Sponsor Jay Torgenson

Welcome back! Last week, Amy got Maxx implanted into her brain and picked her Racing name, Aims. However, she isn’t happy about Racing the rest of her life. Time to add another kink into her life, of her own choice. Oh, and an introduction of the Sponsors. To the story!
**********
“You’re a natural at this,” Maxx praised after another day of training. “Still have a rotten attitude, but you’re good.”

Amy drove Maxx back to the garage, wanting so much to go back to her room to clean off. The training Maxx put her through was different every day. One day they would be on a regular race track, the next on the water. That day’s adventure was on dirt bikes and she was covered in dust.

“How would you know if I’m good?” she asked him, glad that Maxx was self cleaning every time she changed him to a different machine. She really didn’t want to wash his upholstery after the dirt she had put on it. “You said that you’re connected to no one but me.”

Maxx snorted. “My program has a history of what to expect from new Racers. And I’m also linked to your ability to learn. My understanding will grow with yours. That way I can keep up with present events.”

“You’re very complex,” she said. “Aren’t you?”

“The most complex computer program you’ll meet,” he said proudly.

“Maxx,” she sighed. “You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re annoying.”

They came to the garage. Driving in, Amy noticed the other cars and motorcycles that filled it. The other Racers had returned from the Final the day she signed her contract. They all seemed surprised when they found out that she was a new Racer, even though new Racers weren’t going to be introduced until they got a Sponsor in a couple of months.

They shouldn’t be surprised that I’m here, she thought as she parked Maxx in his assigned spot. I’m not the only new Racer. A new Racer would only come in after their high school graduation. There were two other Racers who had just moved in, though Amy hadn’t met them yet. They were also training with their programs and they just never ran into each other.

The other Racers, on the other hand…

“Look!” someone said as she got out of Maxx. “It’s one of the newbies!”

Amy sighed. This was like high school. Only worse.

These people were friendly.

The person who spoke rushed up to her and put his arm around her shoulder. Amy immediately knew this guy. He was the first Racer who introduced himself to her. He was an older man, perhaps in his thirties, his hair already thinning at the top, and way too cheerful about Racing than she thought was healthy.

“Hello, Roadster,” she sighed. No one here introduced themselves by their real names. When she tried to use her own name, they quickly cut her off and asked for her Racing name. It was almost as if they didn’t want real names here.

Roadster laughed. “Oh, Aims,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “You’re funny. How was training?”

“She’s doing very well,” Maxx answered for her. Amy quickly learned that Maxx can, and will, talk to anyone he wants. “Still a sour puss, but I have high hopes for her.”

“High hopes from your own car,” Roadster said, impressed. “You’re going to go far. I wouldn’t be surprised if you get a really good Sponsor your first year.”

Amy forced a smile. “Great,” she said, brushing his arm off her. “But that’s still a couple months away. I have more training to go through. But right now, I would really like to shower.”

“Say no more!” Roadster said, walking off with a grin. “See ya at dinner!”

“These people,” Amy muttered as she went to shower. “Too cheerful for their own good.”

Arriving to her room to get her shower stuff, she was surprised to find mail had been slid under her door. Shower forgotten, she picked the mail up, noticing that one was from Mom and the other was from the Chemistry Academy. She opened Mom’s letter first. Sitting down on her bed, she read it.

Dear Amy,

Life has certainly been different since they took you a week ago. Everyone has been by to ask if the rumors are true. There are some very interesting rumors going on about you, you should know. Someone said that you ran off to join a motorcycle gang, the lady bagging my groceries asked if you had gone into a rehab center, the mail man wondered if you had run off with a lover…

Amy smiled at that one. Everyone in that town knew that she wasn’t interested in romance. She had studies. There was just no time in her life for boyfriends.

However, now most people know the truth. Now I’m getting asked about when your first Race is going to be, what your Racer name and color are… They’re excited for you.

Amy then noticed the tear drops.

But I miss you.

Amy felt the tears in her own eyes well.

The Talent Seekers told me that I could come visit. I’ll try to be there for your first Race. Be careful, Amy. Don’t try anything stupid. As much as I want you home, I want you to live.

Love, Mom

Amy wiped the tears from her face, the homesickness she had been staving off with all the training crashing into her. She sat there balling for a few minutes, suddenly wanting so much to be home, back with her Mom, where things were safe… better…

After she got it out of her system, she read the letter again, noticing the P.S. that she had missed.

P.S. I also sent the letter that the Chemistry Academy sent you. Maybe you can still go, even being a Racer.

Amy laughed softly at that. The same thought had occurred to her as she gone over that contract. It said nothing about going to college at the same time as the Races. It was possible, wasn’t it? The Academy was also in Arco City, even on the same side of the city as the RCC. She could attend classes during the week then Race on the weekends. It could happen.

She opened the letter for the Chemistry Academy, finding exactly what she wanted. It was her confirmation for being accepted into the school and instructions to register for classes. The date to meet with her advisor was set for the next day.

“Hey, Maxx,” she said. Even though his physical form was parked in the garage, his chip was still in her brain. They were linked.

“Yes?” he asked, faking a yawn. “I was enjoying a nap.”

“Whatever,” she brushed off. “What are the chances of cutting off training early tomorrow?”

“Possible,” he said slowly. “Why…?”

She grinned. “There’s some place that I want to go.”
***********
The Chemistry Academy was exactly liked how she remembered it. Amy parked Maxx in the visitor parking and walked to the building that the letter directed her to go. Amy felt herself grinning as she looked around the campus. This was how a college should look like. Students going to and from classes, backpacks or bags bulging from the heavy textbooks that they carried, the grass trimmed, the old feel of the buildings… Amy fell in love with this campus two years before, when her chemistry club came for a competition.

Now this is where I want to be, she thought, finding the right building. Taking a deep breath, she went to find her advisor.

Unlike the inside of the RCC buildings, this one was full of color, people, and life. Posters covered bulletin boards, large banners stretched across the red-bricked walls, the tiled floor in a checkered pattern, and windows allowing the sunshine to create a hazy, academic feeling.

Grinning, she went to the second floor where her advisor was. She checked her watch to make sure that she was there in time.

A few minutes to spare. This is going to happen.

She knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

Amy opened the door and peeked inside. It was a smaller room, much like her room at the RCC, but completely different. This room had the personality of a scholar. The desk was large, much larger than she would have figured, filling up about half the room and covering at least one wall. The other walls had filing cabinets and bookcases. A man in his forties sat behind the desk, working on something on his computer. He turned and smiled as she entered.

“Amy McPeir?” he asked.

“That’s me,” she said, grinning.

“Come in,” he said, standing up and shaking her hand as she approached. “I’m Frank Night. Sit on down, Amy.” She did. “Now,” he said, sitting back down himself. “Congratulations on getting into our school.”

“Thank you,” she said, feeling a bit breathless. She was going to do it. She was still going to go to college.

“I’m afraid that there’s a problem though,” he said, the smile he had quickly disappearing.

Amy felt her heart drop.

“We got a letter from the Talent Seekers,” he sighed, looking chest fallen himself. “You’re a Talented Speeder. You belong in the Races.”

“You can’t be serious,” she whispered, feeling as if a weight was crushing her chest.

“You have a job,” Knight said sadly. “One of the reasons you were picked to come here, aside from your wonderful grades, is that you would have little opportunity elsewhere… We felt that you’d get your best chance here. With you in the Races… You don’t have much of a reason to find another job.”

“Please, no!” she said, the tears already coming. This couldn’t be happening. “You don’t understand! I don’t want to be a Racer.”

He frowned. “You don’t want to be a Racer?” he repeated.

“No!” she exclaimed. “I may be a Talented Speeder, but that’s not what I want. I want to study chemistry. I want to become a forensic scientist!”

“But the Races…” he started to say.

“I can retire in five years,” she quickly said. “I already have a plan. I’m going to win the next five Finals and retire. After that… I will need a job.”

Knight frowned. “I don’t know of anyone who has retired from the Circuit.”

“My Dad almost did,” she pointed out.

“Your dad?”

“Yeah,” she said, gritting her teeth. After a lifetime of hiding the truth about her dad, it was still very strange to tell people who he was. “Target?”

“Target was your dad?” Knight asked, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Yeah!” she said, forcing a smile. “He almost won. The only reason he didn’t was because he and Wrecker accidentally banged each other on the last lap and crashed. There have been changes in the Circuit that stops those sort of accidents from happening.”

“I don’t know…” Knight said, glancing down at the papers on his desk. “It might be possible… But we have to consider giving this chance to someone who can…”

“I can do this!” Amy plead. “And you wouldn’t even have to worry about giving me a scholarship either. My Granddad gave me enough money to pay for college. I will pay to be here! And you wouldn’t have to worry about housing me, or meal plans. Just another student in the class!”

Knight considered her thoughtfully, stroking his beard. “I believe you want to be here,” he said, dropping his hand. “And I want to help you. I’ll tell you what. I’ll email the dean of the college, the RCC, and the Talent Seekers and see if I can’t get them to agree to let you in. Then I’ll get in touch with you and we’ll go from there. Sounds like a plan?”

Amy breathed out a sigh of relief and frustration. “I’ll do anything,” she said. “It’s a deal.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Knight warned.

She scoffed slightly. “To be honest, this is the best thing that’s happened to me this week.”

“You don’t want to be Talented?” he asked shrewdly.

“Think I’m nuts?” she grumbled. “Everyone else does.”

Knight shook his head. “I don’t think you’re nuts. I’ve known a few Talented Chemists who don’t want to be. They have different interest. I think it’s unfair to force the Talented to do only what they can magically do.”

Amy blinked in surprise. “You’re a first,” she said. “Not many people think that way.”

