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𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. . . . . . . . . . . We've all heard the tales of good and bad, the tales of innocent deceit and her hero, the tales that despite their nature, show us the beauty in contrast. But it's the tales of pure evil that get swept under the rug. The tales of deception, where cruelty is rewarded. The tales that have you questioning who the real villain of the story is. There's a simple philosophy to most thing in life; two wrongs 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 make a right. So what ensues when you put two of the worst kinds of people together? Loyalties transfer, lines blur, and hatred ignites complete chaos. She's cunning. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. She's dangerous. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴. She's evil. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦. Or so that's what we're told. The devil is always worse. But maybe, just maybe, she's the devil in disguise, playing his advocate... . . . . . . . . . . - 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 - 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 - 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. -

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐚𝐦. . . . There are things you're taught not to do. Rules you're told to follow. People you're meant to forget. Flora never planned to end up here, but after one too many mistakes, her life dives for rock bottom. Now, she's trapped in a world she doesn't understand, haunted by a past she can't outrun. And at the center of it all stands the boy she'd sworn to forget. What once was fate, fractures into an illusion and twist into something dangerously evil. They were kids together. Friends together. 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵. She's new. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵. She's fresh meat. 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. What happens when they reunite? Secrets unfold. Chaos runs free. And the line between love and ruin sharpens into a thin blade, as history proves to repeat itself in its cruelest form. A girl. A boy. And a mad house that feeds on sin. There's no place to hide here. You can run, but you'll never get away. "𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘉𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘢𝘮. 𝘞𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺." 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲

STORY 2 1# in alcoholism 28/05/20 This story is the Sequel to Confessions of A Queen Bee- i suggest you read that one first! But honestly i am so thankful for anyone that reads either of my stories. This story will be in Ivy Jame's point of view but it is titled Confessions of a Teenage Addict because this story will be focused on Jackson and his struggles. There may be point of view changes though!

STORY 1 Ivy James loved being top of the school; she could click her fingers and get anyone to fulfill whatever her heart desired. She was happy enough with her equal, top jock, bad boy boyfriend, and there was nobody that could bring them down. Apart from a tiny rumor that people had seen Ivy and her boyfriend's best friend going into a room together at a party. What nobody knows is the evil that happened that night and the ways in which the queen bee's life changed accordingly. Trying to navigate the aftershocks of assault, Ivy captures the interest of another member of the 'golden group'. He is fascinated by her and the way she acts around people. And before they both know it, not only are they navigating their own secrets, they find themselves engulfed in each other. It's funny how we fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time. *Disclaimer* this story includes scenes of a sexual nature and reference to sexual violence. It will also include descriptions of symptoms of mental illness.

Lottie and Rowan's story: "You count to four." I state after a moment of silence. "I count to four and my safe number is three. You have turned everything upside down. Three, six, nine... Was what I used to think in. I used to check the door, the oven, the lights. But nine is not a multiple of four, it fucked me up." "Rowan I knew. I knew you were counting to four. You had four marks. You did the four fingers. You would kiss me in fours. But it is still not my fault." "I never said it was."

STORY 3 If he was a tornado, she was a hurricane. The problem was though, they both loved the feel of the rain.

Everyone says that healing is a personal journey- that you must be self-sufficient and independent... but well- historically that just does not happen. Healing has always been done by or with a community. So, when River and Amelia are constantly pushed together by their friends- as they clash and then work to form a friendship that turns into so much more- what happens when maybe the path to healing is not so simple as ticking off Amelia's self-care checklist, what happens when both Amelia and River find themselves needing each other in more ways than one? Relationships sustain us, but they also destroy us. Can both find the trust that they need to love each other healthily?

STORY 4 BOOK 2 of Loving November Grace Five years ago I was swept up in this storm. The storm of him. And for a beautiful second, our clouds, they collided. Our skin hydrated. Loving the way the rain felt across our nerves. The electricity, the lightning burning us. And this storm it broke and fixed me all at once. It tore down everything in it's path, destroyed walls and melted ice I thought was forever going to be inside of me, but it also nurtured my heart and I grew. I grew and I survived everything after; all the consequences of loving him. We survived. I was left with memories, and imprints that only whispered to be heard. And even they faded over the years. I wasn't ever going to see him again and that was okay. It was okay until it wasn't. Until it wasn't a reality. And he walked right into my little coffee shop. Because when two points are destined to touch, when paths are pushed together, forced to cross- There's no rule that they only cross once. If the universe wants it, it will always find a way to make the connection. Cole and I lost each other, and I thought that was fate, that is what was destined for us. It was the safest thing for us all. It still is. And that is fine. But when we did meet again, all those years later- it wasn't. Nothing at all was fine. There are so many reasons why I should have stayed away, so many reasons why that fire, that fire should have gone out by now, and nothing but ash should be left. Yet it burned. Us. Them. It was destructive and neither of us even wanted it. But. It's us. Our hearts are old friends, our skin, etched with each other's fingertips.

STORY 5 I'd pick your thunder, I'd pick your rain: over anyone's sunshine any day.