The lovely Sharon Bayliss is hosting a great contest with Krystal Wade, one of the editors from Curiosity Quills.

And this is my entry for the contest:

Query:

Nadine Sterling’s world is covered in darkness.

Natural catastrophes, disorder, and crime run wild. Humanity believes God has abandoned them.

Even in this chaotic world, Nadine’s life is normal—NYU student, barista in a coffee shop, talented singer, and dutiful daughter—except for her visions of Victor Gianni, her imaginary boyfriend.

She has excuses for her visions: exhaustion, daydreaming, and hallucinations, but is forced to confront them when she bumps into a real Victor, one who doesn’t know her and shuns her away. After the encounter, Nadine’s visions change to those of eerie fates, gods she’s never heard of, demons with sharp claws they are not timid to use … and instructions.

To discover whether she’s losing her mind or involved in a larger, obscure scheme, Nadine must follow the instructions—with the real, rude Victor—before the evil behind the darkness catches up with them.

DESTINY GIFT is new adult paranormal romance complete at 70,000. It would be perfect as a stand alone, but I do have plans to create a trilogy called EVERLAST.

First 500 words:

If telepathy or soul-seeing existed, Dr. Larsen was using her powers and performing one of those, if not all, on me. Behind her cat like glasses, her eyes were uncanny and cold. She was analyzing me. My posture, my gestures, my eyes.

I averted my gaze from hers and sat on top of my hands, hoping they would stop shaking.

“Nadine Sterling,” she began, her tone almost caring. “What brings you to me today?”

The insanity of mind, I could say. Or that my regular psychologist was busy, and since I had to follow the university policy and have my weekly session today, I had no choice but to meet with her. However, there were no rules specifying I should open up to her, so I didn’t say anything.

“Nadine?” Her tone became more pressing.

I glanced back at her. Her knuckles were white around her pen, her foot swung rapidly from her crossed legs, and her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail which gave me the impression she would freak if any strand fell loose. I didn’t like her. I didn’t feel at ease with her.

She sighed, leaning back on her chair. “I know it is difficult to trust someone you don’t know, but I’m here to help you.”

True, though that didn’t make confessing my sins any easier.

Should I try? I barely spoke about the insane things lurking in my mind to Cheryl and she was the psychologist assigned to me. She was more than that. Since I was accepted into NYU almost one year ago, when she became my therapist, Cheryl also became my friend.

More than once, an idea popped in my mind: our friendship hindered my chances of opening up to her. What if I told her about my problems and she pushed me away? I couldn’t afford losing her friendship.

My luck shone a little brighter when I thought about opening up to someone I didn’t know well. How could I lose a friend I didn’t have?

I let myself relax.

My mind took off to the place I most loved and, at the same time, most feared. “I have dreams.”

One of Dr. Larsen’s delicate brows cocked up. “Dreams? About?”

My eyes focused on the darkness coming through the large window behind her. It was afternoon and the sky was dark grey. In the distance, I could see the streetlights forming shadows over the tall decaying buildings that once formed famous Manhattan. A bat or two flew around. If I stood up and peeked down, over the university walls, there would be hookers and junkies and muggers milling the streets, and litter tossed through the lanes. If I were on the sidewalk outside the school, reek would invade my nose, making me gag.

“In my dreams, New York isn’t like that. The world isn’t like that.” I pointed toward the dark outside. “The world isn’t in chaos, the huge bats aren’t attacking people right on the streets, the agriculture isn’t in crises. In my dreams, the world is safe. The sun shines high up in the blue sky.”

And, because I love pics (who doesn’t?), here is Nadine:

Image by Suzanne van Pelt.

What do you think of my entry? Any suggestions to improve it?

Cheers,