Finn Gibson. Number seven on the rugby team. A gentleman, proper like. Always opening doors and saying things like "after you" and "you alright there?" in this soft voice that somehow makes you feel seen. He's funny too - not the show-off type of funny, more the kind where you're halfway through laughing before you realise it was even a joke. Real clever wit, quiet like. It's not fair, honestly. And he drums, like actually properly drums, not just tapping out rhythms on the school desk like every other lad in Tommen. He's in a band and all. Do I like him? Yeah. I like him loads. More than I should. But this isn't that kind of story. I come from a house where everything's heavy. Where things crack and break and no one says sorry. Where nice things don't last, and if you want something - really want something - it gets used against you. You don't let your heart out in a place like mine. You learn to nod and keep quiet and do what Da says, even when you hate it, even when it's wrong. That's just how it is. So when Finn looks at me like I matter - really, properly matter - I want to believe it. I want to tell him I think about him when I fall asleep. So yeah. I like Finn Gibson. But liking someone like him... it feels like trying to hold light in your hand. Beautiful. Impossible. *** Mina O'Neill. Jesus, I don't even know where to start with her. She's the most beautiful human being I've ever seen in my life, and I mean that with my whole chest. She moves like she doesn't even touch the ground. A ballerina, and not the stuck-up kind either. She's always working, always rehearsing, and when she talks about dance, it's like watching someone light up from the inside. And me? I'm just... me. Watching her from the side of things. Hoping. I think she knows. I know she knows. She's not daft. But there's something holding her back. I don't know what. Maybe it's me. Maybe it's something in her life I don't see. But I'm not giving up.

Hughie Biggs. The love of my bloody life. The fella I swore I'd grow old with, get a ring on my finger from, have the big church wedding, the lot. I used to lie awake at night and picture his hand in mine, picture his laugh bouncing off the walls of our kitchen. Back then, I didn't have the faintest clue about the way the world could chew you up and spit you out. I remember us when we were younger, before everything went sour. When Caoimhe was still alive, when her laugh could still fill a room. When I still had friends-real ones, the kind you'd sit on the green with till it got dark, passing a bag of crisps around, talking rubbish and thinking it meant the world. Back then, we were untouchable, or so we thought. But nothing lasts, does it? Not love, not family, not even friendship. Everything rots eventually, like fruit left out too long. Secrets crawl their way to the surface no matter how deep you bury them, and when they do, they choke you. That's what happened to me. That's what happened to Hughie. The truth came crawling, and it ruined everything. So I've made up my mind. I can't stay here, not in this cursed town, not walking the same streets where his hand used to brush mine, where Caoimhe used to skip beside me, where I laughed like I actually believed in tomorrow. It's all poisoned now. Every corner, every memory, every face that looks at me like they know more than they should. I'm leaving. For good this time. I'll pack a bag, take nothing but what I can carry, and I'll vanish before anyone can stop me. No goodbyes, no explanations. Just gone. Because the truth is, there's nothing left here for me anymore-only ghosts, and I've had enough of them to last me a lifetime.

Tara Lynch is dead. Or so everyone thinks. After the devastating fire that claimed her parents and her childhood home, her younger siblings were placed into the unexpected care of her boyfriend's parents. That boyfriend? None other than Johnny Kavanagh, Ireland's golden boy of rugby, blissfully unaware that his girlfriend isn't just alive, but carrying his child. Now, under the assumed identity of Elizabeth Ladner, Tara finds herself on the sun-drenched shores of Mallorca, courtesy of the quiet, unwavering support of Malachy and Ciaran. With nothing left to lose, having already sacrificed everything-her past, her name, and her connection to the siblings she adores- Tara is determined to forge a new life. She knows that the unexpected life blooming inside her is both a miracle and a threat: a secret that could shatter Johnny's rising international stardom and expose her carefully constructed new reality. As the lines between Tara and Elizabeth blur, and the due date looms, she must decide if her desperate act of self-preservation was the ultimate betrayal, or the only way to protect a future she never thought she'd have. But how long can a dead girl stay hidden, especially when the greatest secret she carries is about to be born?

Book 2 of Showing 15

Niamh Lynch tries not to be angry. While her older brother and sister feel the weight of their situation on their shoulders every moment of the day, Niamh chooses to be gentle. She's always been sweet, even in the face of a terrible secret she keeps about her father. Owen Gibson is nothing like his brother. With a dead twin and a father he can't remember, Owen has only known tragedy since before he was in primary school. After being a "depressed loner" for his entire life, with a single friend in the world, he finally hangs with his brother's rugby-obsessed friends, including one with a bright-eyed younger sister that makes him want to spill all of his secrets.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃 He was so happy. How was he so happy all the time? Nobody is that happy. It's impossible. ____________________________________ 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇 I hated everything about myself. The way my body matured differently than Shannon's. The way my body was curved and built for the eyes of man. I hated me. I hated everything. 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐍 I was funny. Not as funny as my brother. I had a nice smile, my mother told me so(but she wouldn't believe me if I had told her) I was good at smiling, it made me look happy and that made me feel happy. I wanted to wipe any unhappy memories out of my brain, I wanted to clean the dirt dug into my skin. But I can't. So I'm just happy. 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝟖 BOYS OF TOMMEN FANFIC #1 Shannonlynch (12/29/24 #1 chloewalsh (1/6/25

IN WHICH: TADHG LYNCH X LEAH DALY "You always were two steps ahead of everyone. We'd walk behind while you would run. And the years have proved to offer nothing since you moved. Now you're long gone, and I can't move on, and I miss you." - Missing, No Mercy "Shut up, Lynch." "Shutting up, Daly." Started: June 5th, 2025 Finished: March 25th, 2026 word count: ≈150k words ‼️ I'VE WRITTEN "TADGH" INSTEAD OF "TADHG" THROUGHOUT ACT 1 AND ACT 2 I'M SORRY

Trauma; a deeply distressing experience that overwhelms a person's ability to cope, resulting in lasting negative impacts on their emotional, psychological, and physical well-being. ---- "I love you." "It'll pass." ---- Fem oc x Male oc Boxer x Rugby Player -- book 2 of 2 #1 johnny