"So that brings me back to the dream. I was there again, but this time, I was him. Beating some little kid, wasted out of my mind. I think the dream has to do with when I came home from that party, drunk. It scared the hell out of me, Camber. I don't want to be like him." His voice is down to a whisper, tears falling silently. "You aren't like him." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ever since the age of five Camber has been mute. She hasn't talked since that scarring night when her parents were murdered, and she was raped. Now, at the age of fifteen, Camber is still mute. Living in a foster home, all her foster mother would love to do is fix this 'broken girl'. But she can't. No one can. Camber would love to forget, to be normal, but she just can't. Unable to be touched without having a full fledged panic attack, she's tired of doctors poking and prodding at her. She's given up. Until he comes along. He wants to help her with her problems, and fix his own. But no one can fix the unfixable. But, maybe, against all odds, the broken boy can? Book One of the Camber Trilogy.

{This is a finished story} "Vanessa?" A deep voice called out. I turned to face him, quickly wiping away the tears that began. "Yes?" I smiled, holding my head a little higher. Vanessa Keating doesn't cry in front of anyone. She certainly doesn't show weakness. A lanky body was leaned against a gleaming motorcycle. His aphotic hair was mussed onto his head and he took a drag from a cigarette that was wedged in between two of his fingers. A denim jacket sat on top of a white v-neck. Despite how cold it was, that's all he was wearing, besides jeans and shoes. Sunglasses rested on his nose, unable for me to see his inky eyes. "Everything alright?" He called from about ten feet away from me. "Yup. Everything's fine," I lied. He flicked the butt of the cigarette to the concrete, putting it out with his foot. Wasn't he scared he was going to get caught? He was on school grounds.

Andy (Andrea) Ferguson joins an anonymous internet pen-pal site in search of someone to be there with her through a tough time. She immediately becomes friends with Alex (Alexander) Hannon. who is a sixteen year old like herself. After months of emailing, Alex invites Andy over to his house in LA... But there is just one detail that they both forgot to mention to the other. Their Genders! Join Andy and Alex on their hilarious and emotional journey through Summer, paradise or hell? BOTH!

Aria has always laid low in school with her tight-knit group of friends. When she meets Nash at a party, he's rude, he's blunt, and he's got more baggage than he can carry. Aria immediately dislikes him. But the line between hate and love is very thin, and a continuous game of Never Have I Ever may change everything.

Sometimes all you really need is a place to call home. * * * Being re-written completely as of May 14, 2021

"This is the final call for all passengers."

3 years ago, my Step Dad adopted a son. His name was Hunter. For 13 years of his life, Hunter was neglected and abused by his parents. Beaten and raped, Hunter knew nothing good of the world. His Father eventually became a socio-path and shot the Mother. But as he was about to kill Hunter, Police arrived. The Dad shot himself instead. Hunter is now 16 and has been living in my family for 3 years. It's an understatement to say that we don't get along. Hunter is just angry at the world. He drinks and smokes and swears and fights. He kicks me and punches me simply because he's scared. He pushes everyone away. He has flashbacks and nightmares and can't seem to take anymore. Though I know he has reasons for being such an inconsiderate asshole, I still hate him. Our family has now moved to Cyprus. We're only staying for a while, so we just got a small appartment. Bad part about that? It's got 2 rooms. Me and Hunter have to share. At first I hate it. But then over the weeks, I begin to see how broken Hunter Storm really is. He's not just a dick, he's scared. And I'm slowly starting to comfort him through his troubles. We're getting somewhere, but then the worst possible thing happens. But strangley, it's bringing us closer. He's sleeping in my bed, he's crying to me, he's holding my hand. I'm holding him at night, I'm wearing his hoodies, I'm smiling at his touch. Before I even realize it, I'm in love. { Strong Language Throughout! Includes Physical/Sexual Abuse Scenes & Sex Please Don't Read If Bad Language Makes You Cry. But If You Like Hot Emo Boys With Lip Rings, Read Ahead ^.^ }

A Wallflower. That's what Sony Parker was at Riverbank High, and she was content with it. Until one day when she gets in a fight with a new student because he took her 'corner'. Now she and the new kid, Paul, have been forced to join 'Friendship Club'. Don't let the name deceive you, the club is actually for the school's gang members, delinquents, and homicidal students. The club is notorious for students 'vanishing' if they aren't able to protect themselves. Sony is able to survive the club and its psycho members. But then things start to get weird as one by one the delinquents of the club start to want Sony's comfort in their everyday life problems. {(Reverse-Harem)} {(COMPLETED)}

[slow updates] Kyle Collins and Cloelia (preferably be called Clo) Bennett have been best friends ever since Kyle gave Clo a purple crayon in kindergarten. And just like any girl and guy that ended up as best friends, Kyle falls in love with her in their sophomore year. But Kyle never confessed to Clo, afraid of being rejected and worse of all, afraid to end their friendship. Before Kyle can change his mind, he lost his chance when something tragically happened to Clo. Told in Kyle's point of view, this book unfolds the love story between Kyle and Clo, starting all the way back in their childhood.

Fifteen years. The number of normal every-day life. One day. The number of time when my life suddenly took a 180. 8000. The number of miles I was taken away from my home. Two. The number of parents I will never see again, Two weeks. The number of weeks I lived with kidnappers, rapists, and murderers. Three times. The number of times I lost my innocence to three different men. Four months. The number of months I lived a semi-normal but hectic life with practically strangers. Two. The number of children I carried Two. The number of times I was kidnapped. One week. The number of weeks I was held hostage. Thirty. The number of times I probably passed out or fainted. One hundred plus. The number of times I cried and felt sorry for myself. Six months. The number of months I waited until I got to see my children. Thirty seconds. The number of seconds it took before my life fully crumbled before my very eyes. A moment. How long it took for it all to start over again. Save Them, Please? *Sequel to 'Help Me, Please?*