Faith Mitchell was never confident. She was happy to blend into the background, much to the protest of her friends. At 16, her life was a normal teenage cliche. She was in love with Jace, the obnoxious player who she couldn't have, and her biggest worry was whether or not he would finally come to his senses and see that she really was the one for him. That is until she is kidnapped and recruited by a secret agency of assassins. She is torn away from her normal teenage life and thrown into a world of guns, knifes and criminals. The agency mold her into the perfect killing machine, and at 19 she is no longer the shy girl that was snatched away from her uncomplicated life, but a ruthless killer who will stop at nothing to complete whatever mission she is on. Then, the agency has a new mission which involves Faith returning to her hometown, and facing her friends, family and the very boy who broke her heart just before it turned into stone. What will happen once Faith comes face to face with Jace? Will the obnoxious player be able to reach out and get the old Faith back without pressing any of her wrong buttons, considering that the shy girl he once knew now has a gun. (WATTY AWARDS 2011) (THE FICTION AWARDS 2017) ©makeandoffer

"Before I show you who I am, I want you to remember what you're fighting for," Aide replied cautiously and gave them all a piercing stare. "Keep an open mind." "Just tell us, lad," Hanke snarled impatiently and bobbed his sword. "Brace yourselves," Aide said as he slowly reached for his hood. Emaia's heart pounded vigorously in her chest, so loudly, she feared people could hear. This was it. She would finally see the face of her rescuer, the face she had so longed to see. Aide gave them all one last lingering look before he closed his eyes. "Your whole world is about to change." He punctuated his sentence by pulling off his hood. The entire crowd gasped and all readied their weapons, as long silver hair burst free from the cloak and long slender ears appeared. It was impossible, Emaia thought. They had been extinct for decades. But there was no denying it. She looked at the man who had rescued her a few nights ago, and remembered him as charming and valiant. It all made so much sense now-why he could do, what he could do. He was an elf. And not just any elf. - A Northern Elf.

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.