The Writer who discovered, pitched and sold the Erin Brockovich story to Hollywood.
Pamela DuMond

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Young Adult Heroines: Bella, Katniss, Madeline.


What if you discovered that your soul mate lived three centuries before you were even born? Sixteen year old Madeline learns that falling in love, and falling through time doesn’t have to be accidental, could be deadly, but is worth the fight of her life.  The Messenger's Handbook.
'Madeline' in The Messenger's Handbook
A couple of years ago I wrote my first novel. It was a snarky mystery called Cupcakes, Lies, and Dead Guys. It's funny and silly it makes people laugh. Or swear. Sometimes both. Mission accomplished. (There are more Cupcakes books in the works.)

Then I read the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyers.  (Epic romance.)
Devoured The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. (Action/adventure thriller!)
I was bitten, I was smitten, I fell in love with YA Novels - aka Young Adult. And decided to write my own: The Messenger's Handbook. I named my heroine, Madeline. (Don't laugh, I named her after Madeleine Stowe the actress who played Cora in Last of the Mohicans - the movie. An epic flippin' romantic thriller that you must watch!)
I knew Madeline could not be as passive as Bella. Also knew she couldn't be as strong as Katniss at the beginning of the story. I needed her character to arc in a big way. She could be haunted by her past, scared of life. But falling through time and into a forbidden love with Samuel changes her. Discovering her dangerous destiny is to become a Messenger either makes her step up to the plate, or could kill her.

I hope you enjoy this excerpt written in Madeline's POV from The Messenger's Handbook
xo,
Pamela DuMond

The Messenger's Handbook - Excerpt #1
Before
A low-pitched droning penetrated my ears and rattled my bones. Being a city girl, I usually didn’t care about a little noise. Could be an el train whistling nearby outside my bedroom window, a bus chugging down the street, or a garbage truck picking up trash on any normal day. But it wasn’t any of those, ’cause this day definitely wasn’t normal.
I tore through a thick wood, my breath ragged, as skinny tree branches whipped across my face and body. One slapped my forehead and something warm trickled into my eye. I wiped it away and saw that my hand was bloody. I should be used to that by now.
But I flinched, and tried not to cry out in pain because he was hunting me. If he heard he would calculate how far away from him I was. Then he would know how quickly and easily he could catch me. And if he caught me, he would kill me.
But I didn’t want to die, yet. Not here, not now. I had to find a way to be with my Samuel.
I started running again but this time shielded my face with my arms. My feet kicked up some dirt as well as a few yellow and orange leaves blanketing the ground.
I fled past ancient pine trees with thick round trunks and branches covered with needles that towered over me like a canopy when I tripped on the hem of my skirt. I heard a loud rip as I fell toward the forest floor. My arms pinwheeled and momentum, possibly the only thing on my side right now, jerked me upright.
I stopped for a few seconds to catch my breath. The droning had grown louder. Good. I was closer to that place where desire, action, a little bit of luck and magic would join forces. I’d find that moment to slip through time’s fabric, travel hundreds of years back to present day and warn or even save people. Especially my Samuel.
Then I heard his voice, muffled, but close by. And his words chilled my soul. “Stop running, Messenger,” he said. “You cannot save him or yourself. You cannot save anybody.”
I’m sixteen years old and cop to the fact that in terms of life wisdom, people think teenagers have been through next to nothing. But I’ve recently learned the hard way that I’m not your average teenager, and wisdom cannot be measured in birthdays.

(The novel's currently on sale for 99 cents.) 

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