Genre: YA Contemporary Fantasy
When seventeen-year-old Piper tracks her parents to Cape Verde, the last thing she expects is Everland. Not only has she jumped into a childhood story, but she’s the daughter of a Lost Boy. Except they aren’t boys anymore. The gem that kept them from aging has been stolen by the pirates and they’ve switched roles—the boys growing old and the pirates now teens. If the Lost Boys don’t get the gem back soon, their age will catch up to them for good.
Though Piper’s dad doesn’t want her involved, she’s not about to waste her years of training in fencing and archery. She must use her skills to save them before time runs out. When she meets the enemy—curly-haired, leather wearing captain with a hook—she’s in trouble. She must protect her heart and return the gem before the Lost Boys die or she’ll be trapped there to watch it happen.
EVERLAND is a YA contemporary fantasy retelling of Peter Pan, complete at 69,000 words.
One step out of my bedroom and I knew the day had arrived. First clue: the smell of burnt toast drifting from the kitchen. Second clue: when I walked through the doorway, Dad jumped. Third clue: well, it was mid-June. Enough said.
Dad wiped the juice from his polo, which really was another clue…but who’s counting?
“Where’s your suit, Dad? Aren’t you going to work?”
His gaze flicked toward me. “Oh, hey Piper. I didn’t hear you come in.”
I shrugged, trying to keep things light. “What’s with the polo?”
Dad gave up on the blossoming stain and leaned against the counter. “Your mom and I are going on a trip today. Didn’t she tell you?”
I shook my head. Mom didn’t have to tell me. About a week before their annual trip, silence settled around the house like a suffocating blanket. They were the worst at keeping secrets and I couldn’t take it any longer.
“Oh…well…” Dad scratched behind his ear, avoiding my gaze. “We leave in an hour.”
Even breaths. Play ignorant. “What about me?”
My parents had no idea my bag was already packed. I hid it under my bed the day they started walking on egg-shells, whispering behind closed doors. They weren’t leaving me behind again. Protecting me from the world was one thing, keeping it hidden was another. I adjusted the straps on my fingerless gloves and rubbed the gnarled skin on my palms through the leather. Eleven years after my accident and my hands still hadn’t changed.
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