Brooke Rosen is running from a monster. But she doesn't expect to run right into the hands of another one - a rogue called Dimitri Volkov who will do anything for her, even if it means killing the man she once loved. All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2016 by Noelle N. Cover by @stereohearted.

There's only one thing Colin hates more than Sadie-- Seeing Sadie cry.

Violet falls infatuated with a man by the stage name of Styles. He wears black jeans and battered boots always, rotating between t-shirts and frilly shirts. He has the unsteadiest of hands, for he puts everything he has into hitting the high notes and less into breathing. He is the embodiment of everything a singer should be; beautiful, captivating. Within the walls of his home, away from Club 102, Harry struggles to get by. He is broken, all shaky hands and fingertips stained blue from too many nights spent in the shower, clutching at soaked denim. He is but the shadow of a man that used to be, and never would be again. Violet falls in love with a man by the name of Harry Styles. It is undeniable; he loves her. But it isn't enough. Cover by: @milkystyles

❝Why do you look so dead?❞ The love story between life and death.

(on going) One decision changed her life for the worse, but another decision may have turned it around. cover: calamities-

“The torture of a bad conscience is the hell of a living soul.” ― John Calvin

Every story needs a catalyst. For Wren Jamison, it was Walter Quinn. * * * * * Catalyst. Science will tell you it's a substance that speeds up change. So I looked forward to the day I would stop being a sleeping in, semi-seriously homeschooled, number one Dave Franco fan girl. But I never thought that day would come so soon, so quickly – and I never figured that Italian sports cars, designer clothes and an army of girls ready to claw my eyes out would come with it. And what exactly did I need to do to turn from a completely nutty nobody to the kind of person everyone kept their eye on? Simple. Just Add Walter. Copyright © 2014 CrayonChomper

“Do you know Lilith’s story?” he asked me, leaning over the counter, his strange silver eyes gleaming in the orange afternoon glow that filled the empty library, filtering through the huge bay windows. “No,” I said, and even though the air was far from cold, a chill crept down my spine. Something about his eyes, his posture, and the way he looked at me made me very uncomfortable. “She was the first woman created by God. She was made of soil, just like Adam… She was his equal. Not like Eve…” he stopped then, eyes lost somewhere beyond me. “She disrespected Adam and God and finally ended up being cast out of Eden, cursed and forgotten by all. Do you know what her curse was?” “No,” I breathed. My instinct was telling me that something was very, very wrong. It was telling me to run, but I was petrified, unable to move. “She and her descendants would never know Paradise… They would be condemned to walk the earth forever. Every time they died, they would come back as another person, and they would carry the weight of Lilith’s sin for all of eternity…" She was the one thing he needed most. He was the one thing she should have ran away from. There is only one way for a son of Lilith to stop the unending cycle of life. A soul for a soul. A life for a life.

Because umbrellas are reliable, and reliable (unlike the capricious, loud, and volatile Aspen McKinley) is just what Hudson Parks likes.