Beth Stevens had visited River Moss Plantation when she was nineteen on a fact-finding mission. There she met Wyatt Ramsey of the River Moss Plantation Ramseys. They had been trapped together overnight, a night that had ended in a kiss. It was a kiss that had haunted Beth for over five years. Now, she was back at River Moss Plantation as the historical researcher for her uncle, Mason Stevens's, new movie. Would she meet Wyatt again? Would he remember her and their kiss when she had her beautiful movie star sister, Mave, and family friend Katherine stealing the limelight?

"Darling, this is Paris. If you don't find love here, you won't find love anywhere."

❝I have never been myself as much as I have with you and all these words.❞ A beginner's attempt at poetry, exploring a few different forms and voices while trying to convey loss and beauty. Organized alphabetically, so feel free to read in whatever order you like. Sept. 2013-June 2014 "eye of twilight" from Jan. 2016

An old piano, a guitar named Nigel, a run away girl and a flame haired singer/songwriter meet unexpectedly in a music shop one chilly December evening.

guardian angel (guard - i - an) (an - gel) noun. i. an angel believed to protect a certain person, from danger or error ii. a person who looks after, or is concerned with the welfare of another cover credit: wasema

A dialogue short story about the things we wake up to that remind us there are still things in this life worth waking up for. ante meridiem - [adv. & adj.] "before noon;" Abbr: A.M. Or a.m. [credit to owner of image (not me)]

She never thought their strong bond would end. She never thought she'd lose her love.

When they first meet, Niall's a bit irritated and Josephine can hardly complete one sentence without stuttering.

It's basic. It's cliché. All because sometimes we need a cute little story where everything turns out perfect.

"Sometimes happiness feels like a chore." A short story chronicling the relationships (and lack thereof) of Drew; in which nights and days are spent curled up in the tear-and-food-stained sheets, with and without the warmth of another living soul, because he has lived like this and he'll probably die like this -- whether he likes it or not. (As if life ever bothered to ask). Otherwise known as: Sleep is for the weak, and love is for those asleep. So Andrew shouldn't wonder why he's virtually a self-induced insomniac who might just very well die of loneliness one day.