Twelve-year-old Justin shouldn’t be up late playing computer games, but he wants to blast monsters into digital goo. He definitely doesn’t expect a real dragon to hurtle out a portal by his front door and set a neighbor’s house on fire. Before the firefighters arrive, the dragon disappears. Nobody believes Justin’s story, and then a sphinx masquerading as a police
inspector accuses him of arson.
Looking for a way to clear his name, Justin digs through the rubble of the ruined house. He finds what the dragon hid there – his mate’s egg. The sphinx texts Justin, “Practical Lessons for Dragon Egg Maintenance. Sign up now or choose what to pack for your trip to Juvenile Hall, button-downs or hoodies.” Going for the lessons, Justin accepts a quest from the sphinx
to return the egg to its mother.
He steps through the sphinx’s portal into another world where dragons are intelligent but near extinction and the egg in Justin’s hands is their last hope. Pursued by a dragon desperate to recapture the egg even though it would doom his kind, Justin must interpret the sphinx’s texted clues to find the mother. But if he can’t reach her in time, dragons will be gone
forever and Justin will never see home again, not even Juvenile Hall.
Complete at 46,000 words, A LEGACY OF FROST AND FIRE is an upper middle grade science fiction/fantasy. While standalone, it does have series potential. The adventures are informed by my work as an evolutionary ecologist (also known as bug-napper, mud expert and swallow wrangler) and experience as a sailor and pilot.
Thank you for your time and consideration.
Heather Hawke
@Heather_Hawke
http://heatherhawke.com/
I crouched under the covers so Dad couldn’t see the
glow from my cell phone. He’d flip if he caught me awake after midnight. I
texted, “Beat game. Blew everything up.”
My parents wouldn’t understand I needed to relax by playing video games, what with pre-algebra homework every day and yet another book report due for language studies. If I didn’t get decent grades, my computer ‘privileges’ dried up.
My phone buzzed with a new message, but it wasn’t from one of my buddies. It read, “Justin. Do not skip this class: Practical Lessons for Frost Dragon Egg Maintenance. All Lab. No Lecture.”
Some loser must’ve got my number and this was his idea of a hilarious joke.
But maybe the message was an ad for a new computer game. I checked again. The screen name of the person who sent it was “Sphinx.” The game was probably fantasy. I might buy it. Sounded sweet.
I yawned so the corners of my jaw cracked. Maybe I should go to sleep. My dad would peel the covers off me before the sun rose in the morning, even if it was a Saturday. He’d drag me on some hike, or bike ride, or kayak trip. Just once, I wished he’d let me do what I wanted.
I fluffed up the covers so I could see better and tapped in another message, “Can’t make gaming party.” No, instead of bringing my laptop to a friend’s house, I’d be discovering a whole new world of blisters.
A light flicked on in my room so I stuffed my phone under the pillow. I was busted. Trying to think of an excuse, I pushed aside my old plaid camping blanket. But Dad wasn't there.
From the window, electric bright light rippled across the wall. The light shaded into pink and turned burning red.
A noise from outside roared like a freeway at rush hour and an enormous thump shook the bed. Adrenaline surging through my legs, I ran to the window, threw it open and leaned outside. My mouth fell open. Frozen lightning hung in front of my house, stretching from the lawn up to the roof. It looked like a cracked-open door with a spotlight behind it.
Across the narrow street, red haze swirled around a hulking animal the size of a backhoe. It cast about, as if looking for something.
Smoke drifted into my room, making me cough. The animal snapped its head up. It gazed directly at me with golden eyes big as my fist. The pupils thinned to narrow vertical lines.
I jumped back from the window. Stumbling further away across the room, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Then my head hit the opposite wall with a bang that made my ears ring. The creature’s stare pinned me like a bug.
The door crashed open beside me and Dad charged through. “Justin! There’s a fire!”
My parents wouldn’t understand I needed to relax by playing video games, what with pre-algebra homework every day and yet another book report due for language studies. If I didn’t get decent grades, my computer ‘privileges’ dried up.
My phone buzzed with a new message, but it wasn’t from one of my buddies. It read, “Justin. Do not skip this class: Practical Lessons for Frost Dragon Egg Maintenance. All Lab. No Lecture.”
Some loser must’ve got my number and this was his idea of a hilarious joke.
But maybe the message was an ad for a new computer game. I checked again. The screen name of the person who sent it was “Sphinx.” The game was probably fantasy. I might buy it. Sounded sweet.
I yawned so the corners of my jaw cracked. Maybe I should go to sleep. My dad would peel the covers off me before the sun rose in the morning, even if it was a Saturday. He’d drag me on some hike, or bike ride, or kayak trip. Just once, I wished he’d let me do what I wanted.
I fluffed up the covers so I could see better and tapped in another message, “Can’t make gaming party.” No, instead of bringing my laptop to a friend’s house, I’d be discovering a whole new world of blisters.
A light flicked on in my room so I stuffed my phone under the pillow. I was busted. Trying to think of an excuse, I pushed aside my old plaid camping blanket. But Dad wasn't there.
From the window, electric bright light rippled across the wall. The light shaded into pink and turned burning red.
A noise from outside roared like a freeway at rush hour and an enormous thump shook the bed. Adrenaline surging through my legs, I ran to the window, threw it open and leaned outside. My mouth fell open. Frozen lightning hung in front of my house, stretching from the lawn up to the roof. It looked like a cracked-open door with a spotlight behind it.
Across the narrow street, red haze swirled around a hulking animal the size of a backhoe. It cast about, as if looking for something.
Smoke drifted into my room, making me cough. The animal snapped its head up. It gazed directly at me with golden eyes big as my fist. The pupils thinned to narrow vertical lines.
I jumped back from the window. Stumbling further away across the room, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Then my head hit the opposite wall with a bang that made my ears ring. The creature’s stare pinned me like a bug.
The door crashed open beside me and Dad charged through. “Justin! There’s a fire!”
Sure wouldn't want that hulking thing setting its sights on me! Good job and best of luck! : )
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