ARRRGH!

Not getting ANY interest from Agents from my query letter. Any hints to help me improve it or should I just break down and rewrite the 1st chapter of my book?Query:I’ve been a fan of Sci-Fi and fantasy since before I could even read. For a young African American that meant watching and reading stories that didn’t include people who looked like me or who were from where I was from. Then as I got older it seemed as though the opposite began to happen with OVERLY Afro centric characters and settings. But these stories felt even more alien to me than those with the incredibly monochromatic heroes and places that I had already been accustomed to reading.So I when I got tired of just reading I started writing and eventually, after college (HU!), a bit of Air Force, and a long ugly stint in retail, I wrote THE SERPENT CULT, an Urban Fantasy story set in a fictional modern day East coast city. If you like action, suspense and mystery then you’re going to love visiting Mountairy Rock.As a matter of fact there’s so much action… maybe I should add “Action” to the description…Yea… it’s an Action Urban Fantasy that takes place in Mountairy Rock; an old city within a modern city where goliath trees dwarf the skyscrapers, hidden packs of werewolves roam the rooftops, modern day witches practice in secret… and a leviathan of a Demon secretly builds it’s own army of crazed worshipers. So there’s actually quite a bit of the occult mixed in too.I guess that makes it an Action Urban Occult Fantasy novel.Anyway, life had finally started to come together for Max Madigan. This was going to be the year that would see him finally get his Doctorate, start his career and hopefully kick his long dormant love life back into gear.But just as the New Year starts there’s a grisly massacre at Haley University Museum, where Max works as a researcher. Several employees were murdered when black leather clad cultists broke into the building apparently in a frantic search for some unknown item. As a Senior Researcher, Max was asked by the police to help them sort through the ransacked Museum in order to discover what the maniacs had been after. Max unknowingly stumbles across the StoneAt first glance the small engraved stone seemed to be nothing more than a bit of debris from the violence of the attack. So insignificant that he doesn’t notice that it pulses warmly with mystical power. Now, much to his distress, the path that his life had been traveling down has been irrevocably changed.Indeed everything seems different. Even his native city suddenly becomes very foreign to him. The Detective in charge of investigating the murders suspects Max of being involved. The cult responsible for the murders now knows that he is in possession of the Stone and begins launching attacks at him. Their members are crazed, maniacal and in some cases; serpent eyed and fang toothed.Fortunately the mysterious and powerful Stone seems to be tune with his peril and begins to fill him with its power granting him the incredible strength, speed, and heightened senses of a feral animal. It is a mystical power and it is just enough to keep Max half a step ahead of the cult and just out of arms reach of being cuffed and imprisoned by the law. But there are others who can sense and want the power that emanates from the Stone.Prya, a flame haired vixen from the isolated Downhills section of Mountairy Rock, has taken a keen interest in both the Stone and Max himself. That interest isn’t looked upon by lightly by her self proclaimed fiancé, Lotarre who, along with his brothers begin a relentless pursuit of Max all over Mountairy Rock.Beset on all sides by danger and a mounting foray of enemies, Max’s luck turns and he is given aid by a modern day witch, Rasheeda Landry. Rasheeda serves as a guide to the side of Mountairy Rock that he’s never seen. She warns him of the dangers of Mountairy Rock, of the wickedness of the Serpent Cult……and she warns him of the Demon.Though it’s the members of the Cult that will fight, kill, and die if necessary in their worship, Max must eventually deal with the Demon that is intent on possessing the Stone. After wave after wave of crazed maniacs and wicked serpent-men fail to capture it, the stage is set for the ultimate face-off between the Demon and an exhausted, beaten and spent Max in the back alleys of Mountairy Rock.So that’s my pitch. I’m looking for a bit of guidance and help navigating my publishing options. As I’ve said I’ve never been published but I have posted work to few web sites and have received very positive feedback. I also wrote a short story, Race War that will be featured in; Future Passage: The Black Science Fiction Society Anthology.The SERPENT CULT is complete and runs 144,000 words. It’s not the first book I’ve finished but it’s the first one I’m trying to get published and I’m hoping to make a SERIES out of it.