Motel 6- where you may find cockroaches in the showers, questionable food in the vending machine, and maybe, possibly, some love along the way. © Copyright 2017. All rights reserved. This material may not be reproduced, displayed, modified or distributed without the express prior written permission of the copyright holder. For permission, contact _HakunaMatata_ on Wattpad.com.

"Our deal was 19." Harry whispers, brushing our noes in bit of a playful manner. His dimples deepening from either side as a fair giggle left my mouth. "I'm yours."

"I'll kiss you here," Harry said pointing to Alicia's lips and then his finger trailing down her neck. Harry saw her close her eyes and he couldn't help but smirk. She was just too innocent. "And then...." she breathes. "And then...." Harry hums and presses his body against hers. "I will do this." Harry puts both his hands in her hair and crashes their lips together. After several seconds he pulls back, gives himself a head shake and smiles at his student. "Thats it for now." With that Harry strides away from her, but that wouldn't be the last time.

***WARNING: OF VIOLENT AND SEXUAL NATURE*** ***THIS BOOK IS UNDER EDITING. PLEASE CONSIDER THIS WHILE READING, THANK YOU** ❝I think violence in a cinematic context can be, if handled in a certain way, very..seductive.❞ I was innocent, way too innocent in a way that allowed people to screw me over. Including the flithy rich pricks that I called my parents. I didn't have any edge or charisma to my walk, and that's something I was told a lot. Then there was the troubled boy, Harry Styles, who stared into your soul, just because he could. Him, he had charisma, and the edge, and everything that I wanted. And I wanted him to teach me. Give me intensive, heated lessons. Sex lessons. o r i g i n a l ↬ Watch TRAILER before READING ↫ Credits for trailer: SOCKMONKEY7707 ©Floz__

DISCLAIMER: This story was written in late 2012. I wrote Strings Attached as an adolescent with no idea how a healthy, adult relationship should function. This story is dark and twisted in a way that my teen mind couldn't comprehend at the time. There are more than a few scenes in this book with sensitive content. I--in no way--support rape culture and I do not condone my character's actions. However, as I said, this story was written in an ignorant state of mind. I will not remove this story from Wattpad. It is part of my past and though I am disappointed with the content, it shows how far I've come not just as an author but as a free-thinking adult. Thank you for reading. **Excerpt** "Say... it," She gasped, throwing her head back, cupping my face in her hands so that I was forced to meet her gaze. "You're mine." She held my gaze for a second more, before crushing her lips against my own, arms wrapping tight around my neck, pulling me down to her level. Arms sliding easily around her, she wrapped her legs around me as I lifted her up, lips traveling over her chest and collarbone. She moaned as my hands dug into her tender flesh, pulling on it, their violence a stark contrast to the gentle kisses teasing their way up her neck. Bright lines marked the paths that my nails had etched into her skin, marking her, beautiful red tattoos, spreading out over her entire body. Her small hands knotted in my hair, pulling harder and harder as she fought the urge to cry out...

*Written in 2014* Book One in the Darien Grace Chronicles He was my siren song and all other melodies just seemed to pale in comparison.

Harry is the new kid in school that everyone fears. His mysterious ways intrigued Kaylin. But, her friend always reminded her of how dangerous he is. He's the bad boy with tattoos. What good can come from that?

[I wrote this at the beginning of 2013 and I was just starting to get settled with the techniques in writing. No worries, I've exceedingly improved far after finishing this story.] Niall Horan was a famous boxer. He was only inlove with boxing, nothing else. That is, one night, before his match, Olivia somehow stumbles her way into meeting him. But, not the way she would have wanted to. No one could steal his heart. No one but . . . her.