Query for The Footbridge

Suicide. Sally thinks its the only escape from her abusive alcoholic mom, neighborhood bullies, and even the teachers at school. The only reason she's still alive is Kelly, the beautiful boy next door. But even he isn't her friend anymore.

Karolee, Sally's Mom, has hit rock bottom. Her pursuit of employment ends tomorrow after her interview with the escort service, whether they hire her or not.

Kelly walked out on his girlfriend's proposition. He couldn't love her while he was in love with someone else.

The perfect crime has no loose ends, no one knows it happened, and no one really cares.*

Disaster strikes when unknown magic thrusts Sally through time and she arrives at school with Kelly in 1995 – the year before she was born. Sally's desire to end her own life becomes a frighteningly real possibility. She triggers a chain of events that lands her pregnant teenage mother in a dark basement, tied to a chair, with aborticide pulsing through her veins.

With little to go on Sally and Kelly frantically search for Karolee. Against the odds they discover Karolee's location, but the secrets she holds are far too valuable. Someone wants her dead, and is willing to kill anyone who interferes.

Their only hope to ever live normal lives is to solve the mysteries no one knew existed, uncover years of hidden secrets, and somehow survive it all.

The foot bridge is a 99,000 word single-title YA romance with a healthy dose of mystery and a light sprinkle of magic.

Comming Soon, The Foot bridge

I'm Alex. I just read what Sally wrote about me. I can't believe it. well actually I can. Just like a girl to rag on a guy. I'm seriously about the only guy at school who will talk to her and she treats me that way???
Well I guess I can't get too mad after what happened. And I'm dating someone else now anyway. I would like to put it on the record that I was the one who bashed what's his face over the head with a Biology book right before he attacked Sally. And I was the one who found the Tryptopolynosis. so you gotta give me some credit.

Coming soon, The Foot bridge

Hi folks. My name is Sally Mason. I'm 17 years old, and a third generation resident of Cashmont Valley. Mr. Chapman has been kind enough to tell my story.
You see, I was haveing trouble. not just your typical bad grades and no friends. I've had way worse. Like one day I was trying to paint a landscape scene in a ravine near my house when Jack and Harv came and shot me with paint balls and ruined the painting. I was so mad.
My mom was an alcoholic too and she almost killed me in a drunken rage.
Every girl wants to go to a school dance now and then, but not with guys like Alex. I'll give you one guess who asked me.
Then I realized Kelly didn't even care about me. That was the worst part. I mean we were friends all through elementary school, he lives next door, and we always did stuff together. So when I realized he really doesn't care about me, I almost killed myself. I mean locked in my room, knife in hand, almost killed myself. Pretty pathetic huh?

Probably the biggest turning point in my life was when I got to school before I was born. A lot happened, but you really need to read it to believe it.
I don't want to give too much away, because my story is really interesting. Mr. Chapman is just putting the finishing touches on it and will be looking for a publisher very soon. He also would like some alpha and beta readers. you can contact him at: jpchapboy at hotmail dot com.

The First Awakening

The First Awakening
By Joshua Chapman
The man's eyes fluttered open. What a horrible nightmare. No it wasn't a nightmare. It was real. It had happened. That's why he was here. And just like the prophesies had foretold. But they never did understand them. How long had he been lying here? He pulled the sheet from his face. Someone had laid him here.
He felt his body fill with power as he swung his feet to the floor. So this is what it feels like! He could feel the unfathomable power in his body. He felt the changes in his body, unimaginable changes, as if he had never really been alive before. This was what it really meant to live. And this time no one could ever kill him... again.
The man stood with strength carefully folding the linens, with such a powerful body why expect someone else to do even such a menial task? He carefully and neatly laid the linens in a corner of the bed then faced the doorway. His friends appeared opening the door. They had always looked up to him, but before it was for who he would become, now, their respect shone brightly for who he was. He left the stuffy room and stepped into the dawning spring sunlight. He nodded to his friends and thanked them. They bowed to him.
The landscape about him was well cared for. He paused as he noticed a small crocus just beginning to bloom. It was really beautiful. He slowly wandered throughout the garden and around the bend taking in the beauties of the Earth. He had always had an affinity for the wonders of nature, now he knew why, exactly why.
There was some commotion around the bend by the room he had just left, but he didn't feel the need to investigate it. He had spent his life dealing with problems, other peoples problems, but that was over now. He had finally dealt with it once and for all. He bent down and gently stroked a tulip bloom. Then he heard it. The weeping of a woman.
He gracefully walked toward the sound of the weeping. He knew that voice. Around the bend he saw her. His dear beloved friend. Why was he drawn to her? That was simple. He loved her. She had believed in him. And that, albeit small, belief she had had made it that much easier to do what he had done. He wanted desperately to take her in his arms and embrace her, but that would have to wait. But he did need to speak to her. Would she recognize him? He was different now.
He gently approached her. Elsewhere in the world people were in pain. People were arguing and fighting. Others lay near death in the most deplorable of circumstances. He could attend to them, later. Right now he did not feel the need to move quickly. Here in the garden there was a deep abiding peace, almost as if it emanated directly from the man. Maybe that is what caused the woman to look up.
She didn't recognize him. Those deep eyes were filled with sadness. Maybe it was the cloudiness of tears that made her not recognize him, or perhaps that she was certain he was dead. It may have been the overwhelming difference in his own body. When he had been laid in the room he was frail and dehydrated, the lowest of all. How could she recognize him. Now he was a God.
She asked if he had taken a body from the room. She wanted to finish preparing it for a proper burial. The man almost laughed to himself. No one had really understood his words just days before.
The man spoke. “Mary”

Happy Easter. Let's remember what it is all about.