Knight smiled, a kind benevolence she had been missing since she had been taken from home. “Let’s just say that I have a soft spot for the underdogs. I’ll get in touch with you in a few days.”
*********
“Going to college and going through Races?” Maxx asked as they drove through the gates to the RCC. “Are you insane?”

“A bit,” she admitted, glad that it was midday and that she didn’t have to fight the traffic. “Nobody’s asked before.”

“It’s down right crazy!” Maxx accused. “They’re not going to let you!”

“Why not?” she asked, turning back into the parking garage of the RCC.

“Because they believe that you already have a perfectly fine future!”

She snorted. “Maxx?”

“Yes?” He sounded hopeful, as if she would give up this scheme.

“Shut up.”

Amy heard the car give a low grumble but he didn’t say anything more. She had already made up her mind. She would do everything she could to get to college and to earn a degree she wanted.

Racing wasn’t for her.
********
Jason “Jay” Torgenson watched the three new Racers as they sped around a short track. He watched one with interesting, thinking that she might be the one…

He and the other Sponsors sat in a top box as the three Racers tried to show off their skills on the racetrack. He wasn’t the only one to show interest in the three newbies. These were powerful Sponsors, willing to pay a Talented a life of luxury to promote their business.

He was there for a somewhat different reason.

“Well, Jay?” his father Ford Torgenson asked, coming up beside him. Jay took the offered chilled drink from his father without taking his eyes off the Racers below.

“They show promise,” Jay said carefully.

“All Racers show promise when they’re not competing,” Ford pointed out. “And especially when they are newbies.”

“This is the first year you’re letting me Sponsor my own Racer,” Jay reminded him, watching the purple and red streak carefully. “I don’t want to let you down.”

“I don’t think you will,” Ford chuckled, clapping his shoulder. “So, tell me. Who you think would be the best to Sponsor?”

“Depends on if I want to take a risk or not,” Jay quoted nearly perfectly. He had learned business from his father at a young age. Torgerson Industries was a large company that his grandfather had built up. Now, with his father leading the company, it was one of the most influential technology companies in the world.

Sponsoring a Racer might have seemed frivolous, if it weren’t for the fact that the computer chips in the Racers’ heads were of Torgerson Industries.

“The safe bet?” Ford asked, interested in his observations.

“The blue and black Racer,” Jay answered, nodding as the Racer skillfully turned on a dirt road. “Bluebird.”

“Bluebird is a good choice,” his father praised. “Perhaps he’s not the fastest, like that other newbie Road Runner, but he’s a solid choice that will win enough Races.” Ford then smiled. “And I hear he’s quite an item with the ladies.”

Jay smirked. Well, at least Bluebird had something in common with him.

“Who’s the risk?” Ford then asked.

There was only one answer for that.

“Aims,” he answered, his eyes again locking on the purple and red blur of color. “The daughter of Target.”

“Ah, yes,” Ford hummed thoughtfully. “Target’s daughter. It’s a bit of a surprise that she managed to avoid the Talent Seekers for as long as she did. A headstrong woman, I’m told. And going to college next week too.”

Jay nodded. It was a shock to the Sponsors when Camellia introduced the three newbies and the extra bit of contract that came with Aims. Camellia seemed very put out as she explained that Aims had gotten permission to attend college as she Raced. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of a Racer attending anything but their job.

After a few questions, Jay found out that Camellia had no choice in the matter and had to let Aims attend college. An advisor to the school, a letter from Aims’s high school principle, and a well argued point from the Racer herself had convinced Camellia’s boss that it was perfectly alright for the girl to attend the Chemistry Academy.

“She plans to win five Finals and retire,” Jay commented to his father.

“Yes,” Ford said softly, a slight tone of disapproval. “A livewire, that one. As interesting her parentage is, and how devoted she is to her goal, she’s a risk. The Racers who try to retire young often end up dying on the track.”

“Don’t you want Racers to win?” Jay asked smoothly. He already knew that answer too.

“You don’t want them winning too much,” Ford said briskly. “You want to Sponsor career Racers, not hotheads that want out.”

Still… Aims was an intriguing young lady. Just from what he had heard of her, Jay was sure that she would be very entertaining to Sponsor.

“I know that look,” Ford said, pointing a finger at him. “Believe me, Jay, you don’t want to Sponsor her. Pick Bluebird.”

“Shouldn’t I start taking business risks?” Jay asked instead, smirking. “It’s the only way that I’m going to learn.”

Ford snorted. “You’ve learned enough. Pick the safe bet. Don’t make yourself promise this.”

Jay scowled. That was an unfair trick.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll pick Bluebird.”

Ford smiled approvingly. Jay didn’t say anything, watching as the Racers came to a stop at the front of their building. The three newbies were escorted inside so the Sponsors could meet them. It wouldn’t be until the next day that the Racers would learn who was the highest paying Sponsor. The Sponsors wouldn’t learn it either.

Mingling with the rest of the Sponsors, Jay enjoyed the small talk with them. He knew most of the people in the room, having shadowed his father for most of his childhood around them. They, in turn, exchanged pleasantries to him, testing him out a bit. Just in his twenty-first year, he was by far the youngest Sponsor, and many of these businessmen were interested to see just how well he would do.

Getting a Racer for a first investment was a bold move, even for a Torgenson.

“Well, Sponsors,” Camellia said, opening the door wide to allow the three Racers in. “Here they are! Fresh out of high school!”

The three Racers did look straight out of high school. But that was to be expected. A Racer never joined the Circuit until after they had graduated.

Bluebird flashed an easy grin at the Sponsors, winking at a few of the businesswomen, who were at least ten years his seniors. They still smiled back at him.

Yes, Jay thought as he watched the younger man interact with the rest of the potential Sponsors, this guy would be a very good choice. He’s likeable, races well, and could hold his own in the room.

Road Runner, another young man with spindly legs that might have contributed to his Racing name, also flittered about the Sponsors. And though he was fast on the track with little fear in his skills, he was decidedly shy among the Sponsors, talking with a lisp that got worse the more he talked. He would also be a good choice. Perhaps not as good as Bluebird, but a decent one that a Sponsor could count on.

Then there was her.

Aims didn’t even bother trying to make small talk with the Sponsors, picking instead to have them come to her. Jay was sure that she didn’t mean to make them come to her. It looked as if she were trying to get away from them.

She should know that Sponsors are important, Jay wondered as he discreetly watched her edge around the room, trying to get away from the Sponsors who followed her. She won’t win any Finals if she can’t pay for the entrance fee.

However, if she knew that, she obviously still didn’t want anything to do with the Sponsors.

Jay made sure to make it a point for his father to see him talking with the other two Racers first before he made his way to Aims. It also gave him time to watch for when other Sponsors wouldn’t be clamoring for her attention. Taking the moment, he approached her.

She stood by the window facing the track, frowning down at it. Jay knew that expression in her pretty blue eyes.

She really didn’t want to Race.

“Excuse me,” he said, smiling pleasantly at her. “My I interrupt your musings for a few minutes?”

She actually glared at him. Jay smiled despite himself. He was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in Arco City. Handsome, charming, and quite wealthy, there were several women who would love to just touch him.

This Aims looked ready to kill him.

“Do I have a choice?” she asked, folding her arms around her small form. She was very pretty, in a petite way, and if she smiled more. Even in that jumpsuit, colored purple and red, her Racing colors, looked good on her.

“You have many choices,” he teased. “Talk to me willingly or I keep bugging you. Your choice.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine,” she muttered. “What?”

She was blunt too. She was getting more interesting by the second. “You have some really good skills,” he said, nodding down to the track. “I’m surprised that you don’t want to make a career of it.”

“That’s what everyone says,” she pointed out. “Anything else you want to gossip about?”

Jay smiled. “Actually,” he admitted, “I just wanted to meet you. I was a big fan of your dad.”

Her face froze, hiding whatever emotion that came with the memory of her dad. Interesting, he thought. He finally got another emotion out of her other than annoyance, even if that emotion was the lack of one.

“Too bad you couldn’t meet him,” she said stiffly, her posture rigid. “I’m a poor substitute for him.”

Jay managed to keep his smile, though he inwardly flinched at her observation. It would have been nice to meet Target, but all that was really left of him was his sour daughter.

“Nonsense,” he scoffed, brushing her comment to the side. “From today’s demonstration, I’d say that you’re as good a Racer as your dad was. If not better.” He then winked at her, earning him another scowl. “Besides, you’re much prettier to look at.”

To his amazement, Aims actually blushed at that one.

“Are you a Sponsor?” she asked, quickly changing the subject and her expression to another scowl. “You’re a bit young, I’d think.”

“Young I may be,” he said, holding a hand to his chest, “but I am heir to the Torgenson Industries. My name is Jay Torgenson.”

“Torgenson,” she mused, looking him over. “Your company does a lot of tech work…”

“Yes,” he beamed. “Yes we do!”

“Then you’re also responsible for the computer chip in my brain?”

“We engineered it.”

“Oh, really?” she asked, feigning interest.

He beamed. “Do you like it?”

She actually smiled, though it wasn’t a smile he wanted to see. It seemed very malicious.

“Here’s my thanks, then,” she said, faking a smile.

POW!

Jay stumbled back, his stomach hurting from her fist.

“Thanks for leashing me as a slave,” she snapped, then stomped off, muttering darkly under her breath.

Jay rubbed his stomach, feeling a smile come to his lips. Aims was a very fascinating woman.
************
Ha! I love Amy’s personality. It’s nice to write a character that’s not afraid to say and do as she pleases. This will make her relationship with Jay (and everyone else) very interesting indeed. I hope you’ve been enjoying this story as much as I’ve had writing it. Next week: Amy gets a Sponsor.

Enjoy the journey!

Aims and Maxx

Welcome back everyone. Yep, I know it’s a later post than usual, but that was because I had to work today. Ugh. I’m ready for a new job. But enough of my complaining, let’s get to the story. Time to introduce one of my new favorite characters!
*********
Her head hurt. Badly.

