TITLE: Sorry's Not Enough
GENRE: Commercial New Adult
WORD COUNT: 97,000
PITCH:
If emotional
wall-building were an art form, Charlotte would be a grand master.
After being betrayed at a young age by the one man she should've been
able to trust, she builds an impenetrable fortress of solitude. At
least she thinks it's impenetrable, until a summer writing workshop
brings Steven into her life. With his obnoxious ego and stupid good
looks, he's somehow immune to her Stay the Hell Away from Me
pheromones. Even more bizarre is that for the first time, Charlotte
can't quite bring herself to really push him away.
The unexpected romance
screeches to a halt when Charlotte and Steven walk into the same
classroom at the start of the school year and find themselves on
opposite sides of the desk. Steven's quick with the apologies, but
sorry doesn't seem to cut it when you've just found yourself cast as
a modern day Lolita, you know?
Obviously the
universe is telling Charlotte that keeping Steven at arm's length is the
only way to avoid getting hurt. Resisting the warmth of his embrace
is easier said than done, though, especially when it's evident Steven has no
intention of letting her go.
And so the cycle of their relationship
begins. Over the course of several years they share moments as
passionate lovers, periods of warm friendship, and months of
barely-civil tension. How can she hope to create a healthy
relationship with Steven when she's never confronted the relationship
that destroyed her ability to trust in the first place? And by the
time she finds the courage to do so, will sorry be enough for Steven?
Sanguinolent sunset. There's a word you don't see every day. Charlotte circled it with her red pen and drew a smiley at the end of the line, below where she'd called out a different phrase for being trite. She continued making notes in the margin as the others took turns giving feedback. By the time she was done marking up the poem, the paper was also sanguinolent.
She looked up when the group grew quiet. Her turn. She looked down at the poem again and hoped its author wouldn't be offended. What was his name? Steven.
“It's a little confused,” she said. There was a pause and a shuffle of papers.
“What don't you understand?”
She snapped her chin up and was taken aback by the force of his gaze. No adjective could adequately describe the shade of green staring back at her.
“I'm not confused. Your poem is.”