✓ [18+] EVERY LITTLE THING

I V . O F F W I T H A B A N G

EVERY LITTLE THING
Copyright © 2020 by MischiefMaidenX

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A/N: Lovelies! Finally posting another update. Only at chapter four and already have almost 600 reads. You my loves, are the best <3

So thoughts on last chapter?

Also, good news—next chapter will finally be one from Adam's POV. I know you probably forgot about him huh? Haha.

I just want to put this out there to everyone who's either new or a dedicated fan to the Daniels Family Series—this story isn't going to be necessarily like the others. It's not going to be the whole they fall in love right away, get together, and live happily ever after right off the bat. There will be more drama, more moments of each one of them healing/growing, and more moments of family.

Also, this isn't one of those like the others where they have an ex that was a complete dick/bitch (insert Christine—ugh, I dislike her even more as I write There Goes My Everything even though she hasn't shown up yet; Bryan, Karen, etc.) that they hate now. The further we get into the story, the more you'll understand ;)

Overall, this still is a book about redemption/second chances. Which is what the Daniels Family Series is all about. Starting all from Daddy Nathan Daniels. Darn, you Nate and starting a trend ^_^

Remember to vote and comment <3

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I V . O F F  W I T H  A  B A N G

S A R A H

Okay, so when I packed all of our shit up back in New York, I did absolutely no organizing what so ever.

I merely tossed everything into boxes and slapped that puppy with packing tape, calling it a career. Thinking meh, I'll deal with it when we move into the house.

Well, now I'm kicking myself in the ass as the movers carry in the last remaining box and hand a clipboard to me to sign off that they completed their job.

The slightly obese curly haired guy that resembles Seth Rogen way back in the day, think Knocked Up days—gives me a two-finger salute as he steps out the front door and makes his way to the large moving truck where two other guys are waiting.

I lean back on a stack of boxes against the kitchen counter that are marked dishes and pinch the bridge of my nose.

This is the moment I wish I could wiggle my nose like Samantha from Bewitched and magically everything inside every single box in my house was put away, nice and organized.

Maybe if I close my eyes really tightly and wish upon a non-existent star that it'll happen. I close my eyes and after a few seconds, I peak through one eye and fuck if nothing happened. Jiminy Cricket is a damn liar.