Genre: YA Thriller
Word Count: 83,000
Pitch: When a serial killer starts burning people alive and releasing his crimes online, eighteen-year-old Liv ignores the media’s frenzy, until she stumbles upon one of her classmates tied to a burning stake.
“If you have to wear a disguise, it’s obviously a bad idea,” Bridget says so loud I pull my phone away. It’s a good thing she’s not actually here or else I’d be getting that look from her too.
“It’s not a disguise,” I say. “It’s an outfit.”
“This. Is. Not. Healthy.” Bridge bites each word, like they’re one of her rock-hard protein bars. Seriously, if I wanted to deal with this shit, I would’ve answered the phone when Mom-Bot called.
I readjust my rearview mirror to apply my wine-red lip-stain. “If you’re so against the way I am, why are you my friend?” I throw the tube into my cup holder and readjust my bra underneath my sheer black top. Strapless, they’re a mega pain sometimes. I bet it’d stay in place if I filled it out better. My flip-flops get kicked off before I feel around for my silver-studded boots.
“Just think about it. Please? You’re out of control. Don’t go to the creepy dive bar, just don’t,” Bridge says. “It’s so shady. And that guy? Ew. Seriously. Ew. Totally beneath us, Olivia.”
“Liv,” I correct her and hang up. Before I can put it away, my eyes catch on my home screen-pic. Every time it comes to life, it’s on a new photo from my gallery. Usually it’s me, or Bridge and me, or Jude (lots of Jude), and sometimes the Burners band.
Now it’s Evan. He’s smiling at me from the driver’s seat — this seat, the seat I’m in right now — and saying something.
MURDER MOST FOUL
Mr. Boddy is found in the dining room, face down in his spaghetti, garnished with fresh basil and bay leaves. His hand gripping the fork sports a small puncture, the flesh around it caved and discolored.