FREE STORY WITH EXCLUSIVE CONTENT. This is *not* a Paid Story. Eighteen-year-old hockey prodigy Elliot Wexler has three goals for senior year. One: somehow graduate with a 3.5 GPA. Two: hide his bipolar disorder from his peers. And three: make it into the NHL with no scandals. Piece of cake. What he doesn't expect is to find Lucy, a homeless girl, hiding from the winter frost in his dad's shed. Elliot's busy, complicated life doesn't permit room for error, and falling in love with a girl from a totally different world sounds like the opposite of a good idea. But Elliot can't help but be drawn to Lucy and her elusive ways--even when she seems to vanish from his life non-stop, each time leaving him with a bigger hole in his heart. But Elliot is determined to break down Lucy's barriers. And when he does, he discovers that her life is more complicated--and dangerous--than he could have imagined. With drafting season approaching, and Elliot's fragile mental health deteriorating, he's forced to face a difficult question: Is first love supposed to hurt so much? *** PLEASE DO NOT ADD THIS STORY TO GOODREADS.

"And when I put on your letterman jacket, I still think about you." When Thea Simmons is tasked with writing an article about basketball hero Faust Carter, the story long buried in rivalry unravels, secrets that should've been hidden are revealed, and a simple letterman jacket turns to be a painful memory. And eighty days is all the time it takes. [cover by @cadetcarswell]

She wasn't that drunk. So the six-foot something creature rummaging through her fridge half-naked, at eight in the morning was real. Now here's the tinsy winsy problem; She lives alone. ------------------------------------------------ Let's just say Catherine Wright wasn't having the best day. Everything just wasn't going well-right. So after a couple of sips of wine, she ended up 'praying' for some kind of distraction instead. Who knew the heavens answered prayers from drunk women. Now Damon Grace would be exactly what she asked for. And a few other things that would make her wish she never drank at all. (p.s. It wouldn't hurt to check the tags this story is on) Copyright © 2015 Liz Martinez All Rights Reserved

"You look dead." I'm not dead. I'm still alive. Don't look at me. I'm ugly. I need to be perfect. Absolutely perfect.