add as buddy
send NaNoMail
visit website
Genre: Other Genres
About writelikeamadthingLocation: England Home Region: Age:18 Website: http://stores.lulu.com/AKTbooks Favorite novels: Generation Dead, Wicked Lovely, Fearless, Oh My Goth, Thicker Than Water Favorite writers: Neil Gaiman, Melissa Marr, Terry Pratchett, Anne Rice, M.Alice LeGrow, Ellen Schreiber, Holly Black, Rachel Caine, Karen Chance Favorite music: Emilie Autumn, The Cruxshadows, Johnny Hollow, In Flames, The Birthday Massacre, Iron Maiden, Trivium, Linkin Park, Hannah Fury, Evanescence, The Cure, HIM, Rammstein, Depeche Mode, Unter Null, Bella Morte, Ayria, Element Eighty, Killswitch Engage, Diva Destruction, Switchblade Symphony, RazorBladeKisses, Rasputina, Marilyn Manson, Kissing Violet, Sopor Aeturnus, Dr. Steel, Skeletal Family, Inkubus Sukkubus, Dope Stars Inc, The Sisters of Mercy, Siouxsie Sioux, October Project, Seether, Faith and the Muse, Dresden Dolls, Nightwish, Slipknot and many more! Non-noveling interests: Music of many varieties, esp. Goth, industrial, rock and metal; bellydance, reading (duh), movies (Pan's Labyrinth!), eating junk |
Joined: November 2, 2009 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 90 NaNoWriMo buddies: 15
|
|
Brief Author Bio: Hi, my name's Amy, I'm a self-published author who writes mainly for the hell of it XD I also write articles on alternative fashion and culture for online zine Mookychick and have a few poems and short stories published in magazines and anthologies. |
|
Synopsis: Generation Z & Test Tube Baby
Generation Z: Social outcast Piper Woodford was one of the few survivors when the world as we know it came to a brutal and bloody end. She has become both a warrior and a leader, and those who once tormented her are relying on her to keep them alive. But Piper is changing, becoming hard and cold to adapt to her new life… and this is having an unpleasant effect on her already-fragile sanity.
Test Tube Baby: Activists Jonathan and Willow may have bitten off more they can chew when they break into a high-security lab and bust out Experiment Zero, the prototype for a new kind of human.
Excerpt: Generation Z & Test Tube Baby
Generation Z:
Piper Woodford reached the top of the high street on the stroke of midnight. The street was cloaked in cool grey river-mist, seeping up from the banks of the Tarrant. Slowly, mournfully, the bell in the old church tower began to toll.
Piper shifted her tight grip on the handle of her machete. She held it before her as she advanced, keeping to the middle of the street, eyes darting left and right to pick out the slightest movement. Shop doorways loomed large, shadows so deep they made her heart pound and her blood roar in her ears. Her breath was shallow with terror, the air so cold that each inhalation stung the back of her throat.
The high street was a scene of chaos; windows smashed, shops torched, paving stones splashed with blood. In the faint, eerie moonlight she could see the pale chalk lettering inscribed by a desperate hand across the base of the ornamental fountain outside the mall, each letter a foot high – The End Is Come.
Piper hadn’t even reached the fountain itself before she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. Her stomach lurched. She whirled around, trying to batten down the urge to run, and took a slow step backwards, towards the fountain. She needed something solid behind her. Or they would overwhelm her in seconds.
This time she heard as well as saw the movement, a scuffling sound from one of the empty shops, and something scurrying about within. Piper took another step backwards, her eyes riveted to the shop front, the jagged glass around the edges of the broken window glinting softly in the frail light. She was sure she saw the gleam of eyes in the darkness.
Don’t run, she told herself, biting down hard on her lower lip. Don’t. If she ran, Piper knew, they would give chase.
Her heel bumped against the base of the fountain and she came to a halt, tears of fright threatening to blur her vision. She had seen what happened to those who got caught. She had seen the slow, horrible ways they died. Perhaps it would be her turn tonight.
writelikeamadthing's Writing Buddies
|
|
