Author: Laurie
Title: Grey
Genre: Sci-Fi
285 words
“Hey, Ray.”
He blinks a couple of times, then looks down at me with narrowed eyes.
“Don't talk to me like you're my friend,” he snaps.
“Woah, you're in a bad mood. Is it because you're guarding the doors again?”
He grits his teeth.
“No, it's because some of my colleagues were murdered, that's why. What the hell do you think you're doing, talking to a superior like this? I should report you, and maybe I should say something about how you were talking like a traitor earlier?”
He grins victoriously but I play bored and give him an even look.
“So what?” I say. “I'll just tell them you were on duty at the time the Grey got in.”
The blood literally seeps from his face. He stares at me with eyes so wide he begins to remind me of an owl. A really big owl that could crush my neck in one hand if he wanted.
But instead of the anger I expected, with possible violence, he just stands there and gapes at me. I shift awkwardly. I'd wanted a rise out of him so he'd be less cautious about telling me what was going on, but now that my plan had failed, I wasn't sure what to do.
“Hey,” I say at last, “don't stare at me like I've gone mad. Say something.”
“A Grey?” he croaks. He looks genuinely scared. If it had been normal circumstances, I would have made fun of him. But no, the fact he looks like that made me realise for the first time just how serious the danger is. And that thought sends chills down my spine.
Author: vintagegirl
Title: Fitz
Genre: Contemporary YA
1st Page (293 words)
After her death, it snowed for the first time in years. It was the first September morning and the sun had hidden behind thick layers of mist and wet snow. Alex Emerson watched it from his bed as he tried to rid his head of thoughts and feelings. It was easy enough not to think, but much harder to get rid of the void that filled his stomach. Trying to concentrate on the falling flakes and figuring out why they were white didn’t help, either.
Nothing helped. Everything reminded him of her.
Her name had been Beth. Beth Farlow. Mrs. Farlow, whom he had never really known, had come round their house a day after it had happened. Her eyes had been bloodshot cracks in her face when she asked him why her daughter had to die at seventeen. Because she had, for one second, been careless in crossing the railroad tracks. He hadn’t told her that a train had hit Beth Farlow because she had thrown herself in front of it. Because she had thought that seventeen was seventeen years too many to live.
He had been in his bed ever since it happened three days ago. His mother had gone through his room, taking away all sharp objects and things that could be turned into sharp objects. So that his room was a safe haven where he couldn’t hurt himself. So that he was stuck inside his own isolated hell, feeling nothing and unable to get rid of the constant need to do what Beth did.
He hadn’t gone to school. He intended not to until everyone had forgotten about Beth and gone back to their stupid lives. Or at least until they had gotten the ridiculous memorial service over with.
Author: Emberchyld
Title: The Desired
Genre: YA Paranormal
1st Page (242 words)
“You are so important, Sara. To me and to the world,” He whispered, as the sky above us flamed in a lightshow unlike any I’ve ever seen.
No one ever told me that my world would end in a medieval castle halfway around the world from my parents, my school, and my best friend.
No one ever told me that I’d have to choose between two people who I loved—and that my choice would probably mean life and death.
No one had told me that my life would be anything but normal, that the summer before my senior year would be anything more than a tan, a few great photographs, and a lot of good memories.
No one told me that I would be the one who had to save the world.
I wish they had. I would totally have slept in this morning.
Chapter 1
The summer before my eighteenth birthday was supposed to be quiet and normal. Well, about as normal as a summer can be when you’re shipped off to hang out on your grandparents’ farm in Europe while the rest of your classmates get to go to the shore or Philly or Florida. But, still, I wasn’t expecting anything special. Jog every morning, take a few photos for my blog, prep some of my college applications, drink lots of espressos at the local internet café.
Yeah, things never seem to turn out the way that you want.
Author: Jenny Kaczorowski
Title: Rivers Underneath
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
1st Page (245 words)
Emma watched a cluster of mourners gather around the fresh grave at the foot of the hilly cemetery, curling and uncurling her fingers into her palms. The black-clad figures clung to one another, finding comfort in knowing they didn’t mourn alone. Comfort Emma couldn’t share. Their shock and grief and anger pounded against her, even across the distance.
The wind shaped Emma’s dark hair into softly waving tendrils and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. She shifted her feet and the frozen dew clinging to the grass crackled under her.
Emma knew she should join the other mourners. She knew they expected her to share in their public display of sorrow.
But she couldn’t.
The slightest touch, the slightest betrayal of emotion and she would lose everything. Even a hug, meant to console, could send her spiraling out of control.
She remained frozen, a silent witness to their grief. She saw every detail in stunning clarity. The lurid green of the carpet covering the hole in the ground and the cold, dead coffin that held her best friend. The sky, the same colorless grey as her eyes, burned in her mind. Overwhelming sorrow surrounded her, but she refused to absorb any of it.
Her parents were worried. Not that she blamed them. She’d never handled loss well. She’d nearly self-destructed when Gabriel left four years earlier. And he’d only moved away.
Lily was dead.
Unbidden, an image rose before her eyes.
Author: Ciara
Title: Untitled
Genre: Contemporary YA
1st Page (273 words)
I’m pretty sure my sister had decided to become a pagan or a Baptist or something before she off’d herself so I don’t know why we were having a Catholic funeral. I don’t believe in hell and she didn’t either, obviously, but I wonder when I see all these sad puffy eyed faces how many of them believe she’s burning now. Everyone says with their wringing hands that it’s such a waste but how long would she have to stay miserable to satisfy them? Maybe they only remember how she used to be before she got lost.
Our house is empty now of all the sombre tourist mourners paying to gape at our tragedy with their thoughtful lasagnes and endless pots of coffee. The ghost of condolences and morbid curiosity is hanging in the air on their stale cigarette smoke. But we’re alone now in this house separated by the gulf of our secret thoughts. Every day since she died has been leading up to the funeral and now that it’s all over I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. I don’t know if I’m allowed to go back in our room. My stomach turns over remembering how I used to wail about the unfairness of having to share a room with someone who would try to make my bed while I was sleeping in it and wave my own dirty socks in my face as proof that I never pick up after myself. I’ve been sleeping on the sofa since she died and no one has told me to go to bed so I guess that means I’m not supposed to.
