Hello Everyone,
I used family and friends for my initial beta readers and have fallen flat on my first round of queries. Got some personalised feedback from one agent and have revised based on that. Hoping for 2-3 beta readers to give some feedback. Happy to swap manuscripts :)
Content: Violence, Language, Religious Subversion (Christianity)
The Apocalypse was ordered, and God left to create something new. Infighting amongst the Archangels left most of them dead and only half the job done. With most of the angels left stranded on Earth and no way for the humans to remove or kill them, a group of people harnessed the power of Archangel Raphael and began stripping the angels of their divinity. Leaving them as lifeless ‘husks’, wandering the Earth as harmless zombielike creatures.
Hundreds of years later, Mitch wakes up in a shattered world with a broken nose and no memory, again. A penance he must pay for removing his wings so that he can hide in the human world. His only friend and anchor is Saent, the only husk to have somehow kept their mind after being subjected to a Raphaelite Forge (the machines they use to strip the angels of their divinity). After being caught up in the explosion of a new Raphaelite weapon, Mitch and Saent are the only survivors. A strange hum draws Mitch to the centre of the blast, where he finds an oddly familiar divine ceremonial sword, that had been used to power the weapon. Already doing their best just to survive, the pair now find themselves pursued by the Raphaelites. Traversing a world where the surviving angels are hated and live deeply segregated lives, the pair know they must keep the sword out of Raphaelites’ hands. Mitch also needs to know why the sword is familiar. Knowing his mind resets all the time, something familiar scares him. But learning more about the sword might cost them more than they are willing to pay.
First 400 Words:
A figure stirred beneath a layer of ashen dust. His face cracked as the sediment broke with every movement. Squinting, he turned his head with a groan. Unrelenting sunlight struck his face through shattered windows, and right now he was unwilling to move out of its way. All he could process was pain. Muscles spasmed as his thoughts skimmed over his limbs, assessing their state. After a moment of forcing his eyes shut, he started to rise from the floor. There was a hum in the air. It called to him; a destination he had to reach; even if his body wasn't ready to achieve it. Shifting his weight in a stuttered motion, he managed a seated position, shedding the dust as he moved, allowing it to dance in the sunlight. The particles ebbed in the shards of light for a second before he buried his face in his hands as if cradling live explosives.
“F**k.”
The word hung in the air as his body tensed on the outward breath. The rancid, moistureless gasp scattered the floating dust as if it was scared to occupy the same space. He sat for a moment, smacking his lips to break up the coarse dry spittle that was welding his mouth together. A black coat, detailed with intricate red hemming, draped itself across his shoulders. It did its best to fit. Tailored for someone else and acquired by its current wearer. A nearby explosion shook the room to life. The top layer of dust leapt into the air with the shudder. He dragged himself from the floor with a burst of energy. “God help me.” The man stiffened, muscles and joints locking like iron rods as his body rebelled against the movement.
He landed face-first with a dull thud, a hollow groan vibrating against the concrete floor. His face slid across the ground as the rest of his body followed, disturbing the dust with a trail of sweat, blood, and drool. There he lay, motionless, taking in a breath as he stared at the ceiling. Clutching his chest, he rolled over. An ear-piercing metallic screech filled the room. The door burst open, smacking him in the face. “F**k my life!” It broke his nose with a crunch, slicing through the skin, leaving a gaping wound that dripped thick, warm blood across his face.