Amy opened her eyes, blinking at the bright light overhead. What had happened again?

“Hey,” a voice said. “Get up already. Speak me into existence!”

She frowned. Where was that voice coming from? She looked around her small room. Nothing looked different. Her bags were still where the men had left them, the room was deprived of any personality and her bed felt more like a stiff cot.

“Come on!” he said again. “Get up! Speak me into existence!”

“Bother someone else,” she muttered, rolling over to her side, her head spinning at the motion. “I’m not going to justify your existence with inane chatter.”

“Perfect,” the guy huffed. “Of all the Racers I could have been with, I’m stuck with Miss Sour Pants.”

Amy snorted. “Well, you could just leave me alone to my misery, Mister Grumpy.”

“I can’t,” he said sourly. “I’m a computer chip, missy. They implanted me into your brain so I’m stuck with you.”

“WHAT!”

Amy sat up, ignoring the dizziness as she frantically felt her head. She froze as her fingers found stitches just behind and below her right ear.

“They’ve turned me into a freaking cyborg!” she yelled, glaring around her room to find something or someone to hurt.

“You’re not a cyborg,” the computer chip said, annoyed. “They implanted me into the Talent part of your brain. I enhance your Talent. I don’t replace it. If you were a cyborg, they’d replace something with a machine. I do not do that.”

“Oh, great,” she snapped. “Just what I always wanted. A computer in my brain!”

“I am Maxx,” he snapped. “Don’t forget that.”

“Maxx?” she said, glaring at the empty air around her head. Where could she glare if the voice was coming from her head? “That’s an acronym for something?”

“No,” Maxx said. “It’s just what the programmers called me. As I told you, since you weren’t listening the first time, I enhance your Talent.”

“And how do you do that?” she asked.

“You speak me into existence,” Maxx said. Then he paused. “Though, perhaps, your room isn’t the place to do that… Let’s go to the warehouse.”

“Warehouse?” she repeated. “I’ve been here for a few minutes.” She paused. That surgery to implant Maxx took more than a few minutes. “Conscious, at least,” she amended. “I don’t know where anything is.”

“They didn’t give you a grand tour?” Maxx asked.

“Uh, no,” she huffed. “They probably implanted you into my brain first because I don’t want to be here. They’re probably tracking me right now with you.”

Maxx snorted. “I’m separate from the Circuit. They have no control over me. If they did, that could put control over you, and that would make you a slave, which has been illegal for generations. No, the only one who controls me is you.”

“Fine,” she muttered, standing up. “Whatever you say. Then how about you tell me where to go, Master Annoying.”

“To the hall, Mistress Sarcastic!”

Following Maxx’s instructions, she wandered out of the building. It was evening and there still wasn’t anyone in sight. It was a bit eerie to her that no one was around. Not even the Talent Seekers.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, following his promptings to go across the lawn.

“The Grand Race Circuit Final was today,” Maxx pointed out. “Everyone is having parties.”

“Do you happen to know who won?” she asked, coming to yet another building.

“I’m not connected to the internet,” Maxx grumbled. “I don’t have live feed coming to me. I enhance your Talent.”

“Whatever that means,” Amy grumbled as she opened the door to the building. She wasn’t the least bit surprised to find it the same white as the inside her apartment building. But it was an empty warehouse, with a cement floor and metal siding.

“Alright,” she said, the door closing behind her. “Now what?”

“Speak me into existence.”

“And how do I do that?”

Maxx sighed. “I’ll try to explain this in small terms that you can understand. I’m implanted into the Talent part of your brain. With me so far?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “If you’re implanted into my Talent, go faster.”

Maxx snorted. “What I do is that I will become a physical manifestation of your Talent.”

“Physical manifestation?” she repeated.

“Yeah, you know, a real object of your Talent.”

“I know what physical manifestation means,” she snapped. “I just don’t know how that works.”

“Then speak me into existence,” he said. “Say ‘Maxx,’ then any racing machine you want.”

“Really?” she said. “Just ‘Maxx’ then anything that I can race?”

“That’s the jest of it.”

Amy thought of it for a moment. “Alright,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Maxx. Sports car.”

The air before her started to shimmer and grow bright. Taking a step back, she felt the air become warm. She had to shield her eyes from the light as it grew brighter.

Crack!

The loud sound whipped through her and she opened her eyes again. She gasped in shock at what was there.

A silver sports car was parked before her, elegant in design and perfect. It was completely stream lined, curves flowing along its length. The dark windows matched the style. It was almost as if Amy was looking at one of the new cars at a car show.

“YES!” the car said. Then it took off on its own, driving around the warehouse. Amy got the impression that it was excited. It did a couple of laps before coming to a stop beside her.

“I’m alive!” the car said. It had the same voice as…

“Maxx?” she asked.

“I told you,” he said, Amy got the impression of a grin. “I’m a physical manifestation of your Talent. Yes, I am the computer chip in your brain. But with my programming, I enhance your Talent outside your body. This is what I’m supposed to be.”

“Oh,” she said, somehow understanding what he was saying. “Then… though you’re still the computer chip in my brain, you’re channeling my Talent into…” She paused, again awed by the beautiful machine before her. “This.”

“You got it, missy,” Maxx said.

“Alright,” she said, feeling good about it. “Maxx, monster truck.”

Instead of the bright light and warm air there was only a crack and Maxx changed. Instead of the beautiful car he had been, he was instead an ugly machine that was covered in rust.

“Perfect,” Maxx said, though he sounded miffed with her choice. “You got the hang of this.”

“Maxx,” she said again, “speedboat!”

Crack!

There was a speedboat in front of her. “Great,” Maxx said sarcastically. “I’m a boat out of water. Pick something else!”

“Maxx, jet plane.”

Crack!

“Are you done yet?” Maxx asked, his plane form nearly filling the room.

“Nope,” she laughed. “Maxx! Pedal bike!”

Crack!

The large plane was replaced by a small dinky bike, one that reminded Amy of the one she used to have as a kid.

“A bike?” Maxx asked, the front tire turning to her. “Really? A pedal bike? I feel so outdated! Change me please!”

Amy laughed again. “Alright. Maxx, sports car.”

Crack!

The same silver car was before her again.

“Ah,” Maxx said, sounding relieved. “That’s better. Alright, Amy, let’s go.” The driver door opened, revealing the lush inside.

“Go?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “A drive. You know how to drive, right?”

Amy snorted. “I know how to drive.” She glanced back outside. “Is it going to be alright? I mean… am I allowed to go out for a drive.”

“You’re not a slave here,” Maxx said. “You can go anywhere you want. Just be back before the curfew and you’ll be fine.”

“They sound like picky parents here,” she muttered. “They need to know where I am at all times.”

“Think what you will,” Maxx said, swinging the door enough to look as if he were waving her in. “Come on, let’s go!”

Still hesitant, she got into Maxx. As she sat, she was immediately hit with how cool it was inside. The leather seat felt like her favorite chair, a perfect fit. The door closed as she studied the inside, amazed at the enterer. The dashboard had everything. Radio, CD player, power outlet, auxiliary port, AC, heating… As she put her hands on the steering wheel, she instantly fell in love with it.

“I’m never going to drive another car again,” she breathed.

“I hope not,” Maxx laughed. “I get jealous. Now, let’s go.”

“You can drive yourself right?” she asked distractedly, still in awe of everything around her.

“Yeah,” Maxx admitted. “But… To be honest, it is a lot more fun when someone is driving me. As an added perk of me being your car for the rest of your life, you don’t need a key for me, because I respond only to you, and you won’t need to pay for gas, since I’m technically your Talent. I don’t need gas.”

“That does it,” she said, throwing her head back against the chair, grinning. “I’m never driving another car again.”

“Good for you,” Maxx said. “Now, let’s go!”

The engine revved. Amy gripped the wheel, grinning. She rested her foot on the gas. “Alright, Maxx,” she said softly. “Let’s go.” She pressed down on the gas.

One wall of the warehouse opened up and they drove out. Amy wasted no time at all to give Maxx the spin that he was waiting for. It was a surreal moment, driving him around in the fading light of day. As the daylight faded, the lights of the city brightened. Other drivers shared the road with them. Amy was sure that none of them were having the same experience that she was. How could they? They were driving home from work, or doing errands, or doing something incredibly boring. She was experiencing her first drive with her first car. Yes, he was manifesting her Talent. Yes, some part of this was unreal…

But she was literally driving her magic.

“So?” Maxx asked as night had completely fallen. “Feel better about being a Racer?”

“No,” she said instantly, driving into the city with no real plan of where to go. “But this does ease it a bit. How long have they been doing this computer chip enhancing thing?”

“Only the last seven years,” he told her.

The last seven years. She stopped paying attention to the Races when her Dad died. No wonder she didn’t know about it.

“Maxx,” she asked, suddenly very interested. “What happens if I win five Finals in a row?”

“You retire.” She rolled her eyes. Maxx had a personality alright.

“What happens to you?”

“The contract says that you get to keep me,” he answered. “At first, the Racers didn’t like us programs, but after the first drive… I don’t know of a single Racer that wants to give us up.”

Amy could understand that. However, it sparked an idea, a plan.

“You want to make a deal, Maxx?” she asked.

“What sort of deal?”

“A deal to win,” she said, smirking. “Be the first to retire, both Racer and Program. You in?”

Maxx laughed. “I live to win.”
**********
The paperwork began the next day.

Maxx was parked in the parking garage next to her building. He told her that now that she had “spoke me into existence” that he would no longer return to nothing. He was real and therefore needed a place to stay. By the time they returned from their drive, the Talent Seekers were there, waiting to escort her to bed.

These people are trying to control my life, she thought as she flipped through the papers of the contract that everyone talked about. It was a monster of a beast, fifty pages long, detailing everything from the color she and Maxx would wear when competing to what events she would attend.

