Now a digital pilot for SYFY The Society knows when we're going to die. They imprint it on our arms at birth. I was supposed to die yesterday. I'm the girl who's Expired. Winner of the 2020 Readers Choice Awards Cover by @Forcade

{SEQUEL TO CALL ME ELLA} Yes, seven years have passed since I broke free from my own from of twisted fairy-tale. I cut ties with my "evil" stepmother, my stepsisters and from all the hatred I had in me. Yes, I moved on and left that place, carried on to live my own life in my own terms, without defining myself in terms of how much I hated someone. Yes, I let go of my love to focus on myself, my dreams and my career. Yes, during all these years I've thought of him and missed him, but I've lived content with my decision, knowing it was for the best. Yes, I found myself and I feel free, I'm also ready to give myself a chance to focus on that other part I decided to put aside seven years ago. Yes, I'm ready to give love another chance, but even if I've changed a lot, I'm still the same girl from seven years ago in that celebrity retreat centre, just improved. I'm still Ella. BONUS BOOK in the Aware Princess Series flower: Daffodil, it symbolises "return my affection; new beginnings."

I live in the most expensive city of the world, a cosmopolitan capital. It's vibrant with all its people, it's loud, it's crowded. It's beautiful. But I'm not part of it. I only see it from behind a window, high in the sky, away from everyone else. Just like in that old fairy-tale, my mum keeps me inside the penthouse, as high as it can get, doors closed to everyone else but her. She says the world outside is scary, it's horrible and cruel and I'm better off inside, where no one can harm me. I don't have real friends. I don't have even school friends. I don't have anyone else but my mother. I know she wants to protect me, even if she doesn't tell me from what exactly, yet I know she has the best intentions at heart. I just wish I was allowed to play outside, from time to time. This is my life, however I do tell myself sometimes: Someday, you'll break free, Roselle. BOOK 6 In the Aware Princess Series flower: Purple Lilac, it symbolises "first emotion of love."

As someone who's been so pampered to the point of oblivion, I never noticed the similarities with the fairy-tale. Every little girl should see her father as a king and her home is her kingdom. Almost every girl wants to be a princess or is treated as one. Some approach that more than others. I was one of those who are really close to be one. With a father that was like a king, soon came a stepmother hungry for power and money. Of course, I only realised that when Dad wasn't in the picture anymore. It wasn't jealousy because I was prettier than her, or that I think, what pushed her to hate me and to try to get rid of me; it was that as soon as I was twenty-one I would end up inheriting all of my father's business. Not her. So I had to disappear for her to be the only queen. Just like in the fairy tale, someone was hired to get rid of me. Did your parents read the tale to you? They didn't to me, so maybe that's why I didn't notice how much I resemble that princess. So that's me: Blanca, like Snow... Snow White. BOOK 5 In the Aware Princess Series flower: Thornapple, it symbolises "disguise."

Let's get the facts straight. I am no heroine and I will never bring pride to my family. I am what you could call a failure. My grades? Average. My social life? Average. Talents? Hmm... well, I think I have none. I'm not exceptional in any way and I know I'm a disappointment for my father. And in this day and age there's no way I could just take my father's place to save him from a horrible fate.  There is a huge weight on my shoulders but I can't carry it no matter how hard I try. I have no idea what I can do, I only know what I can't do. Yet I still would try anything to make my father proud, even just once. Oh right, I forgot to tell you whom I was name after. Yes, I was named after Mulan, that bright heroine who saved China and brought pride to her family. Talk about big expectations. But Mulan doesn't suit me, so it's just Ann. -:-:- BOOK #4 in the Aware Princess Series flower: Peony, it symbolises "Prosperity, honor (in China)."

