ALT Pitch: When the chosen Empress is assassinated, her disabled and gutsy ex-girlfriend must triumph over a dysfunctional family of ancient gods or submit to fulfilling the chosen’s grim fate as the gods’ eternal slave and weapon against mortals. 94,000 words Crossover Fantasy Comps: T. Kingfisher’s Nettle & Bone Damsel (2024 film) Hannah Kaner’s Godkiller Margaret Owen’s Little Thieves

ALT Themes & Tropes: - Forbidden Love - Hot Banter - Feminine Rage - Anti-Chosen - Found Family - Second Chances - Dark Humor - Identity - Friends-to-lovers - Faustian Bargain - Choosing vs. being chosen - Dual-Timeline Representation: - LGBTQIA - BIPOC - Mental Health - Disability - Neurodivergence - Chronic Illnes

ALT Moodboard: Dark fantasy Victorian vibes with purple color composition. Top row, left-to-right: a Byronic handsome man in black, a palace, a dark figure burning in hellfire, a masked female assassin of dark complexion holding a dagger, a serpentine forest trail at night marked with red flowers. At the center, next to a silver plume, is the text: “This world, my dear, is the slaughterhouse of noble ideals.” Bottom row, left-to-right: a dark gaslit street, a gaslit city blanketed in coal smog at night, a young woman in a Victorian gown, wrought-iron gates opened to a foreboding foggy estate in the dark, a trail of red petals leading to a dark stone temple gate.

ALT Excerpt: A gaunt mouse snatched bread crumbs from my lunch tray. I did not have the heart to give her a name, afraid I might lose her, too. The lingering scent of mud and mildew hung in the air, a long-forgotten tomb. The bed’s cast-iron rods dug into my ribs through the thin mattress. I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering and pulled the threadbare blanket tighter around my body, hugging my knees to my chest. It did little against the chill creeping into my bones. The raging blizzard had transformed the courtyard into a churning white sea, rattling the broken window shutters hanging askew. I was not allowed visitors or to set foot outside. The faded floral pattern of the peeling wallpaper was my only reminder of life beyond these walls. The medications I was forced to swallow left a cotton taste in my mouth and a dull ache in my skull. At least no screams echoed through the halls today.