Holly's new, young teacher has a dark past, and a dangerous future. She soon finds herself charmed by his ways, and gets thrown into the chaos. Who knew having an ex-gangster for a teacher could be so troublesome? As Holly and Mr. Heywood grow closer, more questions about his past come upon Holly, as does danger. What is Mr. Heywood keeping from Holly? And why is it so bad? But most importantly, if she falls for him, could their relationship survive? After all... it would be a proscriptive relationship.

Kennedy (Kenna) isn't known for her beauty. She's never been complimented on her appearance unless being called beautiful by your family counts, and to Kenna- it doesn't. Sick of being ignored because of her looks, Kennedy gives herself a makeover but it isn't very successful. After encountering a crying Marissa Rivers on the behalf of her obnoxious brother, Noah, she becomes acquaintances with the girl. After a chat about Kenna's failed efforts at makeup and how she's a nondrinker, she offers Kenna the help of her and her friends. Kenna graciously agrees but there's a catch. Kenna will have to be the girls' designated driver to the next few parties that they want to attend until she can do her own makeup which may take a while but what happens when Kenna accidentally gets drunk at one of the parties and Noah has to bring her and the other girls back to their home? She gets involved in a lot more than she planned. And it seems as if all she wanted was to become beautiful.

Yes, I lost my father and he was the best man in the whole world. Yes, I have a stepmother who is a witch and whom I hate most passionately. Yes, I have two stepsisters that are a pain in my arse and who lost their brains when they were little. Yes, my life is like a cliché from a bloody fairy tale, but you know what is missing? The fucking Prince Charming! And where is he? Nowhere to be found! Probably he's dancing in his palace with a stupid and empty-headed Barbie. Arsehole. Who needs him, anyways? Certainly, not me. I'm almost Cinderella, but you can call me Ella. BOOK #1 in the Aware Princess Series flower: Gladiolus, t symbolises "Strength of character, honour, conviction."

"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."

What would you do if your best friend committed suicide? What would you do if there was no way that you could help them? All there is left, is 199 letters. The only thing they left behind for you. © 2014, Ashley (larrystyIinson), All rights reserved

{C O M P L E T E D} "I like the curly haired one. Harry." Presley Davis had no idea that sentence would change her life. She had gotten famous over a YouTube video she did as a dare. Now shes making many videos and has a lot of fans. But what she doesn't know is that shes got her own stalker. Harry Styles. What will happen when these two cross paths? {Undergoing major editing}

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...