I am debating which way to go with this. I have finished my first book - it's about 25,000 words which really fits the criteria for a young adult novel. I am really gearing my book toward young adults and want to reach that market. I finished designing and drawing out an idea for my book cover. Again this is a little extreme but it fits my title and the object and idea of the book. I know that a book cover can make or break a book. And I know that the book cover needs to reach the market that is intrigued and enticed by the book cover. I guess I am looking for feedback on this post whereas most other posts do not ask for that.
I am going to include my book cover drawing as well as an excerpt from my book. I want to know what you think. I have been doing some research as far as how to publish and such. I really don't want to have to sink a lot of money that I do not have into a literary agent, but some publishers don't accept manuscripts without it. So we will see what happens.
Again ... The title of my book is EXPOSED: A Memoir of Lost Days. The cover of my book is a little risque and I know it. So please do not continue if you think this will be offensive to you. The content of my book is a little graphic but it is a memoir, an account of a time in my life that marks a turning point for me, my journey, my faith, who I am today, who I became for years after that incident. This is the most vulnerable I have ever been with an online audience, or any audience for that matter, but if this flies then I will have to be extremely vulnerable with millions because my story will be exposed to the nation.
So here goes nothing....
It's dark. I'm still. I can hear the television playing and music streaming from the next room. I cannot move. I open my eyes, but see nothing. Suddenly everything comes into focus. I see a girl lying on a bed in a dark room. I'm floating and watching below. It's like there is a movie playing and I'm merely a spectator. The door opens and I hear heavy feet walking across the floor. The carpet is soft but the feet are heavy and loud. I see him put his hands on her legs and I feel hands on my legs. He rips her pajama pants off. I suddenly feel bare, naked, exposed. I try to move, but cannot seem to lift a finger. I focus every muscle and bone in my body. I need to help her. I need to save her. I watch him peel the clothes off her body. Tears roll down her face. I feel a tear fall from the corner of my eye.
She is mumbling and begging, “No.... Stop... Please... Don't...” He jumps off the bed and starts searching through drawers.
I start yelling, “Help. Someone help. I can hear you in the next room. Can you hear me?”
Coming up empty handed, he decides to disregard his search as he crawls back onto the bed.
Wiping a tear from her cheek, he says, “Don't cry baby. You know you want it. You deserve it. I'm going to show you what a real man feels like.”
Then he put himself on her and inside her. The look on her face struck me with pain and sadness. The ground grew closer, I could feel the sheets below my skin. His arm wrapped around me.
He whispered in my ear, “I don't want to hurt you. You know you liked it. Why the tear?”
I lay there, stunned. I try to roll onto my side, try to roll away, but he grabs me and draws me near. He holds me so tight.
He whispers again, “You're not going anywhere.”
I hear the door knob turn, but it won't open. Samantha is on the other side. Sudden knocking, then more rapid banging on the door until he jumps out of the bed and unlocks the door. He tries to stand in her way.
“What do you want?” he yells, “We're not done in here.”
Without saying a word she pushes through. Kneeling next to the bed, she brushes the hair out of my face. She sees the tear stained face before her, pleading with dark empty eyes. No words come out.
Samantha asked me if everything was okay, if anything was wrong, she tried to get it all out of me. She wanted to know what had happened. But nothing would come out. Finally she just pulled me into a sitting position, starts picking my clothes up off the floor. Like a robot, quiet and automatic, she helps me dress. She picks me up out of the bed and helps me maneuver my way to the bedroom door.
He grabs my arm as I try to leave, looks me in the eye and says “Tell your brother we are even.”
In one swift motion, she pushes him away and pulls me out the door. We tumble down the stairs, through the house and crawl under the barely open garage door.
My brother... what does he have anything to do with this? Which brother? What is he talking about? I don't understand? Why me? What is going on?
All I remember is that it felt like I was flying out of the house. I don’t remember how many steps I actually took but it felt like I was floating just above the carpet. She yelled at them trying to get information out of Maurice or to get Shawn to tell her if he knew what had happened or what was going to happen. Both of the guys kept quiet and all Maurice said was that I asked for it.
My legs barely would work, my body was so heavy, and my feet like stones. Every step I took felt like slick spaghetti falling from a ladle back into the pan. OUCH. Suddenly I am brought back to reality. I am on the sidewalk. I must have tripped over myself. Samantha is helping me up. We are struggling to walk down the street. The sun is starting to peek over the edge of the earth. What time is it? I feel her hand around my waist pulling me along. I know it is only two blocks, but it feels like forever. We get to the end of the driveway and she pauses. She kept asking questions but I could not answer, I just wanted to forget about it all.
OK - So that's it for today - I really do need some feedback - even if it's anonymous feedback - again this isn't meant to offend, it's a part of my past; a part of who I am.