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About the author
jcmontgomery
Novel: Salvation's Curse
Genre: Science Fiction
31,219 words so far  

About jcmontgomery

Location: Nevada

Home Region:
United States :: Nevada :: Reno

Website: http://www.redbubble.com/people/jcmontgomery

Favorite novels: The Shadow of the Wind, The Time Traveler's Wife, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan

Favorite music: Depends on the scene. I use music to set a tone and go with it.

Non-noveling interests: Photography, Ice Hockey (playing and watching), Reading, Walking by the river

Joined: March 29, 2008

This Year: Official Participant

NaNoWriMo History:

NaNoWriMo posts: 0

NaNoWriMo buddies: 13

 

Brief Author Bio:

A native San Franciscan currently residing as a Northern Nevadan, J.C. Montgomery firmly believes that fulfillment doesn’t come with a dollar sign, however it sometimes can be found downing a venti skinny vanilla latte with an extra shot at her local coffee house.

When not reading, writing, and panhandling for lattes, she can be found reviewing books as The Biblio Brat, posting to her online journal Loose Leafs from A Commonplace and co-hosting a couple of writer’s groups over at RedBubble, an online art gallery and creative community.

Synopsis: Salvation's Curse

Jane Campbell hates the world and can't wait until it ends. In fact, she has a pretty good idea when. Exactly when as a matter of fact.

Society, shunning those who have shared this knowledge, has set itself up for destruction as those who would have saved them could care less if society blows itself up, or is obliterated by the danger headed their way.

Salvation's Curse is a novel set in the near future, in a time where a generation of young men and women have been gifted by unique traits and abilities. Due to societal pressures and outright bigotry, they now live on the fringes, knowing what is about to happen and powerless to do anything about it. At least most of them think they are, including Jane.

But there is a way. And only those like Jane can make a difference. However, they first must learn, or be convinced, that their gift is not a curse as they have been led to believe, and that society is indeed worth saving.

Excerpt: Salvation's Curse

Stirring my latte, I bury myself in the paper, reading the latest about the military's plans for evacuating the coast. Not realizing a family had taken the table next to me, I look over the edge of the paper to see if my ride has arrived yet. As I do, I catch the eye of a little boy about to take a sip of his cocoa. It's obvious from his reaction that he sees what I usually kept hidden behind my dark glasses.

"Mommy! Mommy! Look!" The young child gestured wildly pointing in my direction. "It's one of them."

Turning, the woman looked momentarily startled before her face turned, as they always did, to repulsion and anger. Staring at me, but speaking to my mother she hissed, "How dare you."

"I...I...don't know what you mean."

"This is a public school. Regular children attend here. You know, as in normal."

The wrath of emotion set in her eyes never left my face as she began to rail against my mother for daring to bring me outside, and to within sight of Johnson Elementary and all those who could be "infected" by my presence.

"Mom?" I asked later, after she had taken me out for ice cream, hoping I would be distracted from her puffy eyes and the defeated look she'd acquired and never completely lost. "What does 'inflected' mean?"

"'Infected' honey. And it means...," her voice breaking, "it means nothing really, nothing you need to worry about. Hey, how about we pop in that DVD you got from grandma and snuggle on the couch until daddy gets home?"

Not wanting to see her any more unhappy than she already was, I let it go. But later, in my room, I got down my dictionary and looked up the word.

I never forgot what I learned that day. About how other people really saw me. I also never forgave them for how they made me feel, and for taking away my mother's special smile, replacing it with one that glowed of pain instead of love. Not that she ever stopped caring for me, but I think part of her died that day; the one that used to believe I would ever have a chance at a normal life.

Pushing up my glasses, I immediately turned the page and pulled the paper up higher to cover my face.

"Mom."

"Not now honey, mommy's trying to fix Samantha's bib. Can it wait?"

"Maa-ahm," the little boy whined. "It's one of them."

I didn't have to look to see his chubby finger pointed in my direction, to see the look in his eyes. I knew.

I could tell from the sounds of rushed packing and mumbled words that I would be sitting alone again, undisturbed with my drink and my paper.

Good. Just the way I like it. Leave and take your snotty, finger pointing, bigot-in-training with you.

It was times like these that solidified my belief that the world was about to get what it deserved, and I couldn't wait to see it happen. In fact I planned on having a ring-side seat, cheering on the final act, hoping for an encore guaranteed to bring the whole house down around our ears. Mine included.

Just as long as I got to see all those who've taken away everything I've ever loved go first.

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