Query
Dear Super Villain,
Implanted
shortly after birth with a device that tracks her every word and move, Rynn 713
has learned to live a life of quiet rebellion. A Seller in the day, but a Cyber
Hacker in the shadows, she is content with meaningless hacks for the best coffee
and latest hairstyles, hiding behind stacks of illegal books and movies, and
longing for the Book Seller next door, whom she can never have.
But when
her friend and the disabled daughter she has been hiding away are brutally
executed because of Rynn’s careless mistake, she can no longer blind herself to
reality. And when the Seller’s District is raided and all their treasons are
exposed, she and the Book Seller are faced with a choice: run, fight, or die.
But how do you run when they know everything you say and everywhere you go? And
how do you fight when the only weapon you have is a computer? In one move, Rynn
is hurtled into an underground world where hope and passion are the only ways to
survive and hacking is the only route to freedom.
CORRUPTED
is a YA cyberpunk with a heavy dash of romance. It is complete at 77,000 words.
Thank you for your time and I look forward to hearing from you.
Brianna R.
Shrum
First Page of Corrupted
The tracker in my forearm began to beep at 3 a.m., yanking me
from a peaceful sleep. I stared at it for a moment, wondering whether the GPS or
microphone had prompted the warning. When the words, “…the gunpowder, treason,
and plot…” came fuzzily through the television, I concluded it was not a
malfunctioning GPS and panicked, leaping from my broken down couch to turn off
the television. ‘How did it unmute?’ I wondered, frantically searching for
someone besides myself to blame. My eyes came to rest on the loathsome remote,
which I had apparently fallen asleep on, forcing the volume to rocket out of
control. I never watched television…edit- interesting television… with the volume
on, but chose to read subtitles, because any buzzword repeated too many times
would undoubtedly trigger an inquiry and a Screener to monitor me for days,
until The State realized I wasn’t a threat. Or worse, it could trigger a
full-fledged investigation. If my house was raided, I would be dead in a
heartbeat.
My heart stopped in my chest as, seconds later, my door was
assaulted by heavy knocking. It seemed that someone had wrenched the oxygen from
the room. This was it. I was going to die. The Enforcers would come in, find my
stash of contraband, and shoot me on the spot…if I was lucky. My heart pounded
against my ribcage relentlessly. It felt like little razors lined the inside of
my throat, drawing blood with every ragged breath. I shakily climbed the steps
to the main level, covering the opening to my hidden room with a floor tile and
a rug, in case the Enforcers at my door were less than thorough. The barrage on
my front door continued, and I stopped for a moment at the entry, took a gasp of
air, and opened it.
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