodons, as evidenced by the row of Barton portraits lined up above the bar. She found herself glaring back at the bushy-eyebrowed, block-jawed faces that stared down, unsmiling, at the dusty rabble occupying the room.

The brew cooled its way down her throat as she cast her eyes around the bar, stifling a belch with the back of her hand. The dark wood-paneled room featured the expected bar paraphernalia – the obligatory Texas longhorn skull, battered road signs, moth-eaten national flags, and Barton’s prized collection of street signs salvaged from the decaying, flooded streets of New York.

The establishment was set up with the aim of keeping Barton’s customers comfortable, contained, and feeling groovy. Ceiling fans kept the air moving, a deep cellar kept the beer cold, a creative cook kept the food interesting, and Barton’s resident musician rotated drunkenly from piano to guitar to fiddle to keep the patrons entertained.  





Category/Genre: Adult Fantasy

Word Count: 87,000

Pitch: A millennium ago a technology-driven Cataclysm shattered the continent. Now Erissa and Radha must bridge distrust between wielders of living magic and seekers of ancient technology to stop an invading army from a forgotten realm.

If the MC was an Easter egg…

Peppermint for her frozen heart, Chocolate for her daughter, Serrano pepper for her warrior’s spirit. 

Excerpt: 300 words. 

Legend says, powerful mechanisms protected ancient Galdor until the Cataclysm shattered the land a thousand years ago, creating a hundred islands.  My mother’s vision showed an invasion force sweeping across the Isles. Then she saw a weapon that could stop it. Is it ancient technology?

 Erissa Filidh, 899 years After Cataclysm (yAC)

When I was fifteen and still learning the bard’s craft, I believed my future held no surprises. That was before I learned that the old tales about lost technologies understated the truth.

– Radha Darkstone, 1046 yAC

I. Song of Silence 

Erissa Filidh glided through the pattern of her sword exercise. After four centuries, each movement was precise, automatic. She finished the sequence, her sword in a guard position, ready to transition to the next. Her muscular curves dripped with sweat despite the winter chill pervading her practice room. A frown crossed her sun-bronzed face. Radha’s harp should fill the house this time of day.

She relaxed as the first notes wafted through the doorway, then froze when she realized they were not from her daughter’s harp, but hers. Her lips flattened. She marched up the stairway to the sunroom, halting a foot from the harp. Her leaf-colored eyes looked like they could cut through flesh. 

Radha’s hands fell from the crystalline strings. Her eyes locked with her mother’s as she rose, nearly toppling her stool. She preempted the expected lecture. 

“Yes, I touched your precious harp. Someone should.” She’d inherited Erissa’s pointed ears and compact form, but her human father’s dark skin and fiery temper.

Erissa froze. She required every ounce of the self-control gained during centuries of practice to keep her sword at her side.

“You know my rule.” Her words flew like lances of ice to penetrate her target. “Nobody. Touches. That. Harp.”



Category/Genre: Adult Paranormal Romance
Word Count: 105,000
Pitch: Ages past, Odin created shape-shifting wolves to guard his enemy
 Fenrir. Now Fenrir’s escape looms, and Alpha wolf Erik must rely on a
 woman he wants but doesn’t trust or the Norse gods will die.
If the MC was an Easter egg...
Caramel - because I'm golden, baby.
Excerpt: 300 words. 
Leave it to Gina to kill her before she even got to the compound.
 Kristin sucked back air and grabbed the sides of her seat as the big,
 black SUV barreled toward them, horn blaring. Her foster-sister, long
 red nails flashing on the wheel, swerved left, throwing Kristin against
 the passenger door with a bang. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited
 for her world to end for the second time in her life – tossing the gods
 a quick prayer for good measure.
 When the car slowed then came to an abrupt halt without the death blow
 she’d anticipated, she unclenched her teeth and took a deep breath. “I
 said ‘pull-over’, not ‘kill us now’.” 
 Gina snorted as she cut the Mini’s engine. “Technicalities.”
 Opening her eyes to a bright, summer day and gorgeous mountain view,
 Kristin’s relief evaporated and she once again resisted the urge to
 curse. The Mini was parked sideways a foot away from a steep drop off –
 and no guard rail. Anxiety snaked through her belly and twisted it. 
 “Not funny,” she muttered. 
 “Consider it behavioral therapy. I’m helping you face your fears.”
 “Uh-huh. Cause that’s what you’re all about. The helping.” 
 Gina stepped out of the car and sauntered to the edge of the cliff. Her
 gauzy, white skirt revealed shapely legs, and her crocheted, pink halter
 top exposed way too much boob. 
 Although if Kristin had a rack like that she’d probably flaunt it, too. 
 After glaring at her sister, she jutted her chin up and climbed from the
 car, her booted feet as far as possible from the edge as she
 side-stepped toward the hood. All the while telling herself her fear of
 cliffs wasn’t real. 
 Below her, Wolf Ridge Industries, AKA the Valdyr compound, nestled in a
 wide, rocky valley. A thrill shot through her, and she released her
 breath with a loud ‘whoosh’.



