Word Count: 80,000
Pitch: For 21-year old Scarlett Earle, being the President's daughter has its perks, like getting exempt from a worldwide alien slaughter that happens once every four years.
If the MC were an Easter Egg, what flavor would they be and why?
Milk chocolate with a dark center; sweet on the outside, but bitter on the inside.
Excerpt: (300 words)
There is a problem with the curtains in my room. The one hanging on the right is cut in diameter about an inch shorter than the one on the left and it causes the sunlight to laser beam right into my eyes every morning at exactly 7:13AM. No sleeping in for the heir to the Presidency. That is what my mother would say if I complained to her about it. I guess instead I will bring it to my dad who will have no choice but to help out his darling baby girl.
Normally I would slowly open one eyelid while the other remained closed, my face stuck in a permanent wink, but this morning I keep them both shut. I focus my breathing to a slow, rhythmic tempo, in through the nose and out through the mouth. Heat begins racing up my body like a thousand tiny fire ants making their way through my veins and letting me know that any attempt to calm myself down will fail. When the heat reaches my face the intense tingling sensation almost feels good for a minute and I scrunch my eyes closed even tighter and wish that the numbing would continue on into my brain. Today is the day, today is the day, today is the day… that is all my brain has been spitting out since the sun laser beamed me awake.
Today is the day that I turn twenty-one.
Most girls my age would be jumping out of bed, ready to shed that young kid skin and put on that shiny adulthood jacket, but not me. Well, under any other circumstances it probably would be me, but unfortunately I am not like most girls my age. I am the President’s daughter, which makes turning twenty-one a little bit more complicated.