Fín is a word from the Italian, French and Spanish language which means "The End" All rights reserved, 2017 © jkharrystyles {Accomplishments} #143 in fan fiction (3/15/17)

{sequel to Secret} All rights reserved, 2017 © jkharrystyles

"I don't want my sister to know." I say to Harry as his fingers play with mine. "She's your best friend and practically hates me." "It will be our secret." He smiles gently. // Contains mature content read at own risk All rights reserved, 2016 © jkharrystyles

All rights reserved, 2017 © jkharrystyles Ranked: 663 in fanfiction

"I'll let you go tonight, Amore, despite your lies. I've decided to stay in town for a while longer so I am...positive that we'll be together again. Goodnight, Adrienne." Suddenly he let me go. I wobbled a bit before regaining balance and walked away from him. Right as I made it to the entrance, something possessed me to look back at him-one final time. He watched me go with a mischievous smirk. When we made eye contact, he shot me a wink before sitting at the bar. He was right. This won't be the last time I see the Devil reincarnated Christian. --------

| 18+ | Damian looked so different with his shirt off and a crop in his hand. He felt more real: no longer wearing the mask of the good doctor, he was the Exorcist, the master over my wildest fears, the stones on the shore over which my ocean of madness could crash without fear. He trailed the crop over my throat, down my chest. "Your demons have not been playing nicely," he said, a warning in his tone. Goosebumps prickled up my arms as the smooth leather teased over my navel. "No, sir. They haven't. They don't much like you." He grinned, and it was such a wicked sight that my stomach clenched up with desire. I desperately wanted to feel those teeth, the softness of those lips. Patience was nearly impossible. "I must admit I don't much like them either," he growled. "Turn around. Hands on the wall. Spread your legs." I obeyed, my breath catching in my throat. I felt him lean close, his breath hot on my neck as he left kisses along my hairline. "But they don't own your body, do they, darling? Who owns this body?" "I do, sir." My breathing shuddered. The crop tapped between my thighs. "That's right. And who have you chosen to give your body to?" "To you, sir." × × × 18 year old Samara Garfield is on the run - from her past, from her desires, from the wicked voices in her head. Everything seems to be catching up with her when she meets Damian Hearst, a doctor with perverted desires of his own. With a legion of demonic beings eager to overtake her, the good doctor may indeed be the only one who can save her. But as their dark pasts become ever more entangled and hope for salvation begins to fade, can love grow in the face of death? × Highest Rankings × #1 in Steampunk #1 in Kinky #40 in Horror

"Time is up, I AM CLAIMING WHAT IS MINE!" His voiced shattered throughout the entire tower. He has found me and claiming what is his; me. "Sire please, she not even 21 yet. Please let her stay for the year!" My father pleaded for my life but it was no use. I belong to him. Silence crept through the house before loud banging from large footsteps crept from the staircase. The pleading did not work. He was coming for me. .... BOOM! The large sealed oak door broke down with a simple kick from the notorious beast. I ran to the corner for protection but to no avail. He was taking me to my new life. ------------ My destiny was written before I existed. My family bloodline held much respect throughout generations, we were a perfect fit to be married off to the Vincenzo family. The largest mafia group to rule all of Europe and parts of America. They controlled everything since the beginning of time. So when my ancestor agreed to marry off his 8th grandchild off to the leader of the Vincenzo clan; it was a victory for the family. I am the 8th grandchild. My life now belongs to the Vincenzo clan.

Melissa Crawford thinks she's just a regular teenage girl. She goes to school. She has friends, boy problems, homework...you know, the typical teenage angst. But she couldn't be more wrong, for Melissa Crawford is not a mortal. Her adoptive mortal mother refused to give her up and hired a witch to erase the enchanting Faery child's memory, not realizing that things aren't that simple. You see, when she was a little girl, Melissa promised herself forever to her Leannan Sidhe (mate), a Fae Prince, and a promise to Fae is sacred. When the Fae Prince comes back to claim what's his, nothing will get in his way. "Mortals are so arrogant. So utterly narcissistic to think that they are the only intelligence in this world, to believe their realm is the only realm, their way is the only way. "Many of you believe us fairies only exist in little kids' fairy tales. We are so much more than that. We exist, living in the Realm just a blink away from yours. A few wrong turns in the park or the forest and you're there. We sometimes walk among you, and you're not even aware of it. Believe me, we exist. Across the globe, your kind calls us and our realm by different names...but as William Shakespeare once said- a rose by any other name..."