❝ What do you think I should do Holland? Please tell me what to do? I plead desperately my mind reeling with anxiety. There's a long pause before she answers, I think you should kill him Sweden. I think you should kill Australia.❞ What happens when you have voice in your head and you have inexplicably named her Holland? She governs your life, dictates what you eat, how you dress, who you hang out and most importantly who you date? Well for Sweden this is a real reality as she cannot seem to get Holland out of her head. After breaking up with her one true love Australia due to Holland's impenetrable hatred towards him, she ends up going out with Japan who Holland hand picked for her. Don't get it wrong, Sweden loves Japan but not as much as she loves Australia. What happens when you suddenly want to break free of that voice that dictates your life especially the relationships with the ones you love? What happens when Holland deems the only way to make things better is to murder the one thing you love? What happens when you say no? What happens if you say yes? Trailer by the awesome @IAmChasingMavericks

When Dante, a young 23 year old aspiring photographer, gets hit by a black Rolls Royce and is taken to A&E for emergency surgery on his fractured leg, he doesn't expect to wake up the next morning to a note of apology from the cold heart throbbing Eliana M. Van Gosvan and a bouquet of Calla Lilies. Curious, he awaits patiently for her to return to the hospital but when she doesn't show up, he shrugs his shoulders and is released from hospital a month later to find a shiny Rolls Royce awaiting for his exit. The suspicion and curiosity becomes too much and Dante gets into the Rolls Royce only too late realising that he's been soaked into the dangerous, lustful, passion filled, enigmatic world of the one and only Eliana Gosvan.... 05/11/14 = Short Story #110 16/10/14 = Romance #419 Cover by @TheMysteriousOne_ ♡ WARNING CONTAINS SOME SEXUAL CONTENT ♡

"Promise me this one thing - don't fall in love with me." I only knew his name. Not his story. But he knew mine. And he made sure he took a part of my life, my story, when he left.