…hence the word “chronicles” in the title…I know, I know; "Chronicles" has been SO run into the ground! But I had this title in my head long before everybody else jumped on the bandwagon and I'm gonna use it! I'm currently working on the second novel: The Mountairy Rock Chronicles: BLOOD CITY where Max battles both warring street gangs and a deranged serial killer. The third book will be based on a short story I wrote featuring Max called: The Ghost of P181. In Ghost a powerless Max must protect the woman he loves from an Urban Zombie in the basement of an abandoned project.…maybe Max is a superhero. Doesn’t that make it a Superhero Action Urban Occult Fantasy novel?…probably a bit redundant…THE MOUNTAIRY ROCK CITY CHRONICLES:THE SERPENT CULTPROLOGUE: SITE TWOWet soil sprayed a good ten feet when he landed. Barely… just barely… he managed to make it across the water and onto the other bank. Before he was even sure of his footing he turned, twisted and looked back across the narrow river into the dark shadows of the jungle on the other side. The bright full moon could not penetrate the dense canopy.Where were they?He sat there, down on one knee, as still and quiet as he could be. His lungs ached as he held his breath and strained his ears. Over the pounding of his heartbeat and the sound of the slow moving water he could hear nothing else.Had he lost them?Then came a bird’s angry warning cry. Just on the other side of the water but farther up the bank it, whatever bird it was, warbled twice; its nest was threatened.They were coming.He leapt up and ran on, delving into the dense jungle on his side of the river. Quickly he found an animal trail and followed it. It would be easier to run, easier to make good distance,…and easier for them to follow.Far too soon though he heard splashing behind him and knew they had reached the river. So he pumped his legs even harder, staying on the animal trail less the underbrush trip him.The moon seemed to run along side him, whenever it peaked through the trees. Though it was a clear night the heat and humidity made the air thick and heavy. It had rained earlier but that had done nothing to cool off the valley. Sweat poured out of his skin and soaked his clothes. That made running even harder but he pressed on.Another animal cried out. The call was one he did not recognize. Never the less whatever the beast was it was far off to his right now and behind him.He came to a stop. His pursuers had over shot him, perhaps thinking that he had followed the river. Again he held his breath and tried to listen past the blood beating in his ears.Another bird cry sounded this one even farther away. Slowly he let the breath go… exhaled and inhaled. He had lost them. They would follow the river all the way to the falls before they realized it. Only then would they would head back far too late to catch him.He cupped his hand over his wrist and pressed down on his watch face until it lit up with a faint indigo glow. It was almost four in the morning. They might reach the falls in fifteen minutes… turn back almost immediately… get back to base camp in an hour… search it for… ten minutes at the most before finding the invoices…After a second of calculation he figured that they could get to the airfield before six a.m. if it did not rain again. That meant they could stop the shipment.Quickly he looked about and found a thin, low hanging branch. Gripping it firmly he closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath,then snapped it.Almost at once he heard the rallying cry followed by the warning cries of half a dozen different animals. They were getting sloppy now, and desperate. He could almost hear them crashing through the jungle. Maybe, if he was lucky, one of them would come across something dangerous… poisonous hopefully.Not that it would stop them. They were too determined… too close to let something so pedestrian stop them now.He turned on his heel and took off again. They would catch him he knew, but not for a good while longer.The path he was on had taken him uphill a bit until the foliage fell away. The dense jungle gave way to a small rocky outcropping that lead further down into the valley which lay spread out before him. The moonlight painted the tops of the trees with pale blue light for as far as he could see. The distant horizon was faint but he swore he could see the glow of the coming dawn. He heard a snarl and turned and looked back into the jungle behind him.It could not be them… it was too soon…it was…Without another thought he spun and leapt from the outcropping and down to the hard soil leading into the valley. His fears were confirmed by the sound of something crashing through the shrubbery behind him, hard steps on the rock of the ridge;… several somethings.They had split up he realized and