**completed**
HIGHEST RANKINGS:
#1 IN FICTION
#1 IN SLOWBURN
#1 IN COLLEGE
Penn State University.
Home to the craziest sorority girls, most obnoxious football players, and a girl that's trying to dig her way out of her parent's mess.
Naomi Black wa...
BOOK NUMBER TWO: BLAKE AND SLOANE COMES OUT ON JUNE 2, 2021!
Surprised?
Here is a little preview to the new book! Can't wait to see you all there!
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Damage Control.
A noun.
Actions taken to minimize damage to a reputation, credibility, or public image caused by a controversial act(s).
Thirteen letters to make up two words. Thirteen letters to make up two words that could fix someone. Thirteen letters to make up two words that could ruin someone.
There was no other way to explain my life except damage control. There wasn't a part of me that wasn't getting exploited at the moment.
We needed a distraction.
She was the distraction–she just didn't know.
"Phillips and Day, the Republican nominees, are way ahead in the polls in more ways than one! Philips and Day have an astonishing amount of evidence against them when it comes to sexual misconduct, racism, and stupidity. There are currently in favor of the American people by 15% while Jon Russel, the Democratic nominee is being dragged in the dust!" The news reporter spoke as I sipped on my beer.
"I'm not one to get too political, but I don't think people should be calling Russell the underdog at this moment. It is the end of August. We have until November 4th people! Get out and vote, get those voter registrations in! Anyone but Phillips and Day!" The video cut to a protest outside of the Capitol building.
I chewed on my lip and turned the channel off.
Blah, blah, blah.
Fucking media always coming up with the damndest things to say.
It's very easy to sway an opinion on someone. The media controls people, installs fear into people. The media essentially ruins people.
People like my family and me.
My mother, Eleanor, is a legal United States citizen born and raised in Paris, France by bakery people. I never knew my mom's family because dad didn't want me hanging around people who lived like rats and had rats.
I was an only child.
My father grew up in Michigan, went and played football for Penn State. There, he met my mother. A young french girl, working on a student visa–in a cafe in Happy Valley. My mother had dropped out of college because she couldn't afford it however, my father's family was dirt rich.
Filthy rich.
With the small loan of a million dollars, my father paid for my mother to go back to school.
