In a corrupt community, young girls are sold to men as mere objects of pleasure and they are kept for as long as the men desire. But things take a turn when the spoilt son of a wealthy businessman crosses paths with an unfortunate girl forced into the twisted world of Baby Dolls. Baby Doll © Wonderwall123 2013 - 2014

One small argument. 2 Best Friends. 1 Band. Love starts to form. What will become of this pairing, and will their feelings for each other bloom more than just being 'best friends'? Find out what happens when local celebrities from the band One Direction Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles starts to develop feelings for each other, and can their love defy all obstacles, while making the same mistakes? (Slow-editing will be done in the Summer of '14)

You know my name, you've seen my picture and you know I love Starbucks, but do you know who I really am? It's my turn to tell my side of the story. I am Eleanor Calder.

DISCLAIMER: This story was written in late 2012. I wrote Strings Attached as an adolescent with no idea how a healthy, adult relationship should function. This story is dark and twisted in a way that my teen mind couldn't comprehend at the time. There are more than a few scenes in this book with sensitive content. I--in no way--support rape culture and I do not condone my character's actions. However, as I said, this story was written in an ignorant state of mind. I will not remove this story from Wattpad. It is part of my past and though I am disappointed with the content, it shows how far I've come not just as an author but as a free-thinking adult. Thank you for reading. **Excerpt** "Say... it," She gasped, throwing her head back, cupping my face in her hands so that I was forced to meet her gaze. "You're mine." She held my gaze for a second more, before crushing her lips against my own, arms wrapping tight around my neck, pulling me down to her level. Arms sliding easily around her, she wrapped her legs around me as I lifted her up, lips traveling over her chest and collarbone. She moaned as my hands dug into her tender flesh, pulling on it, their violence a stark contrast to the gentle kisses teasing their way up her neck. Bright lines marked the paths that my nails had etched into her skin, marking her, beautiful red tattoos, spreading out over her entire body. Her small hands knotted in my hair, pulling harder and harder as she fought the urge to cry out...