All Eliza needed was some wine to set the mood. Her favorite kind of wine, and though the situation was tense, wine would cool her down. Jack was determined to get some, but the roads were kinda slick on the surprisingly February day. However, all you need is one slip up. Jack was hit by a car and is doomed to a coma for 6 months. Eliza is there every day to wait for the time when, the love of her life is conscious. His brain is mute but not his memories When Eliza picks up his journal to spend the time, she reads his memories. More like theirs: Memories of Jack and Eliza.

I let him in; I gave into my urges and loved him in every complete shape and form. His blonde locks as I ran my hands through them, his mesmerizing blue eyes that I couldn't resist and his adorning smirk. He captured my heart within, but I did what I thought I had to do. And I continued what I thought I wanted. I thought I knew, but I realized that it was always him. I let her in; even after the fucked up shit we've been through, she managed to put up with it all. Her beautiful skin and brown eyes couldn't keep me away. I could not stand not making her ignite with fury. I could not stand not being around her. I couldn't see her cry either. I thought I knew her, every inch of her, and maybe I did. But what I was sure about, that I was going to see her again. We would be together and I would not let her slip through my fingers again. "I look at her, the woman that my heart skips a beat for. The woman that I've fell in love with every single day. The woman that I've been through hell and back with. She's everything I want and absolutely need. I give myself to her completely. Whatever she wanted, I will gladly provide, because she has my heart in her hands." Continue on the heartfelt journey of the two characters you adore and want to shake some sense into all over again. Be sucked in by their love and life no one has ever known before. And be consumed by the past, present, and future of Nia Gardson and Aiden Thomas.

Behind all of it, I was the only person that really knew the real me. Everyone thought I was the wild child, with beautiful looks and that was it. And it's hard to argue with the press when you don't get the full story. They twist and turn everything around until it's hard to see beyond the lies. And they pile up high. I would know, because I'm living one. I may be beautiful, but that doesn't mean I'm not broken. Join Elliot Roberts and her rollercoaster of finding herself and endure her desires, reasons, and claim on life. Whether it is false or true.

Original Story (there's also a rewrite of this story) ---- Horrible secrets and tragic pasts, she was the smart girl in the back of class. Witty comments and silent thoughts, two people who's lives fell in fault. Quiet sobs and nightly hugs, neither really gave a fuck. Meaningful words and days of fun, the ultimate love. story: copyright two-thousand fourteen (unedited) adrianna moton poem: copyright two-thousand fifteen adrianna moton

*please I wrote this story at 16/17. I'm 28 and I crying because I would rewrite this in a heartbeat especially coz I sound crazy* so read with caution* I fell in love. I fell in love with a fairytale. Oh Yes I did. You know that one story that gives every little girl hope out there that good things comes to those who wait even in rare but simple gems like a glass slipper. This hope carried me far and beyond. It's a fairytale that is relatable to any prospect of life. There will be your evil stepmother and evil stepsisters, your fairy godmother and your one true prince. It is a fairytale that understands the element of surprise: That what we seek can sometimes appear right in front of us without knocking on our doors. Most especially, it's a fairytale that understand the importance of love: A true prince may not come in shape of perfection but regardless of the imperfections and flaws, he would still remain perfect in your eyes. Regardless of its flaws, Africa was my father and Nigeria was my prince. Africa was my birthplace, born to the greatest warriors on the planet: Shaka Zulu, Nelson Mandela, Cleopatra, Kofi Annan even Didier Drogba the famous footballer. Most especially it was my home. It was the place I learnt to walk, talk, run and now 200000 feet above the ground I look down at my home. Little lights flickering everywhere like fireflies contrasting with the dark night. Maybe one day I will come back to my father. My prince. My Ile.

Isyss Dulay has been bestfriends and next door neighbors with Courtney King all her life. But along with Courtney comes her twin brother Cory, who happens to be the school's number one hottie. But Isyss doesn't like Cory and she's probably the only girl in school who doesn't; minus Courtney of course. Due to a little prank played in class one day, Isyss and Cory find themselves in a 'Im better than you' game. This game consist of sexual teasing, flirting, and taunting. Who will be victorious, leaving the guilty party lovestruck.... [the sequel to this book is called "Sooner or Later...You'll Want Me Again."

I Nia Gardson hated Aiden Thomas with all my guts, and I'm sure he hated me too. With his blonde hair, icy blue eyes and that smirk of his, it really got to me. And when he looked at me, I couldn't help but feel something other than hatred, maybe lust? But it couldn't be because I am not attracted to Aiden Thomas in any way. He is an arrogant douche, and trust me, I wasn't his type. He went for anything with a pretty face. And I for one, didn't care what he thought of me. Aiden Thomas just really got under my skin, and I didn't like it... "I probably sound insecure and scary right now, but that's what happens when boys get under your skin. They make you feel things you've never felt before and it completely fucks up your mind." Find out what happens to the two opposites and fall in love with their weird love. Their weird Hate, Their Weird Relationship.

"You're a what?" Devin's full lips frowned as she eyed the man that only stood 3 feet away from her. "A sex therapist. Now please fix your expression, Miss Rodriguez." His creamy baritone responded agitatedly as she shook her head from side to side. "I need therapy, sir. Not any fucking dick." She growled, attempting to make a full exit out of the office, but not before she felt his large strong hands cup her small tiny wrists. He spun her around gracefully, his head dropping down to the space between their heads as his husky Burberry cologne overtook her nostrils. "Je ne suis pas d'accord belle dame," He muttered that beautiful second language against her skin, the language of love, as he smirked. She almost practically collapsed in his arms at the sound of it and he knew that he had her. "Maybe some fucking dick is exactly what you need." ©Copyright KeKe Biddle 2014 All Rights Reserved.