“And then Sponsors would have their own say in your contract…” Camellia said.

“Whoa,” Amy said, sitting up. “What Sponsors?”

Camellia and the other Talent Seekers seemed a bit surprised.

“There were Sponsors during your dad’s day,” Camellia said with a frown. “Didn’t you pay any attention?”

“I was four,” Amy snorted. “Dad was all that mattered during the Races.”

“She has a point,” one Seeker muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Camellia.

“Sponsors are very important,” Camellia said. “They’re the ones who will give you money, pay for your entrance fee into the Races…”

“Back up!” Amy said, slumping back in her chair. “Entrance fee? I thought Speeders got in automatically.”

Camellia smirked, waving her finger back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah! There are expenses to you Racers, you know. Your computer chip is no small purchase. You’re going to need a Sponsor to cover your costs, which are building right now, and to take care of your money so you don’t get into more debt.”

Amy glared at the woman. Debt already? “You’re not making this any easier,” she grumbled. “You claim that I’m supposed to enjoy life here and then proceed to tell me that I can’t do certain things, that I’m under debt… and that I have to people please the entire time that I’m racing for my life?”

“You’re not racing for your life,” Camellia scoffed. “But you’ll have everything else. Yes, you should be pleased.”

“Boy,” Amy grumbled, sinking further into her chair. “You have no idea what life is like, do you?”

“I’ve worked my entire life, young lady,” Camellia said, glaring oh so slightly at her. “I’ve gone to college, worked my way up the ranks of the Talent Seekers, and only now enjoy the sweet things in life. Be grateful for what you’ve been given for a simple job.”

Amy returned the glare. A simple job? Racing for her life? This woman really didn’t know anything.

“Fine,” she grumbled, having enough of the woman’s lecture. “When do I get a Sponsor?”

“In two months,” Camellia said, quickly smiling again. Amy was beginning to suspect that the woman smiled at everything to hide her real emotions. “Before the next season of Racing begins. Maxx will be training you in Racing, since that is part of his program.”

Maxx is the only good thing that’s come of this, Amy thought.

“Now we need to discuss your name,” Camellia said.

The name. No Racer went by their real names in the Races. It wasn’t dramatic enough for the viewers. These were Talented Speeders racing. They were obviously not human and just couldn’t have human names. Heaven forbid.

“What?” Amy asked, leaning forward so she could prop her arm and head on the table. “Don’t you pick it for me?” She fiddled with the contract in front of her. “You have everything else of my life planned out.”

“It wouldn’t be fair,” Camellia said, checking her manicured fingernails. “We may offer advice as to a name, but the decision is yours. I might suggest Grump.”

Amy snorted. “How about Annoyed?”

“There’s already an Annoyer,” Camellia said. “He’s part of another Circuit.”

“What’s your favorite animal?” one man asked, the same one that Amy knew was a big fan of the Races. “Maybe do something like Silver Fox?”

Amy grimaced. “That’s an overdone gimmick, don’t you think?”

He actually blushed.

“We could call you the Purple Monster,” Camellia suggested. “Purple is your main color, anyway.”

“Your suggestions aren’t helpful, are they?” Amy snorted. She sat back up, thinking of her Dad. He picked Target because it was his target to get home.

I want to get home too, she thought, thinking of her Mom, home, friends, the town. Now that she was far from them, all she wanted to go was go there. She had made a deal with Maxx the night before. Their goal was to win the Final five times in a row. Five years before she could retire. That was the aim…

“Aims,” she whispered.

“What?” Camellia asked, leaning forward with a frown. “What sort of name did you say?”

“Aims,” she said clearly. “I want to be called Aims.”

Camellia raised an eyebrow. “Aims? What sort of name is that?”

Amy shrugged. “My Dad had the target to get home. My aim is the same thing. Aims.”

“It would be appropriate,” the fan pointed out, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Everyone is going to know that she’s Target’s daughter. Target and Aims? It’s a family trait.”

Camellia tapped her teeth with a nail. “Very well,” she finally agreed. “Racer Aims it will be.” She reached for the contract and was about to write the name in the blank spot left for the Racer’s name when she glanced back up to her. “You’re sure you want this name?” she asked. “It seems a little…” She paused as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say. “Different.”

“I’m a different sort of person,” Amy pointed out. “I don’t want to be a Racer. I don’t want to be here. My aim is to leave. I want to live my life the way I want to, not spelled out in a contract.”

Camellia sighed, her expression the same as if she were dealing with an unruly child who didn’t know that they were trying to do what was best for her. “Very well,” she said, writing the name into the contract. “Racer Aims you will be.”

Shortly after the last points were explained to her, Amy signed the contract. It was one of the hardest things that she ever had to do.

“Well then,” Camellia said cheerfully, standing up and holding her hand out. Amy also stood and took the woman’s hand. “Welcome to the Race Circuit, Racer Aims.”
*************
And there we have it! Racer Aims and her car Maxx. I won’t lie; I did name Amy’s car after my own Maxx (and I’ve had a few conversations with him as well. I always imagined that he would be sarcastic back to me). And Amy’s Racing name was picked before I settled on her real name. Just an interesting side note that I thought you might be interested in.

Next week, Amy has plans to work the system. Enjoy the journey!

The Race Circuit Center

Last week I introduced my new novel, the story of Amy McPeir. She has everything going for her: going to the college she wants, enough money to pay for it, and a chance for a bright future.

Time to destroy that. To the story!
**********
Amy sat on a cold bench in the early morning, waiting for Mom to come pick her up. She struggled not to yawn too much, though still grinning ear to ear. After the eventful graduation the day before and staying up all night partying with the other grads, she was looking forward to spending the day in bed.

Most people were already gone, having either drove home, found rides, or their parents had already picked them up. She didn’t mind the wait. It was nice to just put her feet up after all the dancing. It made her smile. She really did like dancing.

“Still here?”

Amy glanced around, quickly finding Emily walking out of the school.

“I’m surprise that you are,” Amy said.

The pretty Talented sighed. “I had a couple friends to say goodbye to. I’ll be heading out now.” She kept walking for her car when she paused and half turned to her. “Congrats, by the way. The Chemistry Academy. I hear that’s tough to get into.”

Amy just smiled. “Thank you. Good luck at the Art Institute.”

Emily huffed, tossing her head back. “I don’t need luck. I’m Talented.” She walked off, holding her head high. Amy rolled her eyes and moved uncomfortably on her seat, wondering when her Mom was going to get there.

BANG!

Amy jumped. Spinning around, she frowned at the school. It sounded like a door had been slammed shut, but she didn’t see anyone exit the school. Wondering where the sound came from, she got up to investigate.

“Hello?” she asked, opening the door wide enough to peek inside. “Anyone still in here?”

No answer.

Frowning, she ventured in, noting the mess the seniors made of the gym. Party streamers, popped balloons, silly string, plastic cups, and trash littered the floor, hung from the walls, and even splattered the ceiling. Amy did not envy the janitors their job cleaning up the mess. Walking into the center of the gym, she glanced around, trying to find someone who could have made the noise.

“You’re a jerk!”

“If you don’t want to go out with me anymore, you should have said so!”

“Great,” Amy muttered, glancing to the upper gym where the noise was coming from. Sally was getting into another argument with Jeff. Really, her friend had problems finding good guys. Oh, Jeff was nice enough, but sometimes he had a temper when things didn’t go his way. They were probably arguing about how Sally would be moving to Arco City and that he would be staying behind to attend a Tech school. Amy was a bit surprised that they held off this argument until now.

“Don’t you walk away from me!”

Amy watched as Sally stomped to the railing of the upper gym, tears streaming from her face as she left her now ex-boyfriend.

“I said don’t walk away from me!” Jeff said, storming after her.

“I can do what I want, Jeff,” Sally snapped, spinning around to face him and hitting him on the chest. “I’m leaving for Arco City and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

“Don’t hit me!” he snapped, shoving her back.

“Don’t hit me!” she yelled back, shoving him.

Jeff’s face was covered in rage as he shoved her again.

Sally stumbled back, hitting the rail and began to fall over the edge. Jeff stared in shock as she fell over the side then turned and ran. Amy gasped.

“Sally!” she yelled. There was no time to think.

She used her Talent.

The world slowed down, everything moving at a sluggish pace. Even Sally fell from the railing in a sort of graceful, practiced fall. Amy ran as fast as she could as the world blurred behind her, her feet easily avoiding anything that might trip her. That was how her Talent worked. She could be fast at anything she wanted with grace and ability anyone would envy. She didn’t worry about getting there in time to catch her friend.

She would make it with time to spare.

Moments before, she was in the center of the gym, then she had dashed up the bleachers that were still out to give the seniors a place to sit, then she stood under Sally, ready to stop her friend from hitting the floor. Sally screamed as she fell. Amy readied herself to catch her.

“Oof!”

They both fell onto the ground, the hard plastic of the bleachers not giving way for them. Amy knew that she’d have bruises from this.

“Ouch,” Sally said, sitting up and rubbing her lower back. She was still crying.

“Ouch is right,” Amy grumbled, rubbing the side of her head where she had hit the edge of a seat.

“Amy?” Sally asked, finally noticing her. “Where did you come from?”

Amy froze. Didn’t Sally see her use her Talent? Well, if she hadn’t, she wasn’t going to tell her friend about it. After all, she and Mom spent a lot of time and effort to keep her Talent a secret. They both knew what would happen if someone found out about it.

“I heard noises and came to see what was making the ruckus,” Amy told her. “Good thing I did too. I was coming up the bleachers when I saw you fall.”

“Yes,” Sally agreed, sniffing. “It’s a good thing. That jerk…” She started to ball, more upset that Jeff had broken up with her rather than the fall that could have really hurt her. Amy just sighed, hugging her friend around the shoulder. Sally had her priorities set strange.
*********
Emily couldn’t believe her eyes. She had gone back into the school when she realized that she had forgotten her purse inside when Amy had done something that should have been impossible.

