Nest Pitch SJ 2: Blood Reign

Category/Genre: YA Fantasy

Word Count: 77, 000

Pitch: Seventeen-year-old Alice awakens on a medieval battlefield in another world. Forced to disguise as a man, she sets out to find home—even if it means killing people to survive and unleash her awakening bloodlust. 

If the MC was an Easter Egg he/she would be:  I would be dark-chocolate filled with coconut shards: Bitter with a heart of ice. 

Excerpt: 

I’ve been fighting with a sword since I was eight. It was the only way to feel alive; to feel the blood running in my veins. I stalked my prey, eyeing him from behind my mask. My ragged breathing was amplified inside this fencing suit, drowning the outside noise. The suit was supposed to protect me, yet it served to protect him from me.

Strike him. Make him bleed.

Ignoring the demon whispering inside my head, I lunged forward stabbing the blade toward his heart. The hall exploded with cheers as blood-rush sang wildly in my ears. Adrenaline slithered through my veins, echoing the sweet, sharp metallic twangs of clashing swords.

“15-8! Southampton college—champion of regional games!” the speakers blared into the screaming crowd. And just like that, it was over.

I pulled back, my jaw ticked with irritation. It was too quick. I should’ve stalled a bit more rather than lunging toward him like a homicidal maniac.

I clenched my fist on the sabre, curbing myself from giving in to the roaring hunger. My opponent grabbed his mask and yanked it off. Sweat streamed down his face, his skin flushed.

“Good game! Man, you’re one tough badass.” He saluted me with his sabre.

“Duh, our captain’s the best!” My classmate Leona flanked me immediately, jumping with excitement, knowing she won the bet. I pulled my mask off, and my blond hair escaped from the hairband and tumbled down my back in long waves. My opponent gaped at me.

“You’re a girl?” he spluttered.

I raised my eyebrow at his remark. He saw me earlier when we saluted just before the match started but my hair was tied into a tight bun so he must’ve assumed I was a man. The white jacket didn’t help much either. It covered my chest and any signs of femininity. 

post signature

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s