I just finished Holly Black's
The Coldest Girl in Coldtown and liked it a lot. YA, but definitively not sparkly or harmless vampires. It starts with the protagonist waking up in the bathroom after a party. At first she's worried that her friends have taken embarrassing pictures of her while she was blacked out. Then...
Quote:
The tan carpet was stiff and black with stripes of dried blood, spattered like a Jackson Pollock canvas. The walls were streaked with it, handprints smearing the dingy beige surfaces. And the bodies. Dozens of bodies. People she'd seen every day since kindergarten, people whom she'd played tag with and cried over and kissed, were lying at odd angles, their bodies pale and cold, their eyes staring like rows of dolls in a shop window.
...
Otta's, Ilaina's, and Jon's bodies were piled together. They'd just gotten back from summer cheer camp and had started the party off with a series of backflips in the yard just before sunset, as mosquitoes buzzed through the warm breeze. Now dried blood crusted on their clothing like rust, tinting their hair, dotting their skin like freckles. Their eyes were locked open, their pupils gone cloudy.
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