One moment, Amy was standing in the middle of the gym, then in a blur of motion too fast for any normal human, she was standing beneath her friend to catch her out of a fall.

Emily stayed out of sight as Amy and Sally left, her mind in a whirl.

“She’s a Talented,” Emily breathed, watching Amy carefully. Since she was Talented herself, Emily could tell another Talented almost instantly. How Amy managed to keep her Talent secret all this time, she couldn’t say, but there was something she did know.

She had to tell the Talented Seekers that there was an unregistered Talented Speeder running around.

Quickly getting her purse, Emily left the school, careful to avoid Amy. This had to be reported.
**********
It was around lunchtime that Amy finally got out of bed. Rubbing the side of her face, she went to see what her Mom was cooking in the kitchen.

“What’s that smell?” she asked, sitting down at the dinning room table.

“Nothing editable,” Mom assured her with a chuckle. “I promised a neighbor that I’d make some play dough for them. I was waiting for you to wake up to see what you wanted for lunch.”

Amy grinned. “How about we go out to eat?” she asked. “To celebrate my acceptance into the Chemistry Academy?”

Mom also grinned. “I like that plan. Wash up and we’ll get ready to go.”

Amy nodded and started to go for the bathroom when the doorbell rang.

“Amy?” Mom yelled from the kitchen. “Would you mind getting that?”

“Sure, Mom!” she yelled back as she went for the front door. She opened it, wondering who could be visiting.

There were three men, dressed in black suits with dark sunglasses covering their eyes. Amy frowned. They looked like government officials from the movies, buffed up and perhaps not too bright.

“Amy McPeir?” one asked, his stony expression locked on her face.

“Yes?” she answered hesitantly. Who were these men and how did they know her name?

The men flipped out badges, a shinny silver emblem that they didn’t show slow enough for her to make out. “We’re Talent Seekers and we’ve been informed that you’re an unregistered Talent Speeder.”

Amy paled.

“Amy?” Mom asked, coming to the front door. “What’s going on?”

“Ma’am,” the man said, nodding his head a bit towards her. “Did you know that you’re daughter is a Talented?”

Mom paled.

The man switched his gaze between them. “I’m guessing that you both knew.”

“There must be some mistake,” Mom quickly said, coming up behind her and placing her hand on her shoulder. “My daughter isn’t a Talented.”

“Another Talented saw her using Speed,” a second man said. “Emily Halcroft saw your daughter use her Talent to catch her friend from a fall earlier today.”

“Amy?” Mom asked, her eyes wide and her expression terrified. “Is this true?”

Amy hung her head. Emily had seen?

“I’m so stupid,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. “I’m so, so stupid!”

“You’re not stupid, Amy McPeir,” the first man said emotionlessly. “You’re a Talented. We’ve come to take you to the Race Circuit.”

“NO!”

Amy found herself suddenly being crushed by Mom, as if she was going to protect her from these men.

“You can’t take my daughter there!” she said, her voice on the edge of tears. “She’s been accepted into…”

“It doesn’t matter where she’s been accepted,” the man said, finally a hint of annoyance in his tone. “She is a Talented Speeder. Her place is in the Race Circuit.”

“I don’t want to go to the Race Circuit!” Amy started to argue.

The man held a hand up. “You are a Talented, Amy McPeir. You’re place is not with regular people. You should be thrilled and thankful for this chance to be more than a simple person.”

“People die in the Race Circuit!” Amy argued.

“People die everyday,” the man said coldly. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I won’t go!” Amy snapped.

The man raised an eyebrow. “You will go, or both of you will send the rest of your lives in jail for failing to register a Talented.”

Amy paled and locked eyes with her Mom. There was fear in her expression, fear for her daughter, fear of jail, fear of what was happening.

“Mom…” Amy said, tears welling in her eyes.

“Oh, Amy,” Mom wailed. They clung onto each other, crying at their change of fate.
***********
Amy sat in the backseat of a black car, watching as the miles rolled past her window. The Talent Seekers gave her a couple of hours to pack before taking her from her home. Mom cried as she helped her pack. Not that Amy could blame her. She had been crying to.

The three Talent Seekers were still with her, two in the front seat and one in the back with her. They seemed deprived of emotion as they almost had to drag her away from Mom. That, for some reason, annoyed her.

There was no conversation in the car. They didn’t seem to bother and she was too angry at them to start one. She didn’t even ask where they were going. She knew where.

The Race Circuit Center, the RCC, found in Arco City.

Going to Arco City anyway, she thought miserably. But as a stupid Talented.

She should have realized that there were other people in the gym that morning. She should have done something else rather than use her Talent to save Sally. She should have just let Sally hurt herself then get help. That’s what should have happened.

But Amy couldn’t fool herself. Sally was her friend. She couldn’t just watch as her friend seriously hurt herself.

“Who is your father?”

Amy continued to stare out the window. An hour on the road and they finally decided to talk to her?

“Amy McPeir,” the man said sternly. What is his name again? Frank? Bill? Obnoxious? “It’s important that we have this information. His name isn’t on your birth certificate. And your mom must have known who he was. Now, just tell us who he is.”

“Why?” Amy snorted. “He’s already dead. You can’t punish him.”

“Records,” the man stated. “It helps to research the Talented.”

Amy knew that. However, she also knew that half the Talented came from families. Emily was part of the other half that spontaneously happened. She sighed. They probably wouldn’t leave her alone until they knew.

“Logan Phillips,” she muttered. “You’d know him better as Target.”

“Target?”

The surprise in the man’s voice intrigued Amy. Turning to face the man, she saw the shock was also in his face. He had taken the sunglasses off, showing a somewhat handsome face. He was staring at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“That’s who he is,” Amy confirmed. “He got Mom pregnant with me before your lot dragged him into the Race Circuit.”

“That’s why his name was Target!” the man exclaimed, excitement in his face. “He always said that his target was to get home! He meant you and your mom!”

Great, Amy thought with a scowl as she turned back to the window. He’s a big fan of Racing. Just what she wanted.

“Why didn’t you want to be a Racer?” the man suddenly asked, sounding interested. “It’s an amazing career.”

“It’s a career that killed my Dad,” she said blandly.

“Uh…” The man seemed lost for words on that one and didn’t continue the conversation.

Amy stared out the window, watching as the miles flew by. Most of it was farmland. It was all flat and unimpressive. She had seen mountains before and wished that there were some around to break up the scenery. However, the closer they got to the city, the farmland gave way to truck stops, then houses, then businesses, and then….

Arco City. Amy couldn’t help herself as she leaned in close to the window to get a better look at the city. While mountains were taller, the man made structures reached into the sky, a testament to human engineering. There were dozens of the buildings, each trying to out do the other. Amy wasn’t sure what the population of the city was, but she was sure that she would never know. People flocked to big cities like this one because of how much was there.

I should be going to school here, she thought, her heart stinging with regret. I was going to be a chemist. Not a Racer.

However, the car drove past Arco City, and they were back into suburbs. The RCC wasn’t actually in the city but just outside it. Amy wasn’t sure what she was expecting when they finally arrived. More officials? A racing complex?

When they arrived, she was surprised to find that the RCC looked a lot like a college campus.

There were several large buildings crossed with roads and surrounded by large lawns. It seemed very much like the Tech school near her home that she and her classmates would sometimes visit.

Is this really the RCC? She wondered, noting with some reluctance that it seemed like a nice place, unlike what she had always envisioned the RCC would be like. It took a moment for her to realize something else.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, finally noticing that there didn’t seem to appear to be anyone there.

The man raised an eyebrow of surprise. “Really? You’re a Speeder. It’s the Grand Race Circuit Final.”

Saturday, she remembered. There’s always a big Race on Saturday. And the Grand Race Circuit Final?

Fourteen years since her Dad died.

“Is that why you’re so miserable?” she asked. “You’re missing the Race?”

The man snorted. “Don’t you watch the Races?”

“The last Race I watched I saw my Dad die,” she grumbled.

The man grimaced. “You might have a reason then,” he admitted reluctantly. “But Silver Fox is racing. It might be her third win in a row. Six total!”

Two more and retirement, she knew. It was the deal that all the Racers made. Room, board, money, all for spending the rest of their lives in the Circuit. You only retired if you won five Grand Race Circuit Finals in a row. Three had been the max for most. A few, like her Dad, made it to four. As far as she knew, no one got to five.

“Wonderful for her,” Amy muttered.

“Have you picked a name yet?” the man asked, again curious.

The car pulled to a stop, saving her from answering.

The car door was opened for her and she stepped out. There were more Talent Seekers there, a couple of them already taking her stuff out of the trunk.

“Welcome, Amy McPeir,” the lead woman said. She was a shorter woman, a few inches shorter than Amy, with short greying hair and dimples when she smiled. “I’m Camellia Robbins, the Talent Seeker over Speeders. Welcome to the RCC!” She held out a hand to her. Reluctantly, Amy shook the woman’s hand.

“My, my,” Camellia said, grinning. “Quiet sort, aren’t you? Didn’t want to be a Racer, did you? Don’t worry. You’ll have anything and everything you’ll ever want here. You’ll have your own room, food for life, money to do what you want.”

“And a chance to die on live television,” Amy muttered darkly.

The woman’s smile faltered for a brief moment. “Not true!” she said quickly, too much cheerful to be real. “Most Racers live to a nice old age!”

“And still die in this pit,” Amy rebutted.

Camellia’s smile quickly vanished into a frown. “Now listen here, girl, you’ve been given a wonderful opportunity! You have a Talent! You are blessed beyond what most dream of. You should be grateful!”

“Grateful?” Amy snapped. “I was going to go to college, get a degree, do what I want to do. Just because I’m Talented doesn’t mean that I want to be a Racer.”

