Working for a world-leading mafia, Harry knows how to kill, how to hunt his victims, and how to avoid any company of any kind. He's used to a lonely, quiet, and harsh environment. He is the best at what he does. And everything he does becomes problematic when he's assigned to protect the boss's daughter from world-kno...
Devil's Due: To acknowledge the positive qualities of a person who is unpleasant or disliked. Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River co...
All Harry wanted to do was get over his ex-girlfriend, so he got under Ophelia. *This story contains mature and explicit content*
"Please Harry! I promise I won't do anything ever again, just please don't hurt me," I beg as I look into his now dark eyes. I see him pull out a scarf, as involuntary tears start to stream down my cheeks. "Don't worry babe. I'm not going to kill you," he says as he brings up his big hand to my face and uses his thu...
"I was scared... but wouldn't you be? If a serial killer was utterly obsessed with you?" Highest rank: #2 in Thriller
Harry Edward Styles. Room 402 at Eastwood Mental Asylum. Known for turning his victims psychotic. To be handled with extreme precaution.
*Story containes MATURE & EXPLICIT CONTENT* THIS IS A SEQUEL / PART 2. Read "Stall" before this book, unless you just like spoiling things for yourself. If that's the case, you do you boo. "Something can be both delicate and violent" *** Harry lowers his eyes at me as he backs me up against the wall, the red lighting...
***completed*** NOW PUBLISHED ON AMAZON Harry Styles. The strange one. The freak. The one who was too kind for his own good, trapped in a world where his job was to bring people pain. Sophia 'Spice' Winters. The dancer. The stripper. The one who who trapped in a world where her job was to provide men with nothing but...
"Smoking is bad, you know." The placid voice speaks up from the distant dark corner, nothing to see but a tall silhouette and an orange glow of a cigarette cherry. "It's the least of my problems," I murmur with my own between my lips, proceeding to feel the stagnant debris valley my throat when I suck delicately. He...