We are currently seeking representation for our novel, THE HUNTRESS AND THE WIND. If you have any questions or if you’re interested in a copy of the synopsis, please contact us directly at firstname.lastname@example.org.
AZURA’S CHOSEN: THE HUNTRESS AND THE WIND is an adult epic flintlock fantasy complete at 135,000 words. With elements of adventure, romance and dark fantasy, our betareaders have compared the story to Sarah Dennard’s Truthwitch, and Sabaa Tahir’s An Ember in the Ashes, for the strong female protagonists, and The Blade Itself, by Joe Abercrombie.
In a city where magic is forced on slaves as a means of control, two young women’s powerful connection to their magic attracts the attention of two secret factions seeking to free the city’s slaves: one by destroying the systems of oppression from within—the other by exterminating the masters.
Slavers capture Astara DiRel, a goat hunter, from her peaceful village on the southern continent where women rule. She is trained and sold to an estate where she meets Dahlia Vessa, a celebrated performer, who secretly works for one of the rebellious mage-run factions. Along with the growth of a strong friendship, the combination of their magic becomes an incredible force that proves not only unstoppable, but deadly as well.
As a result, Dahlia is imprisoned, while Astara unexpectedly gains her freedom. Now Astara must navigate a hostile, foreign city and find a way to free her friend before their own magic destroys them both.
Brandi and Salinee have been friends and have written together since kindergarten. Brandi is an attorney by day and an award-winning writer by night. Her short story, Christmas Lights in July, can be found in Texas Shorts, an anthology, Vol. I. Salinee lives in Washington D.C. She worked for 8 years in the AAA video game industry as a video producer on titles like Skyrim, Fallout, Dishonored and now freelances for indie game studios.
Quick 60-word Pitch
In a city where magic is forced on slaves as a means of control, two women’s powerful connection to their magic attracts the attention of secret factions that seek to free all the city’s slaves: one through political subversion and clandestine operations, and the other by exterminating the masters.
Astara’s first instinct was to buckle, to let her weak knees collapse and her body slap against the stone bricks under her feet—to let the Ministers of the Arcane Order lop off her head for her disobedience. But instead, she shuffled forward, one bare foot after the other, and lumbered after the procession of dirt-covered, skeletal captives.
A mocking sliver of dawn yawned over the city’s roofs and drenched her pale, soiled skin a hazy shade of rose. She squinted and gritted her teeth, momentarily blinded by the bright light. Her sharp finger nails, dirt like black crescent moons jammed under their length, bit into her palms when she clenched her fists.
The sun might greet her this morning, but she did not expect to see it set.
Two Ministers of the Arcane Order, floor-length robes brushing the ground and telltale silver masks cloaking their features, marched her and the line of captives into the center of the square. Astara shifted her eyes to glance up at one, to stare at the strange, otherworldly foreigners that covered their entire bodies in leather or cloth. But she dare not twist her head. She’d learned already that any sign that the fight or flight had not already been beaten out of her would be met in more pain. The deep, crusted lashes on her back were evidence, and of the dozen or so captives, Astara’s were the only ankles encased in thick iron shackles.