Camellia rolled her eyes. “Oi. You’re going to be a difficult one. Very well. Let’s get this over with. I’ll show you to your room.” The woman turned on her heel and went for the closest building. Amy followed after, not bothering to seem excited or happy. The Talent Seekers around her were confused as she glared at all of them.

I’m probably the first Talented they’ve met that thinks it’s more of a curse than a blessing, she thought. But there was a reason why she had spent most of her life hiding her Talent. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be a Racer.

She didn’t want to end up like her Dad.

The building they entered suddenly transformed Amy’s initial thought of the RCC. While the outside seemed like any college, the inside reminded her of a hospital. The white hall was sterile and free of anything. The bright lights were a poor substitute for actual sunshine, since there were no windows to provide light. There were also doors lining the hall, close together and, Amy noted, equipped with locks.

“Each Racer is given their own room,” Camellia was saying. “The longer you are in the Circuit, or with more wins, you might be able to get an entire apartment to yourself.”

Joys, Amy thought with a scowl. They were going to keep her in a small room for the rest of her life.

They went up a couple of floors, with Camellia explaining the rules of the building. Amy only half paid attention, noting the curfew.

I’m an adult, she thought. I don’t need a curfew!

“And here we are!” Camellia said, dramatically opening the door to one room. Amy took it as an invitation and entered the room. It wasn’t much. Just as the hall was sterile white, so was the room, with a bed beneath the single window in the room. Exploring a bit, she found the closet and dresser inside it. She had more stuff in her own room at home. The men who brought her stuff placed her things in her room, then stayed as if they were waiting for instructions.

“Where’s the bathroom?” she asked.

“Down the hall,” Camellia answered with a smile. “You’ll be sharing it with the others of this hall.”

“Fine,” Amy sighed. “Can you leave now? So I can unpack? Or are you going to be helping me with that as well?”

“Sour, aren’t you?” Camellia noted. “Actually, there is one more thing that needs to be done.”

Amy frowned. They had her there in the Circuit. What else could they want from her?

One of the men stepped up to her and rammed a needle into her arm.

“Hey!” she snapped, stepping back from him. “What was that for?” Suddenly, the room started to blur. Struggling to stay upright, she had to grab the wall to keep standing.

“What?” she breathed.

“Just relax, Speeder,” Camellia said softly. “Just a little procedure that every Racer goes through. It’ll be over soon.”

Amy couldn’t ask what the woman meant because the world went black.
*************
Oh no! What is happening now? Next week, the introduction to one of my new favorite characters. Thanks to everyone who took a gander at this new novel. I hope you continue to read it. And feel free to share this new story. I suppose that I could hook more people if they start at the beginning of a new story instead of them saying “oh, I’ll get to reading all those other posts someday.” (Which I think what happened to Martin’s stories) Thanks for reading!

Enjoy the journey!

Racer

Welcome back! Yet again, I have written over 50K in 30 days. And that’s not the exciting part. The NaNoWriMo program has another “project” just for fun. It’s called Thirty Days, Thirty Covers. Thirty professional design artists pick on NaNo novel each and they have twenty-four hours to create a cover based only on the synopsis of that novel. It has to be the novel that’s being written that month and it has to be submitted. I’ve always enjoyed this project and have submitted my synopsises in the past, never expecting mine to be picked.

This year was different.

I woke up on Nov 25, validated my novel as finished, and then checked to see what cover they had done for that day. I was shocked to see this!

They picked my synopsis! I couldn’t believe it! There were over five thousand novels submitted, and mine was picked! I was shocked, amazed, and could hardly believe it for a week.

This is an amazing gift to me, though they probably don’t know just how amazing it is. I’ve been very scared to publish my novels. While I’ve gotten good feedback from friends about how much they liked my books, I’ve always had lingering doubts that it won’t appeal to many others. When they picked my novel for this project, it told me something very profound. There are people out there who would want to read my novel. This peeked their interest. I can become a published author. The time has come to stop doubting and just do it. I’ll start with a vigorous editing of Martin’s novels and then submit it to publish. It’s going to be a long process, but I’ll keep you updated.

Now, however, I have written the first part of novel number five. So now, I present it. The synopsis is out and it’s gotten attention. Time to let the novel out. Time to take the stage, Amy McPeir!

Racer

Amy could vividly remember the day her father died before thousands of cheering fans.

It was a Saturday. But, then again, all the major Races were held on Saturday. She and her mom sat in their living room, a dingy small one fit for a single mom and her kid. Like the rest of the basement apartment, it seemed dimmed though it was actually midday. And the colors of the walls matched the grim squander they lived in. But it was all that they could afford on the small paycheck Mom earned. Mom sat on the thread bare couch, busily sewing her work uniform up. Amy sat in front of the TV, despite her mother’s warnings that it would ruin her eyesight. Why she should care? She was only four.

Amy couldn’t sit still as they announcer went through the normal round up of Racers for the day. Why couldn’t they get to the race? After all, it was an important one.

“And there he is!” the announcer said, his voice carried over the screaming crowd by microphone. “Our reigning champ and four time winner of the Race Circuit, Target!”

Amy cheered with the spectators in the stands.

“If Target wins this race,” the announcer went on, “then he gets to retire the Race Circuit. The first in a hundred years to do so!”

“Yeah,” Amy giggled. “Then he can come home.”

Though she and her father had never met, Mom was sure to point him out to her. Mom said that once Dad had retired from the Race Circuit, he could come home and they could finally be a family. Something Granddad wanted for his little girl to begin with. Maybe once Mom and Dad actually married, Granddad would accept them back into the family and they wouldn’t have to live in this dingy apartment anymore.

At least, that’s what Mom always says.

“Racers!” an official called. “To your marks!”

Amy watched fascinated as the dozen or so Racers lined up at the starting line. This Race was on jet skis and the racetrack a large artificial lake. The stands were set up around the lake with huge screens above them. Television crews were on the water, on raised platforms to give them solid ground to shoot from. Amy drank it all in, wishing so much that she could be there, watching with everyone else, to be there with Mom as Dad finally won and retired.

But Mom couldn’t afford that. And besides, Mom got nervous if anyone knew who Dad was.

She didn’t want anyone to know that her daughter had inherited her father’s Talent.

The red light turned orange. Amy started jumping in her seat. It was going to start! Yellow. “Come on, Dad,” she whispered. “You can do this.”

Green.

“And they’re off!” the announcer cheered, the crowd nearly drowning out his own voice. “And, as usual, Target let’s the others go in front of him, letting them burn off their Talent first.”

That was Dad’s way of winning. Let the others work themselves into exhaustion and then he’d take the lead.

“Frankford takes the lead, with Wrecker close behind,” the announcer went on, calling the shots as the Racers tried for the finish line. Amy could barely keep track of the speeding streaks of color as the jet skis went around the track. Racers went too fast for any human eye could see clearly, so they were assigned colors so people would know who was who. Her Dad was red. Amy cheered him on as he started moving up in the ranks, gaining the lead.

“And TARGET TAKES THE LEAD!”

“Yeah!” Amy cheered with the rest, jumping to her feet. “Come on Dad!”

Too restless to sit anymore, Amy squirmed in front of the TV, grinning and cheering her Dad on.

“Amy,” Mom said, “sit back down! I can’t see the screen.”

“Humph!” Amy said, sitting back down. However, she was quickly drawn back into the Race. Dad would make it. He had to.

“Target has a large lead in front of the leaders,” the announcer narrated. “It looks as if Target is going to be the first to… Wait! Wrecker is coming up quickly from behind!”

“Boo!” Amy said, standing up again as the black streak started gaining on her Dad’s red.

“Amy!” Mom said again. “Sit down!”

Amy obeyed the command, watching intently as Wrecker came up beside her Dad.

“They’re neck in neck,” the announcer said. “It’s going to be a close call, folks! This will be Wrecker’s first win and ends Target’s chance of retirement for the next five years. They’re starting to waver, trying to get ahead of the…”

BOOM!

Amy fell back with a cry, staring with shock at the now black screen. Did the TV break again?

Then the scene pulled back, revealing something far worse.

The black she had seen was actually black smoke. A fireball continued to burn on the water. The jet skis came to a sudden halt, unable to make it to the finish line because of the wreckage. Officials hurried to the site, many trying to put out the flames.

The only sounds came from the burning wreckage, a crackling that horrified her. It seemed that it horrified everyone else to. The crowd was silent and the announcer said nothing.

“Mom?” Amy asked, turning around. Mom was strangely pale, the uniform had slipped from her fingers. “Mom?” she asked again, crawling to her Mom’s legs and tugging on her pants. “What’s going on?”

“Your Dad isn’t coming home,” Mom said, tears welling in her eyes. “He’s never coming home.” Mom burst into tears, covering her face with her shivering hands. Amy glanced back at the screen and the burning wreckage, wondering just what had gone wrong.
*************
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee…

Amy hit the alarm clock without even looking at it, stopping the horrid sound of it. Rubbing her face in her pillow, she glanced up briefly to glare at the offending clock. Six-thirty in the morning. An evil time to be up, she was sure. If school weren’t so important, she’d never be up this early.

Groaning, she dropped her face back into the pillow. While it was a big day, she felt very little reason to actually get up. Graduation could wait, couldn’t it?

“Knock, knock!” her Mom said from the other side of her closed door. “Get up, high school grad. Can’t miss your graduation.”

“Why not?” Amy grumbled into her pillow.

“Because graduation is important,” Mom chuckled. “Now, get up. You breakfast will get cold.”

Amy grumbled under her breath as she finally climbed out of her covers. Reaching for the end of her bed, she grabbed a large black hoodie, her favorite sweater, and pulled it over her head. Even though it was spring, it was still a bit chilly in their small two-bedroom house. Although Mom could afford a house now, they tried to save money wherever they could. Including setting the temperature colder than either of them would have liked.