They walk among us. All three, living normal mortal lives. Cloe is graduating college; Lacey is getting married; Atria is bar-hopping and breaking hearts. Today, they are human. But they are also the three Fates—the all-powerful directors of human destiny. And they don't even know it. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos did not always take mortal form. They dwelt in the Cave, working the Loom, till something happened on Olympus that changed everything one day. Since then, they've roamed the earth and led thousands of lives throughout its history. The Fates may not remember who they are, for now... but their legacy is not to be forgotten. And their story is just begging to be told. *A Wattpad Featured story* *Winner of 2014 Watty Award – Best of Interactive Storytelling* [PG-13 for adult language, non-graphic sexual content, mature themes]

Rated #79 in action 3rd of November 2014 Rated #91 in adventure 15th of December 2014 Book one in the Imperfect Trillogy. F means failure. F means freedom. I am the only F. Mae is a black, and the only black with the F grade tattooed on her shoulder. The reason she is the only one? Because F means freedom. And freedom isn't allowed in the complex. The complex. The place where dreams began. The place you could be safe from war. But when dreams begin, nightmares do to. The complex follows a simple but harsh system. The criminals are the blacks. The non-criminals are whites. Simple, right? But nothing is simple. Especially not for Maedana, the F. Mae is in constant threat from the place she calls home. Now a new threat is rising, one that Mae is connected with. And what about the new boy? Is Calix Theon tied in this somehow? And how can Mae protect him? How can Mae fight off the coming war? And more importantly, What is the real price for Mae's imperfect freedom? © Amelia Rose, covered under the copyright contract. May contain inappropriate content.

Du noir ... C'est maintenant tout ce qu'elle voit. Il y a déjà cinq ans que le souvenir de cet accident me hante. J'aimerais qu'elle puisse me parler, qu'elle me dise qu'elle ne m'en veut pas. Mais me voilà une fois de plus devant elle, plongée dans le silence, à attendre une réponse. En vain. Ainsi était ma vie depuis ces cinq dernières années, jusqu'à aujourd'hui, où je rencontre ce garçon si ... Étrange. Je ne le connais à peine, mais je sais que rien ne sera plus pareil. Même si j'ignore totalement qui il est, j'ai la certitude que sa présence mettra enfin un terme à ce silence. Ce garçon n'est pas comme les autres, je le sens. Pourtant, quelque chose me dit qu'il pourrait lui redonner sa voix, ne serait-ce que pour prononcer mille mots. J'étais toutefois loin de me douter que mon voeu serait exaucé. Nos destins reposent à présent sur elle qui n'a comme seule arme, que mille mots. Ces mots qui à eux seuls ont le pouvoir de tout changer.

« Trois pour cent de la population ne peut être atteint par le virus. Mais dans le camp il a fallu qu’il n’y ait qu’Enzo et moi. » On aurait pu s'imaginer que j'étais enfin en sécurité derrière les quatre murs qui me séparaient du monde extérieur. Que les infectés ne pourraient jamais me toucher, me briser et m'entraîner dans des aventures inconcevables. Les infectés n'étaient pas capable de cela mais les humains, eux, oui. Tout cela partait d'un bon sentiment, ils voulaient sauver l'humanité mais au détriment de quoi ? De ma stabilité mentale ? De la possible perte de l'homme que j'aimais mais aussi de celle de mon petit frère ? Je ne pouvais pas les haïr, j'étais incapable de ruiner tout ce qu'ils avaient construits mais je pouvais essayer de faire une chose que je faisais depuis deux ans et demi : sauver mon frère de tous les dangers possibles et inimaginables.

Ma vie ressemblait à un conte de fées. Je faisais ce que je voulais quand je le souhaitais. J'étais l'une des meilleures danseuses new-yorkaises de ma génération. J'avais déjà un avenir tracé dans cette voie qui me plaisait tant. Je vivais avec une famille aimante dans une maison splendide. J'allais commencer des études de journalisme dans l'une des écoles les plus renommées de l'État. J'habitais à New York et je ne comptais pas m'en plaindre. Mais tout cela c'était avant. Un beau jour l'alarme d'urgence sonna dans toute la ville. La moitié de mon petit monde s'écroula. Un mois plus tard, je me retrouvai devant un « infecté » et je découvris ce que le gouvernement tentait de nous cacher. Ce jour-là, ma vie bascula, entraînant mon petit frère et moi dans un voyage suicidaire mais rempli d'espoir. Je n'avais que 19 ans mais tout d'une grande. Mon petit frère n'avait que 9 ans et ne connaissait pas la définition du mot « danger ». Courir fut l'unique mot qui me vint en tête. Courir. Courir pour survivre ou s'arrêter et mourir.