almost cursed aloud his frustration. A couple of the smart bastards had followed the animal trail he had taken. Then they kept quiet when he let their friends know where he was until they could get right on top of them.Without time to search out and find another path he simply plunged forward into the jungle trying to stay near the big trees where the undergrowth was minimal.But he was slower now and they had much larger strides. The jungle here was still dense and he could see only a few meters about him in any direction. The crashing thumping, stomping footsteps of his pursuers were behind him and on both sides just beyond the dark leaves, tree trunks and crisscrossing vines. Now that they had him they snarled, clicked, and trilled their triumph.No longer trying to keep silent he took in deep breaths and let them out in hard rasping howls. Branches and vines whipped at his face, knurled roots and rocks tripped his feet. He thundered on.But then he heard the flapping of a great bird’s wings and the dark screen of jungle ahead of him shook and swayed.He skid to a stop and looked about. They had him surrounded. Clicks, snarls, growls, hissing, and trills sounded all about him. They were smarter this time; they were going to attack together. They would not give him the chance to escape again.He checked his watch again.It was just past Four now. He had to hold out; keep them from finding out he had tricked them for as long as he could.They stomped closer, together, from each side.He pulled the dagger from his belt and swore a silent vow to himself as they breached the dark foliage with their bright shining eyes. He would not fail. He would not fall.Not until the dawn arrived and the plane took the shipment all the way to America and out of their reach forever.Chapter one:NEW YEARS IN MOUNTAIRY ROCK"Happy NEW YEAR!!!" The raucous refrain was followed by the distant sound of firecrackers and the loud, off key, singing of the traditional New Years song over the car radio. Maximillion Madigan listened woefully as he drove on having been forced to leave the festivities at King square. That was because of a sudden and mysterious call from the Director and head curator of Haley Museum, Dr. Odom King. It was a call that ordered him to go immediately to the Museum that night.“Damn!” He muttered to the empty passenger seat. His date for the evening had “declined” to accompany him to the Museum. Not that he blamed her; the party at King square was going to be the best one Mountairy Rock city had ever seen. When he left it had been so crowded that he could not even see the huge stage set in front of City hall through the throngs of people standing shoulder to shoulder on New City Ave. Although that should not have mattered; with all the parties and other celebrations going on in center city, there was plenty to see and do. The huge snowdrifts lining the side streets from the past storm only packed the crowds tighter, but did nothing to stop them from growing. There were exhibitions, vendors selling just about anything, music coming from several open doors along the avenue, pop stars performing live, and women running around baring their chests for beads in this crazy weather.It was New Years’ Eve in Mountairy Rock City and every year it got better and better, crazier and crazier. The city had a strong and well represented culturally diversity. That meant that tonight there was nowhere you could go in Mountairy Rock and not find a grand celebration going on… except for the Museum that is. For the past three years Dr. King had ordered the Museum closed during New Years’, usually for inventory. Several key parties that had been held there had been forced to move, not without a little resentment, to other parts of the school or the city. Especially the huge Mountairy Rock countdown party which was both New Years celebration and the City’s founding day celebration.That was the real reason for the blow out. Mountairy Rock was an old city, officially two hundred and ninety-five years old, and as the city got closer to its official tri-centennial the huge end of year party had been getting bigger every year. Now that party was being held in King square, on the other side of the city and far out of site in Max's rear view mirror. Or rather it had been held in King Square; Max had already heard the count down and fireworks.So that meant that he was going to get there a little late this year if at all. Hopefully, he could return to his date before she found another escort.His cell had gone off about fifteen before midnight, and like a complete idiot, he answered even though he knew it was his boss and mentor, Dr. King. The only reason King would have to call him in the middle of New Years’ Eve would have to be something of such importance that it would definitely bring his evening to an end. It turned out that someone had broken into the Museum and the Doctor wanted Max to be there, as he himself could not arrive for some time.Probably at the party he was hosting, having a ball! He thought. King was the curator of Haley museum, one of the largest museums in America. He was also a Professor and a Dean at Mountairy Rock University, where Max was doing his graduate studies in...