Half heartedly making her bed by pulling the covers up to her pillow, Amy stumbled to the door and opened it. Light temporarily blinded her and she had to blink a couple of times to adjust her sight. The hall was small, much like the rest of the house. Her Mom’s room was opposite hers, with a bathroom between their two rooms. Quickly ducking into the bathroom, Amy relieved herself and washed up for breakfast. Feeling a little more awake, she went into the rest of the house.

The kitchen, dinning room, and front room were all one room, with only a breakfast bar dividing the kitchen from everything else. Mom was already at the stove, frying another egg for herself. Amy noticed that she was already wearing her work clothes.

“Do you have to go in early today?” she asked, sitting down at the small table, her food already waiting for her.

“Of course I do,” Mom answered, putting her egg on her plate. “Your graduation is tonight. I need to go in early to finish all my work so I don’t miss it.”

Amy couldn’t argue with that. Mom worked at an accounting firm as a secretary, a job she got shortly after Dad had died. While the pay wasn’t anything grand, it got them both on along fine. After all, they could afford the house.

“Then why do I have to get up early for a ceremony that’s going to happen tonight?” she asked.

Mom chuckled, sitting down opposite her. “You already know. They’re going to be announcing scholarships today. And you’re going to be picking which college you’re going to because of those scholarships. It’s an important ceremony for you.”

College. To be honest, Amy was looking forward to that. Mom was too. After her Granddad had died eight years before, he had left a fortune for each of his grandkids so that they could go to college. It was a surprise to everyone when he even willed a fortune to Amy.

Mom won’t have to worry about my expenses, Amy thought. And I get to have a better education.

It was all that she wanted.

“Why can’t they do this scholarship like in the old days?” Amy asked. “You know, when you’d have to send in your application months in advance, you get a letter of acceptance, you write a letter back saying yes…”

“Everything’s electronic, dear,” Mom pointed out. “And people like drama. People like to know what is happening now.”

Amy rolled her eyes. Seemed like a lot of hassle to her.

“Any idea which school will give you a scholarship?” Mom asked.

“Trade schools always gives away scholarships,” Amy said, biting into her toast. “And I’ve got high enough grades that I think that I could into the State school.”

“But you have higher ambitions,” Mom said shrewdly.

Amy didn’t say anything. Everyone had laughed at her when she applied for a Specialty school, a college that focused on one subject. Those were the best schools and most spots were reserved for those who were Talented in those subjects. But she had her hopes of going into the Chemistry Academy.

“Think I have a chance?” Amy asked softly.

Mom reached over and patted her hand. “Amy,” she said softly. “I think you do.”

Amy matched her Mom’s uneasy smile. A chance was better than nothing.
*********
“Amy!”

Amy glanced up, seeing her friend Sally Ballard skip towards her. Amy had just finished getting ready for the day and had walked out the door when Sally came bounding forward. Sally was a short, plump young woman with dark hair and a sunny disposition. It was hard to be gloomy with her around.

“Hi, Sally,” she said, wondering why her friend was always so cheerful. “Ready for today?”

“I sure hope so!” Sally laughed, grabbing her arm. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Together they walked to school. It wasn’t a long walk, just a half mile. They made sure to walk along the side of the road to avoid getting hit by the other kids driving to school. There was a sense of excitement in the air as the kids went to school. It meant the end of a school year for most and the seniors got to learn their fates.

“Hoping that you’ll get into the Research Tech?” Amy asked Sally.

“Of course,” Sally huffed. “Wouldn’t it be amazing to learn more? Discovering new medicines, how to make technology cheaper, and the Talented! There’s a new Talent discovered every ten years now! Maybe the scholars are right and that everyone has a Talent! Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

No. But Amy didn’t say that. She would much rather be unTalented. It wasn’t a world that she wanted to be part of.

“The Talented,” Sally said dreamily. “It would be amazing to be them.”

“Amazing?” Amy asked, frowning. “They dominate everything.”

“Exactly!” Sally pointed out. “If you’re a Talented, then you’re promised a life of ease and fortune!”

“Life isn’t just ease and fortune,” Amy started to say but Sally wasn’t listening.

“Think about it,” Sally kept saying. “A child is discovered to have a Talent at a young age and they’re guaranteed to become famous. The Talented Musicians have their music on the radios, Talented Engineers work on the coolest buildings, Talented Chemists create new medicines, and Talented Artists have their masterpieces in museums before they can talk! Would it be great?”

Amy shrugged.

Sally sighed dramatically. “Of course. You’re like most people. The Talented don’t interest you.”

“They’re far above us regular people,” Amy said blandly. “Just give me an honest job any day. I’ll get by on my own work and not on any magical powers.”

“They’re not magical powers,” Sally huffed.

Amy gave her friend a flat stare.

“Alright,” Sally conceded. “They’re magical.”

There was really no other way to describe it. How else could a five year old create a work of art that rivaled that of works of art hundred of years old? How else could a four year old understand the complex chemical formulas? How else could a child be so fast that none could catch them?

The Talented get everything, Amy thought, her heart sinking. All that is asked of them is that they give up everything else.

“Amy?”

Amy shook out of her thoughts. “What?” she asked.

Sally had a sour look on her face. “Look who’s driving up.”

There could be only one person who could give Sally a sour mood.

Emily Halcroft drove up in her fancy sports car. She was a beautiful senior with perfect long curly brown hair, perfect figure, perfect attire, perfectly rotten attitude.

And she was a Talented.

“Well, well, well,” Emily said, slowing her car to match their walking pace. “If it isn’t a couple unTalented walking to school.”

Amy kept her eyes forward. Emily enjoyed taunting her. Perhaps it was because Amy had managed to destroy one of her masterpieces when they were still in elementary and got away with it. Or that Amy managed to keep higher grades than her. Or that Emily simply enjoyed it. Whatever the reason, Amy often found herself, and those around her, under the pretty Talented bullying.

“I hear congrats are in order, Emily,” Sally said, trying to be her usual cheerful self. “You’re going to an art school.”

“Of course I’m going to an art school,” Emily laughed, a sound that grated on Amy’s ears. It sounded fake. All the time. “I’m a Talented Artist after all.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Amy thought. Now why don’t you Talent yourself away.

“And what of you two?” Emily asked. “Hoping to get into a Trade school? Or perhaps, if you’re lucky enough, to get into the State school?”

“A higher education is all we need,” Amy pointed out.

Emily laughed. “If you say so! Well, good luck, ladies.” Revving her engine, she drove off, laughing at them.

“I really don’t like that girl,” Sally muttered darkly.

“Being Talented has gone to her head,” Amy pointed out. “She’s the only one in our school district who’s Talented.”

“Known Talented,” Sally corrected. “Come on. Let’s pick the pace. I don’t want to be late.”
***********
The bleachers in the school gym were like others that she had come to know in life. Hard plastic seats with no back support and way too crowded. She, Sally, and Sally’s current boyfriend Jeff, had to squeeze close together to make room for more seniors.

You’d think that they designed these bleachers to punish students, Amy thought, flinching as someone kneed her back again.

It took a while for everyone to gather for the all day assembly. Even the lower classmen joined in. Everyone wanted to know where the seniors were going. It was all pomp, done just for the drama. Amy couldn’t understand why anyone thought this was a good idea.

While waiting, Amy studied those who sat down in the gym, comfortable in their folding chairs and enjoying light conversations. There were the teachers, the student council, and, of course, Emily. The Talented held herself aloof of the others, sitting primly on her chair and basking in the adoring stares of her classmen. Amy just rolled her eyes. Emily took things too far at times.

At last, the freshmen sat and the principle stepped up to the podium. “Welcome!” he said, grinning. “We’re here to congratulate another year of graduates who are moving on to bigger and better things!”

Amy half-heartedly clapped as others cheered.

“We’ll go with tradition by handing out scholarships,” the principle announced. Then the procession started. Going by schools, he announced who got scholarships, asking the students to stand as their names were called. As Amy knew, she got scholarships in the local Trade schools and the State university. There was the polite applause after the principle finished a school.

“And now,” he said, pulling out four nice looking envelopes. Amy sat up a bit. Those were the scholarships for the Specialty schools. “For those who will be going to the biggest and best things.” He opened the first letter.

“Four Specialty scholarships?” Sally whispered to her. “Emily is one… Who are the other three?”

Amy shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Emily Halcroft!” the principle announced loudly. “Our Talented Artist! She’s going to the Art Institute in Arco City!”

Emily stood and bowed, blowing out a few kisses to the crowd. Amy rolled her eyes. That girl loved attention.

The principle opened the second letter. “Harry Belnap!” Their student body president stood up, grinning. “He’s going to the Astrology College in Fairfax!” Harry beamed with pride as the student body applauded for him.

The third letter. “Spencer Trentson, come down to sit with us,” the principle announced. “You’re going to the Marine Campus in Georgetown!”

Spencer practically jumped down out of the bleachers as he hurried for one of the two empty seats reserved for him. He was grinning like an idiot as everyone cheered for him. It was really no surprise that he got into a Specialty school. He was almost Talented in Biology.

Fourth letter, Amy thought, holding her breath as the principle opened the letter. I hope…

“Amy McPeir!” the principle said. “You may also come down. You’ve been accepted to the Chemistry Academy!”

The force of the cheer around her stunned her. She turned to Sally, too shocked to even speak.

“Go on!” Sally said, giving her a hug. “You’ve got it!”

Amy grinned as she made her way to the last chair with the others. She had done it. She had got into the Chemistry Academy!

Now this assembly didn’t seem too bad at all.
**********
Amy couldn’t believe it. She stood before a mirror, still in awe at the robe she wore. It wasn’t going to be the one that she had rented before, of the same style that everyone else was going to wear. No, instead of the red drab robe of the school’s color, she was wearing a blue and green robe, signifying that she was going to a Specialty school. The Chemistry Academy’s colors.

