So i was causally stalking ilona andrews blog site as i do on occasion.... and came across this beauty. here's hoping they don't mind me sharing :/ cause it really is talent.

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Today we’re bringing you a snippet from a young YA writer.  Enjoy.  Please be civil in your feedback.  Comments with abusive language or personal attacks on the author will be crushed.

Chapter One

“And exactly how long have you been vomiting blood?”

“About… maybe three or four weeks.” I clawed through my knotted hair in a failed attempt to tame the mess.

Dr. James scribbled something illegible onto his clipboard and re-adjusted his thick framed glasses.

“And when you vomit, is it bright red or deep red like coffee grounds?”

“Bright red. Really red.”

As he wrote what I’m sure was a very in depth description of the color of my vomit, the severity of my exhaustion really started to set in. God, to lay in a warm bed would’ve fit the description of heaven in that moment.

“Have you had any recent nosebleeds, surgeries, dental work, stomach problems, or severe coughing?”

I shook my head. At this point my eye lids felt as though they had weights attached to them.

“Do you drink alcohol or smoke?”

I knew this was coming. The single question every teenager dreads when seeing the Doctor.

No matter what they say about confidentiality, somehow a couple of hours after I see the Doctor, Nancy spontaneously develops a sixth sense that primarily is restricted to my after school activities. Oh the joys of small town communities.

“Is that really relevant?” I tried talking my way out of answering.

Doctor James sent a disapproving look my way.

“Ok, yeah. I do.”

An exasperated sigh escaped him as he returned to his clipboard.

What else do adults expect children to do in Disney, Oklahoma? Nancy complains that since it’s summer I should spend more time outside, scampering about in the woods looking for Narnia or splashing around in the water.

I suppose this place looks it’d be fun during the summer, if the population didn’t double each June with tourists. The regular standard tourists are alright, they mostly spend their time on rental boats that cramp together to share the lake. They aren’t nearly as bad as the hicks from the Carolinas.

Every summer, trailers full of them stampede down Highway 28, then unload their four wheelers and ridiculous gas guzzling trucks to do some “off roading” in the woods. Most locals tolerate them, but they really just annoy the living shit out of me and I will do anything to avoid any social interaction with them.

“Are you experiencing any other symptoms?” Dr. James snapped me back to reality.

“I haven’t slept in four days.”

He leaned in closer and folded his hands in his lap.” And why is that?”

“I’ve been having these dreams lately.”

“Are you having nightmares?” He questioned.

“No, I don’t think they’re nightmares. I’m not scared, at least.” I replied honestly and cleared my throat.

“What happens in these dreams then?”

I hesitated. I’ve only told two people what I saw in my sleep.

“It’s always the same dream. I don’t know where I am. Just on a rocky cliff somewhere.”

He motioned for me to continue.

“It’s quiet. So quiet, it hurts. There’s this disgusting smell… God, that smell.”

 “Can you describe the smell?”

“Death… it smells like something dead. Like when there’s a raccoon’s corpse hanging around somewhere.”

“Please continue.”

“I look down and scream, but nothing comes out. It’s like I’m there, but at the same time I’m not. When I look down I see hundreds of dead bodies. Corpses. Piled on top of each other. It’s terrible. They’re everywhere. Then I see him.”

I started to get flashes of the vision, almost like I’m dreaming again. I knew for a fact if I had let go of everything going on around me that I could have been engulfed entirely into my sub consciousness.

“Who? Who do you see?”

“I don’t know. I only see the back of him. He’s standing among them. Stepping all over them. He raises both his arms, and then these… gigantic wings emerge out of his back. They’re colorful, like peacock feathers almost. Then there’s a whisper in my ear. It sounds like it’s right behind me-”

Something slammed against the glass window. Hard. The doctor practically jumped out of his chair.

“Holy shit! What was that?” I clamped my hand over my mouth. I would catch hell for swearing.

Dr. James cautiously walked toward the window. He opened it and poked his head out.

“What in God’s name?” I heard him mumble in shock.

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thats all I'll post, so to read the rest go here....

http://www.ilona-andrews.com/blog/2014/05/27/and-now-for-something-different/

talk about talent right?