YA Fantasy: ACCRUE'S END: PURSUIT

Author's Name: Eric Smolinski

Category: YA

Genre: Fantasy

Stage of Completion: Mostly Polished

Preferred Critique Style: All the Flails (Dear god..help me)

Cat Person or Dog Person? Dog Person.  Cats are cool, but I like dogs better.  Also I'm allergic to cats.

Tea or Coffee? Coffee.  Tea is evil.  Coffee doesn't taste great but at least it smells good in the morning.

Short Pitch

"A young mage pursues his runaway godfather, at a time where towns and cities fall under unprecedented attack.  In his pursuit, he discovers the attacks, those orchestrating them, and his godfather may have a connection, and must risk death battling bloodthirsty creatures and evil mages to uncover the truth.”

Writing Sample

Blood trickled down the young man’s arm, running from a wound upon his right shoulder.  He grunted, grasping the tail of the carnivorous fish whose teeth had broken the skin and yanked it off, its teeth dragging along his shoulder before coming loose.  It snapped its jaws, attempting to sink its teeth into him again.  He tossed the creature into the air, a short sword appearing within his right hand, and slashed it in half, the two pieces landing upon the sand.

His other hand pulled his hoodie and t-shirt aside to get a better look at his injury.  “Stupid sandfish.”  Then, to the fish.  “That’s what you get for putting a hole in my hoodie!”

The sound of shifting sand caught his attention, growing louder even through the nearby crashing waves.  He looked up to see them, four more sandfish heading his way.

“I can’t just have a relaxing moment to myself, can I?  Enjoy the sunset?  No, of course not,” he grumbled, another short sword appearing in his left hand.

They were quick to approach him, all at once leaping from the sand with open maws.  He barely had time to avoid the attacks, falling right and swinging a blade wildly, missing his targets completely.

“Can’t handle a few sandfish, Kyo?” a man asked from a distance.

He swiftly returned to his feet, eyes falling upon his godfather, unable to mistake his spikey, bright red hair from any distance.  “Oh, hey Alden.  So, yeah, how about giving me a hand here?”

“But you’re the one who keeps saying you want real combat experience.  Well, here it comes.”  He pointed to the sandfish coming at him once again.  “You’re sixteen, you should be able to handle sandfish.  Let’s see what you’ve got.”