She couldn’t stop grinning.

Her Mom had come early to the ceremony and stood behind her.

“Oh, Amy,” she said, wiping the tears away from her eyes with a tissue. “Congratulations, dear.” In a soft whisper, she went on. “Your father would be proud.”

Amy didn’t say anything, feeling tears come to her own eyes. She took a good look at herself in the mirror. She was like any other lanky eighteen year old, skinny with no real curves, flat blond hair, and bright blue eyes. Mom always said that she looked a lot like Dad.

He never wanted to be a Racer, Amy thought. He wanted to marry his girlfriend that he got pregnant. He wanted to go to a trade school and grow old and happy with his family.

But he couldn’t. Dad died in the Race Circuit fourteen years before.

He’d be glad to know that his daughter isn’t going into the Race Circuit.

“Thanks, Mom,” she whispered back, rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hand. “I wish he were here.”

“I know,” Mom said softly, hugging her tight. “I know.”

“Excuse me.”

They both turned as one of the teachers popped her head through the open door. “Ms. McPeir, you need to go take your seat. The ceremony will start soon.”

“Good luck,” Mom said, kissing her on the cheek. Amy could only grin as her Mom left. Good luck? For a graduation ceremony? She already had it.

It was a blur to her as the ceremony started. Unexpectedly, she sat up with the rest of the student council, the valedictorians, and the three other Specialties. She didn’t even get to sit by Emily and endure her through the graduation. A plus in her book.

Thankfully, all she had to do was sit there and listen as others talked. And when the diplomas were handed out, she got a loud cheer as she received hers. It was a great day and she could barely remember it.

After it was all over, Mom found her with Sally, and hugged them both tight. “Congratulations, girls,” she said, smiling.

“Thank you Ms. McPeir,” Sally laughed. “Can you believe it? We both got into the schools that we wanted.”

“We’ll still be in the same city too!” Amy grinned. “The Research Tech and the Chemistry Academy are in Arco City.”

“Well,” Sally said, rolling her eyes, “Arco City is one of the largest cities in the world. It’s not that big of a surprise.”

“And it’s only a couple hours away,” Mom pointed out.

“Maybe we should look into getting the same apartment and being roommates!” Sally suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Amy agreed.

“Well, you won’t be planning tonight,” Mom said. “Will you be coming home or going to the All-Nighter?”

“All-Nighter!” they both answered.

Mom laughed. “Alright. I’ll see you in the morning, dear.” She kissed her on the cheek and left.

“Come on,” Sally said, pulling her away. “We’ve got to change before going to the party!”
***********
And there we have it! Amy seems to have everything going for her. Next post, I’m going to destroy that. But, hey, that’s what authors do.

I hope you enjoy this new novel. It’ll hopefully be the start of a new series (at least, that’s what I’ve planned).

Thanks for reading and enjoy the journey!

NaNoWriMo 2013

*CLICK*

Flash, sputter, tape reeling, the picture finally comes into focus. A simple set fills the screen, an empty view with only a back brick wall and a wood floor.

But then he walks in. He holds himself proudly, though not with arrogance. His dark brown hair is cut short and his hazel eyes seemed defiant. His clothing is a bit strange, a sharp blue suit trimmed with silver and a red sash across his chest. There are no medals pinned to his coat, an oddity if anyone knew him well enough. After all, according to his people, he’s a hero.

“Hello!” he says, waving at those watching the screen. “The name’s Martin Santer. Perhaps you’ve read about me. Or maybe you’ve read the three books about me. If not, well, I suggest you go to the beginning of this blog and start there.

“However,” he goes on, standing at military attention. “I’m not here to promote myself. My story is done.”

“IT’S NOT DONE YET!”

Martin rolls his eyes at the sound of the voice off screen. “That’s Kelley,” he tells the audience. “She’s my author. While she has finished my main story, that doesn’t mean that she’s done with me. I can’t blame her though. I have been part of her life for a while now. And she’s going to be editing my story in hopes of finding a publication contract for me.”

“Martin! Hurry up!”

Martin glances off to his left, to someone just off screen. “I’m getting there,” he promises. He turns back to the screen, smiling. “But I’m on a break now and Kelley really needs to stretch her writing abilities. It’s once again time for NaNoWriMo, a literary challenge to write 50,000 words in November. And this time, she’s not writing about me.”

“About time,” the person off screen mutters.

Martin chuckles. “Without further ado, let me introduce to you who’s going to be taking my place this November.” He holds his hand out to his left, grinning impishly. “Amy McPeir!”

A young woman walks up to Martin. She’s also dressed funny, in what looks like a jumpsuit with black pants, a red v-ed belt, purple top, and strange grey armbands down her arms. Unlike Martin, she stomps into view, her head held high but with an annoyed look on her face. Her blond hair is caught up in a sever ponytail and her blue eyes sparkles with mistrust.

“Thank you for the long explanation on yourself,” Amy sneers at him. Martin’s only response is another grin.

“Care to explain yourself?” he asks her. He seems very amused.

Amy rolls her eyes. “Why not?” She turns to the audience, attempting to smile without her annoyance but fails. “As my coworker has just said, I’m Amy McPeir. I’m also known as Aims in the upcoming novel Kelley will be writing, called Racer.

“What’s a Racer, you may ask.” Amy then stands taller, trying to copy Martin’s easy confidence but failing to do so. “A Racer is a Talented, a Talented being a person with an ability to do something magically great. My Talent is Speed.”

“Care to demonstrate?” Martin asks.

Amy glares at him. “No,” she mutters. “Not really. I don’t like my Talent. The only thing I can do with it is join the Race Circuit. And that’s something I really oppose to.”

“Then,” Martin says, not the least bit affected by her rotten attitude. “How about telling us a bit about your story?”

“It’s simple really,” Amy brushes off. “Kelley describes it this way. Take this:

“Mix it in with this:

“Plus this:”

Martin stands thoughtfully. “So basically,” he figures, “it’s Tron mixed with Hunger Games, plus college.” He shakes his head. “And I thought my life was rough. Oh, and what about this?”

“There is no love/hate relationship in my book,” Amy snaps.

Martin grins. “You forget. I know Kelley better than you. There’s going to be one. What’s his name again… Jordan…?”

“It’s Jason,” she grumbles. “He likes going by Jay.”

“Ha!” Martin laughs, pointing at her triumphantly. “I knew it!”

“You’re a jerk!” Amy yells at him.

Martin laughs again. “My own wife calls me a stupid idiot prince. Calling me a jerk isn’t going to faze me.”

“When did you get married?” Amy demands to know. “Your book left off with you just getting engaged!”

“Kelley has my entire life planned,” Martin points out. “I even know how I’m going to die. You? You’ve only been in her head for a couple of years now. She doesn’t even know how your book is going to end yet.”

Amy looks horrified at him. “You know how you’re going to die?” she asks, stunned.

He shrugs. “Peacefully in bed, surrounded by my children and grandkids. I’m quite old at that point and a widower. Everyone will be surprised that I hadn’t passed on years before.”

“That’s disgusting,” Amy spits.

“It’s our lot in life as characters,” Martin yawns. “I’ve seen a bit into your story and you’re in for some unpleasant surprises yourself.”

“Why doesn’t Kelley tell me these things?” Amy asks.

“Because you’re too new,” Martin tells her. “She hasn’t flushed everything about you out yet. Don’t worry, once she’s figured you out completely, you’re going to know things about yourself that even you didn’t know.”

“Honestly?”

Martin nods solemnly. “And don’t get too frustrated with her when she switches her attention to someone else. In the last twelve years I’ve known her, I’ve had to wait several time for her to turn her attention back to me. She’s written a bit on you, on Rynna from the Dawmeria Soul, Ben from her newest novel A Hero’s Wish, Meg from Fiction Riders, even on The Runaways. Each time I had to wait for her to come back. It was only once my story was finished that I learned the rest of my life.”

“Do you think she’ll quit on me this NaNo?” Amy asks, showing a bit of concern.

Martin shrugs again. “Who knows? She couldn’t get into Dawmeria in April. That’s why A Hero’s Wish was finished.

“But she’ll get there,” Martin promises. “Eventually.”

“You’re not the greatest at giving comfort,” Amy accuses, “are you?”

“Street urchin turned spy turned prince,” he musses. “No. I’m not.”

“I think our lives are equally tough,” Amy concludes.

“Kelley doesn’t make character lives easy,” Martin agrees.

“How am I going to survive this?” she wails.

“One word at a time,” Martin advices her. “Always one word at a time. There will be some pleasant moments and she’s not going to let you go through this alone. She’ll be right there, fingers on the keyboard and adding characters to help you through.”

“You think I’ll survive this?” Amy asks seriously.

“I survived,” Martin says with a shrug. “And I’m happy now. Trust me; Kelley does not like unhappy endings.”

“I guess that’s something…” Amy falls silent, looking worried.

“I’m passing the torch,” Martin suddenly says, surprising her. “My story is, for simplicity sake, done. Oh, Kelley has to do some editing and she’ll write more adventure for me. But I’m complete. She needs someone new.”

Amy frowns at the man, her expression no longer annoyed but rather thoughtful. “Think I can do it?”

Martin smiles. “You’re a character of M. Kelley, Amy McPeir. You can do anything.”

Amy glances off screen, lips tight as she considered what was ahead for her. “I’ll beat you in popularity,” she finally says, thrusting the challenge at Martin.

Martin snorts a laugh. “I’d like to see you try!”

“It’s on!” Amy runs off screen, heading straight for her own adventure. Martin merely shakes his head, a small smile on his lips.

“Good luck, Amy McPeir,” he says. “Enjoy your journey.”

The screen becomes static once again.

*CLICK*