“DAMN!” The young man cursed his luck. Even with it being the holidays there was always a good number of staff and security at the museum, so much so that he should not have been called no matter what the emergency was. Unfortunately because many of his superiors had gone to a research project taking place in Africa recently, Max was made Dr. King’s new top aid. If something had happened in the labs or offices where they had been working then it was important that someone who was familiar with what was going on to be there.Dammit! He had only been trying to talk with Rosette for a month and when she finally agrees to go out with him this happens. Hell, he had rented a Benz.The police were already there when he pulled up and Max saw half a dozen squad cars parked outside among the huge piles of plowed snow as well as a few ambulances. The usual over kill response the Museum usually got for alarms and such. Money demands attention and the Museum and the University were the two biggest moneymakers the city had in the past century.The lot was so filled that Max had to park the rental a good distance away from the museum. All six feet three inches of him stepped out of the car. The long black over coat blew impressively as he walked down the row of police cars and snow banks. It was his good one, and also his only one as was the suit beneath it. His good hat had been lost so he complimented his wardrobe with a black baseball cap, the number 76 emblazed in white on it. It was as sharp a look as he could manage and he was going to be wasting it on cops and a stupid break-in. With any luck he would be able to get out of there soon, find Rosette and somehow salvage the night.There were only two officers just outside the big double doors of the Museum’s barbican; the huge medieval guardhouse, but he knew there would be more in the Museum itself. Careful of ice he ran up the steps, noticing that one of the policemen was bent over."Excuse me? I'm Max Madigan. Dr. King sent me over to see what happened." The officer who was bent over stood up and wiped his mouth, the mess on the ground was apparent. Max almost smiled. It looked like these cops took to the New Year’s festivities early, and hard."Go ahead inside.” said his partner, who did not even bother to look in Max's direction. “They're expecting you."Carefully he stepped past the officers, through the barbican, and across the causeway that sat over the empty basin of the moat. Why the cop couldn’t stop here to gag, instead of inside the barbican, Max did not know.This was Haley Museum’s main visitor entrance, still very much the old world castle for tourists. The moat was usually full and fed by an under ground waterway originating from and flowing back out to Cobbs river but in winter it was blocked off and kept empty. From the front of the Museum, which sat on Germantown Avenue, this was the only way to gain entrance. Students, Professors and employees entered through the “Dock” along the side. The fact that the police and Ambulance vehicles were sitting out in front must have meant that whatever had happened, must have happened either in the Gatehouse, maybe in the Outer Bailey beyond or worse, in the Main building of the Museum itself.In that case it could have been something that happened in the South tower where Dr. King’s offices and labs were, and where Max worked.As he passed through the Gatehouse door he spotted the broken glass on the floor. The glass front door that was cut out of the larger drawbridge, which had not been lowered since before the town was founded, had been broken open. Cold winter air blew into the Gatehouse behind him when he entered but that did not stop a strong acrid smell from making him wince as he took it in. What was it?It was almost as cold inside here as it was outside. The Museum was always a cold drafty place anyway and the heating system never seemed to be able to compensate, but now it was so cold he could see his breath. There was another officer just inside the vestibule standing there apparently waiting for the ill officer. The look on this officer’s face made Max feel an even greater chill."What happened?" He could already see that the Gatehouse was in shambles. “You guys had your New Year’s party here again?” He was joking, but the police man’s face only grew tauter."Thought it was just vandalism, until we found the bodies." The officer stated flatlyBodies?
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