Twisty, character-driven psychological and domestic suspense is a clear priority. She wants the kind of plot that keeps you second-guessing every character and rereads its own premise by the final act. Writers in the vein of Lucy Foley, Andrea Bartz, May Cobb, Vera Kurian, Eliza Jane Brazier, Laurie Elizabeth Flynn, Jeneva Rose, and Jessica Strawser are the target audience for this slot.

She welcomes murder mystery across a wide register: cozy or hardboiled, contemporary or historical, earnest or comedic, with family chaos enthusiastically invited. The through-line is a satisfying puzzle and strong voice. Big ensemble family dynamics and hijinks are a plus, not a liability.

She flags this as a HUGE current priority. She wants emotionally resonant, beautifully written fiction that works as a beach read but rewards deeper discussion — the kind of novel a book club orders twelve copies of. Taylor Jenkins Reid-style compulsive readability paired with literary sensibility is the sweet spot.

She covers the full fantasy spectrum: low-stakes cozy fantasy with warm settings, high/epic world-building, portal fantasy, and romantasy. The key is craft and emotional investment — she wants to fall into the world. Sarah J. Maas and Leigh Bardugo name-checks signal she is equally comfortable with commercial romantasy and darker, more literary secondary-world work.

She specifically calls out genre hybrids — not just horror, not just romance, but the fusion. If your book is genuinely difficult to shelve because it crosses these lanes intentionally, that is a feature for her, not a problem.

She is actively looking for romance and romantic comedy, with particular enthusiasm for POC voices, body-positive romance, LGBTQ+ romance, and adventure romance with a propulsive hook (think fish-out-of-water, high-stakes adventure framing). Sports romance is an explicit want. The formula she responds to: an irresistible hook, an 'impossible' central situation, and characters who feel genuinely quirky and rootable.

She wants heartfelt, readable women's fiction with an upmarket edge — the kind of book that feels like a meaningful summer read. Sister relationships, complex family bonds, and intergenerational tension are recurring themes she gravitates toward.

She craves speculative twists grafted onto familiar genre frames: a rom-com with a time loop, a mystery with a fantastical creature, a thriller set across parallel worlds. The speculative element should feel addictive and singular rather than world-building-heavy. Think one bold 'what if' that reframes everything.

She is explicit: she does not want cold, idea-first sci-fi. The emotional core must be front and center — human connection, grief, longing, the kind of heartache that lingers. High-concept worldbuilding is welcome when it serves the emotional story. This Is How You Lose the Time War is the clearest signal of her taste here.

This is her most defined nonfiction lane. She is actively hunting for the next significant ex-evangelical voice, and for feminist and LGBTQ+ perspectives operating within or departing from a Christian framework. Spiritual deconstruction and reconstruction narratives — the honest reckoning with inherited faith — are a particular draw. Platform and expertise matter here.

She wants credentialed millennial or Gen-Z experts writing accessibly about real-life milestones and transitions: divorce, sexuality, pregnancy, parenting. Voice and a fresh generational perspective are as important as credentials. She also has a specific interest in alternative approaches to death and end-of-life care — living funerals, death doulas, at-home body care — an underserved and growing cultural conversation.

Memoir is gated: she will only consider it from writers who arrive with a significant pre-existing platform. Do not query memoir without one — this is her own stated condition, not a soft preference.

She has wide appetite for YA fantasy across registers: cozy and epic, contemporary-inflected and sci-fi-adjacent. Series potential is a plus. Her touchstones range from lush romantasy (Caraval, A Curse So Dark and Lonely) to harder-edged mech-inflected work (Iron Widow), signaling genuine range.

She is looking for YA thrillers and mysteries with the hook-driven pacing of One of Us Is Lying. A strong central mystery and ensemble cast are assets.

Same emotional mandate as adult sci-fi: feeling must match or exceed concept. She wants to cry at your YA sci-fi. The Ones We're Meant to Find is the clearest taste signal — quiet, human, devastatingly sad.

She welcomes YA horror in two flavors: deeply atmospheric and unsettling (House of Hollow, Wilder Girls) or sharply, even extravagantly satirical (Bodies Bodies Bodies). Both ends of the horror tone spectrum are fair game.

Speculative YA with social or political teeth — The Grace Year is the comp, signaling she responds to dystopian or speculative premises that interrogate real-world power structures.

She is interested in MG graphic novels, but only from author-illustrators — writers submitting art-free graphic novel scripts should not query this category. Fantasy and contemporary are both welcome. The bar is whether a ten-year-old would love it.

She is looking for MG fantasy with series legs — expansive worlds that can sustain multiple books. Chris Colfer's Land of Stories, The School for Good and Evil, and Wings of Fire are the tone and scope references.

She is seeking MG contemporary fiction that honestly explores multicultural and multilingual lived experience — stories that reflect the linguistic and cultural complexity of real kids' lives.

MG horror is on her list with no further qualification — suggesting she is genuinely open and will assess project by project rather than applying narrow sub-genre restrictions.