Easter Nest Pitch Hunt Is Now On!

Drafy Nest Pich Logo last stageThe Nest Pitch agent round is now on! 

The Slush Bilbies have sorted through the entries to help the Nest Bloggers whittle down the entries. Now the top seventy-two entries have made it through and are waiting for agents to hop on by to make requests.  

Please remember that until the agents have finished making their selections, comments are for agents only. If you want to cheer on your favorite prior to then, you can do it in the comments of this post.  

Between now and 8am April 19th USA EDT  

To find out more about the Nest Pitch Easter Pitch Hunt go here and the Rules and Conditions here. You can find the full schedule here and the participating agents here

Here are my selections – all very intriguing!

 JK-1 ADULT Paranormal Romance – WØLFF: RISE OF THE VALDYR


JK-3 ADULT Science Fiction – BIOHUNTER

JK-4 NA Science Fiction – VIRTUAL REBEL


JK-6 NA Paranormal Romance – THE FERGUS SHE

JK-7 NA Romantic Ghost Story – UNDER THE YELLOW ROSE



 You can find the rest of the entries snuggled safely in the other bloggers nests: 

 Brooke Powell    

Kimberly P. Chase   

Sharon Johnston

Tina Moss     

Amanda Foody   

Dannie Morin  

Sharon Bayliss   

Stacey Nash 


 Good luck to everyone who has made it to this point! May your nest be filled with lots of chocolatey requests.  



Drafy Nest Pich Logo last stageThe submission window for NestPitch NOW OPEN, and will remain open for 24 hours 12-noon 1st April to 11.59am 2nd April (USA EST) There’s no cut off number. Everyone who submits during the window will make it into the contest.

All entries will receive a receipt.  If you don’t, check with Nik Vukoja on Twitter @nestpitch and/or @nik_vukoja

Send your entries to nestpitch @ outlook .com (no spaces)

For formatting instructions and rules go to this post go to:

NestPitch is a contest where participants email their 35-word pitches together with the first 300* words of their (finished) manuscript,(100-word for PBs).

The selected pitches will be featured on these blogs:

Brooke Powell 

Kimberly P. Chase 

Jeffe Kennedy 

Tina Moss  

Amanda Foody 

Dannie Morin 

Sharon M Johnston 

Sharon Bayliss 

Stacey Nash

Then agents, their identities hidden, will leave a request for pages, partials and/or fulls of the featured pitches.

 Entries must be embedded within email (no attachments) with following:



Genre: Category/Genre of Manuscript (i.e. NA Romance)

Word Count: (nearest 1000)

PITCH: 35-word (max) log-line

Answer to qu:

(question: in one sentence, max 15-words in the sentence: If my Main Character were an Easter Egg, what flavour would he be & why)

First 300-words of your manuscript. If the 300th word falls in the middle of a sentence, go to the end of the sentence.  For Picture-book submissions please only submit 100-words.  If the 100th word falls in the middle of a sentence, go to the end of the sentence.

Please ensure

(i)                 your manuscript has not been featured in another Pitch Competition in the past 12 months – that’s ANY pitch competition (not twitter pitches), from the period April 1st 2013 to 31st March 2014

(ii)               your manuscript IS NOT published.  This INCLUDES self-published.


Our Slush Bilbies & Nest Bloggers will read through the pitches and pick the top 72 pitches for the agent round; April 17th – 18th  

We try to get a good mix of various genres, but the writing comes first. Basically, if the submissions aren’t ready, it’s in your best interest that we pass, the last thing anyone wants is your manuscript to be old & tired from “doing the rounds” before its ready.