Excerpts: The Beginning of My New Crazy Urban Fantasy Novel

So last night, while watching Notting Hill and wallowing in self-pity (okay, just a little! everyone's entitled to a little!) and all that great stuff, the idea for a new novel hit me.  As long as all my old files are being held captive on my fried computer and I can't access them, I might as well do something new.  And I'm actually really excited about this.  It's a long time since I've worked on anything new, and I'd like to go indie with this one.  So this is going to be a bit of a whirlwind.  Here's a sneak peak of the first page.  Still super rough, but hey, that's how it goes.  Enjoy! 

title:  To be determined
working title:  The Realm of It
genre:  Urban fantasy
description:  Something a little light and crazy, inspired by Gaiman, Carroll, Lewis, and a lot of snippets I've had locked away in my head for a long time.  Female teenage main character.  Some adventure.  Some romance.  Some crazy characters and wild places.  Get stoked! 

= = =

There is a day in every person’s life that he or she will never forget. 
In this day there’s a moment, just a single second, when two separate worlds touch and everything about both of those worlds changes. 
My day was a Wednesday.  I had the day off school and I was shopping by myself in the city.  It was a cool, rainy day with the kind of wind that can only be found on Clark Street where the lake breeze flops about between buildings and blows even sturdy people halfway across the crosswalk.  This day was one of the most blustery and my raincoat flapped around like crow’s wings.  My umbrella had blown inside-out blocks ago, so my hair was dampened into strings by the drizzle.  I’m pretty sure I had mascara blotched under my eyes too.  I only tell you this because when my moment came, I didn’t look pretty, or dazzling, or special.  When the wind knocked me into the side of the Rock’n’Roll McDonalds and we locked eyes, I looked like a drowned rat. 
He looked like some kind of lost thing, maybe a lost dog, rushing along minding his own business until the wind blew me into his path.  His eyes were hazel, one kind of greener than the other.  I couldn’t tell his hair color—rainslicked like mine, only his curled over his forehead like he was drenched for a photoshoot.  He was standing with his arms awkwardly straight at his sides, one of them gripping something that looked like a teapot.  I was clutching the wall, too stunned to stand straight.  And we stared at each other. 
By now you think that I’m going to tell you how I fell in love at that moment.  How I saw my future in that boy’s eyes, and we were instantly fiercely connected to each other. 
But that wasn’t my moment.  My moment was the moment right after that, when the boy with the hazel eyes lifted his teapot and cracked it into the side of my head.    

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