Catherine Biggs is a storm. Inheriting her mother's sharp tongue, she uses anger to mask a mind that became too loud. Now, she is dragged to Upper East, Ballylagging, to tame the fire inside her. Mary Feely is a silent war. Carrying her mother's gentle heart and her own faith, she hides her secret truths behind acoustic strings. Until Catherine storms in. Forced into the same house, the same room, and the same bed, Mary's soft nature clashes with Catherine's biting defense mechanisms. Catherine paints her anger. Mary sings her songs. But while Catherine fights the world, Mary is fighting her own conscience, and the fact that she is completely obsessed with the girl sharing her bed.

❝ I looked at her once and forgot how to look away. ❞ • ୨💌୧ 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 . . . Liahla Lynch X Chris Holland BOOK TWO OF THE HAUNTED PHANTOMS OF TOMMEN

Once upon a time, Rian Lynch was just... Rian. The lad who'd steal chips off my plate and swear they tasted better because they weren't his. The one who'd knock on our front door without texting first because apparently that was "more dramatic." Then Liam died. People say grief comes in waves. They're wrong. It crashes into you all at once and leaves bits of you scattered everywhere, and you spend the rest of your life trying to gather them back together. Rian changed. The smile disappeared first. Then the jokes. Then the way he'd look at me like I mattered. Now he looks through me as if I'm just another stranger walking past. I know he blames my family. I know he blames me, even if he never says the words. The awful part is I don't think there's anything I could ever say that would make him believe otherwise. Sometimes I still catch myself looking for him in crowds. Sometimes I still hear something funny and think, God, Rian would love that. Then I remember. Grief made him angry. It made me quiet. I used to believe love fixed things. Now I think sometimes love just gives you another thing to grieve. *** Rylie O'Neill. Used to be the girl who could make me laugh even when I was in the foulest humour imaginable. She'd ramble on about stars, flowers, films that'd make anyone else cry, and somehow I'd sit there listening like every word mattered. Maybe because they did. She was too soft for this world. Always seeing the best in people, even when they gave her every reason not to. She believed everyone deserved another chance. I always thought she'd end up getting her heart broken because of it. Looks like I was right. There was a time when I thought she'd always be beside me. Truth is... there was a time I was starting to want more than that. Never said anything. Didn't need to. Then Liam died. And everything after that stopped making sense. People keep saying it wasn't the O'Neills' fault. Maybe it wasn't. Doesn't matter.

Conor Kavanagh. The heartthrob of Tommen College. The biggest playboy in the school - cocky smirk, rugby jersey practically sewn onto him, always with a smart comment and that maddening wink. He's friendly, charming, flirty as hell. The kind of lad who'd carry your bag for you and somehow make it seem like your idea. But don't let that fool you - he's trouble. All sharp jawlines and swagger. And somehow, he's decided I'm his next bloody charity case. I hate it. I hate how he shows up when I don't ask, how he looks at me like I'm breakable. I don't need saving - I've got it sorted. The drink, the pills, the temper - all of it. My mess, not his. And every time I tell him to back off, to leave me be, he just gets closer, like I'm speaking in code. I don't need his pity or his perfect face. I don't need him. So why does part of me keep hoping he'll show up again tomorrow? *** Sinead Biggs. The reigning queen of Tommen. Sharp-tongued, sharp-eyed, and terrifying in heels. Everyone thinks she's just Cath's little sister - until she opens her gob and makes half the school cry before lunch. She walks those halls like she owns them, and honestly? She kind of does. The lads are scared of her. The girls want to be her. And me? I'm hopelessly, pathetically into her. Everyone knows it. My mates won't shut up about it. Even when she's tearing strips off me with that mouth of hers, I'm there grinning like a gobshite. Because deep down, I remember. I remember when we used to be best friends. When she used to laugh like a lunatic at my stupid jokes, when her hand would brush mine and neither of us would move away. But then came Owen Rice - the prick. Then came that night. The accident. The hospital. And when she came back, she wasn't the same. She'd built up walls with barbed wire. She'd become someone colder, louder, crueler. But I still see her. The girl I knew. And every once in a while, when no one's looking, I think she sees me too.

Peter Biggs, Astrid's white knight. He was always there when she needed him, which was a lot when they were growing up in a world that never seemed to give her a fair chance. Peter was the one constant. Steady. Loyal. Hers. Now, Astrid Feely is the girl no one believes. The one they whisper about in corridors and in cafés, saying she made it all up - the lies, the accusations, the story that ruined someone half of Ballylaggin adored. But Astrid knows her truth. She lived it. And Peter? He's caught between the girl he's always protected and the world that's already chosen its side. Sometimes the white knight can't save the girl. Sometimes, he has to believe her.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝟲 a story about Violetta Holland, Rory Kavangah, Emery Gibson, Declan Gibson, Holly Biggs, and Mateo Feely **second generation

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 Mallory Lynch is a beauty with a wicked tongue-she has an uncontrollable attitude, and is not afraid to speak her mind. Many see her as just a pretty face, expect Dante Holland. Dante Holland, a young delinquent-sees Mallory for who she truly is, her real self. Together, they are fire and ice. Meeting at a young age, both Dante and Mallory knew one thing. They would never work... Or would they?