By admin On Jul 9 2007, 12:00 pm
Thank you again to everyone who participated in the Best First Line Contest. The response was amazing and certainly more than we ever expected. As we’ve gone through the rounds, it’s shown me quite dramatically just how subjective and different each editor’s tastes are. From almost 300 entries down to just 10 was tough work. I don’t know about the other editors but I enjoyed every round, seeing what would come next.
Though we did end with only ten people who will be invited to submit their manuscript for this contest, Samhain will be re-opening submissions in the next month and everyone is invited to submit at that time , whether you moved on from the first round or not.
We ended with ten winners, since we currently have ten actively acquiring editors. Below, I’ve posted the editor’s name and who they chose. When you are ready, please visit our submissions page and follow the submissions guidelines/instructions given there. Please include the name of the editor who’s invited you to submit. Congratulations to all of the final winners, I can’t wait to see what comes of these manuscripts.
Without further ado…
Imogen Howson chose:
Do you think I won’t find you? Kendra Douglas jerked awake, almost feeling Adam’s heavy breath on her neck. She froze, listening for any movement, and heard only her own jagged breaths. Her gaze scanned the room. Wood nightstand, pastel painting over the bed, suitcase by the door—yep, another hotel room.
Carrie Jackson chose:
Claw marks separated the shirt into three pieces. Dark green blood dripped from the ends, hitting the cement in an annoyingly cheerful beat. Meg Summers rolled up the mess and tossed it into the nearest dumpster before shrugging back into her leather jacket. A slight cut down its left sleeve and a broken zipper were the extent of the damage the ghoul managed before she’d killed it. She half-heartedly attempted to wipe away the splotches of rancid blood decorating her jeans while keeping an eye on her surroundings.
Jennifer Miller chose:
Sam felt the engine sputter and then die — exactly according to plan.
Of course, this may not have been his best plan ever.
Through the windshield he could see the deserted country road shimmer in the afternoon heat, the nearest gas station at least a mile away — why the hell was he doing this?
He knew the answer though, and it wasn’t the need for gas that had him walking down the road, empty gas can swinging at his side.
It was a second chance and, flawed plan or not, this time he wasn’t going to play it safe.
Anne Scott chose:
Aneirin saved my life the day I met him, and saved it twice again before he finally killed me. It’s a chance encounter: I’m in a seedy little pub on the edge of Montmartre, drowning my sorrows in a pint of ale, when a stranger sits down next to me and slings his arm around my shoulders like we’re old friends. Beneath the table, I feel the point of a dagger press against my ribs.
I know what he wants, of course — money — and it’s a pity for us both that I have none.
He decides to rough me up as punishment for my poverty, and that’s when Aneirin steps in, though neither of us saw him coming.
Sarah Palmero chose:
It was the kind of day that poets never write about. Jimothy could think of half a dozen ballads, at least four epic poems, two sonnets, and a limerick, all of which related to the weather, but none of them recounted the sort of relentless drizzle that had assailed him since before dawn. He knew the tale of a blasted, desert country, cursed by its own gods. He was positive that
he could sing at least a song apiece about hail, sunshine, snow, and even ordinary overcast skies. This, though.this frankly sucked.
Linda Ingmanson chose:
Seated across the bar from Mariana was her target, the most dangerous pirate in the galaxy. He was here now, weeks before she’d expected him to take the bait, and neither his decade-long reputation nor the grainy holos in his Unipol dossier had prepared her for the sheer physical presence of the man. Jared LaFleur wasn’t the tallest or the strongest man she’d ever met, but his implacable air of command and wintry dark gray eyes had her fidgeting in her borrowed waitress’ uniform and wishing she were anywhere but here.
Mariana cursed the slight tremble in her hand as she slid a shot of whiskey across the bar to him, remembering at the last moment to rotate her wrist so he could see her alexandrite signet ring.
His eyes narrowed, and a wolfish grin spread across his face as he called to the bartender, “Logan, how much for an hour upstairs with this Imaran?”
Laurie M. Rauch chose:
On an average day in the US, you would never walk out your front door and find a llama waiting for you. The sun shone like a ball of white fire overhead, making me squint at the tequila bottle in my hand for a moment, but no, not a hallucination — he still stood right beside my trailer, wearing a straw hat and aviator glasses. This could mean only one thing.
My archenemy, Finneas Q. Rucker, (well, if I cared enough these days to devote myself to a nemesis, it would be him) was back in town.
The llama curled back its lips and spat; for once, we were in complete agreement.
Eve Joyce chose:
The Reverend Mother used to tell acolytes that if men were going to brawl, they should at least be naked and glistening with oil.
Leda’s money was on the hulking brute with the Cydian blade, but right now she needed the other guy to win. That one had information she needed, and she wasn’t going to get it if he got himself killed. She was just about to intercede when her quarry tripped on his feet and knocked himself out cold.
Heidi Moore chose:
If there was one thing that Kelly Rawlins knew, it was that when you got home from work on a Friday night, you were not supposed to find the man that took your virginity and dumped you the next day sitting on your couch. So when she saw Jake Caine lounging against the cushions, his eyes caressing her with wicked delight, she froze for what felt like an eternity before her gaping mouth closed with an audible snap.
“It’s good to see you, Kelly,” he said, standing to approach her
with a long, lazy stride. His voice was just as deep and husky as
she remembered and her breath caught at the sound of it.
Making sure her own tone was laced with just the right amount of
sardonic amusement, she replied, “I’d say the same to you, but we both know I’d be lying.”
Lindsey McGurk chose:
The early spring day started out sunny and normal – not the kind of day that would end with me soaking wet and curled up in the trunk of my own car. But my life lately has been anything but normal. I’m Elizabeth Montgomery Peacock – I know – I’ve heard all the jokes and even made up a few myself. My parents are to blame for the first two names, not knowing that by the time their daughter was in elementary school, a more famous Elizabeth Montgomery would be twitching her witchy nose on TV. The last name came from my late husband, George – George Peacock, accountant extraordinaire, or at least I’d thought until he died and left us virtually penniless.