Autumn Pierce. That awkward girl from Holmes Chapel. Harry Styles. That equally awkward/famous guy from Holmes Chapel who has a mutual hate toward that girl from Holmes Chapel. A summer can really change everything. And I mean, everything.

Felicity may not have a dashing boyfriend, a glamorous job, or oodles of cash but what she does have, is the home of her dreams. That is, until she meets her neighbour, Thomas Bond. Obnoxious, infuriating and hell bent on making her life a misery, he's the rudest, crudest assh**e she has ever met. Now is the time for Felicity to take control of her life. To fight back stroke for stroke, because home is where the heart is. Right?

What would you do if the guy you were going to marry ran away during the day of your wedding? You'd run after him and kill him, right? But I didn't. Instead, I sulked around and blamed myself. And now that he's back, I did the only thing I thought was right. I pretended that I had amnesia and pretended that I forgot him.

I killed my daddy. Twitter: @Atlantis094 Cover art @halcyontimes

***Warning: Scenes of a VIOLENT and SEXUAL content*** His hands were reddened by the blood he shed. His name was blackened by his town's harsh labels. But his heart was pure. And his heart was hidden safely under his leather armor, the armor she helped pry off him. Twitter: @Atlantis094 Cover image: @halcyon All Rights Reserved © 2013

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...

Rachel Paxton is no angel. She's the exact opposite. The young actress is known throughout the United States as America's Rebel, and she loves to flaunt the title. And to better her career, she claims that she can't stand One Direction, but mostly the British pop singer and teen heartthrob, Harry Styles. When she makes her thoughts about Harry public, her Uncle Simon, also the boys' manager, intervenes. To make Rachel change her ways and convince the world that she is completely in love with One Direction, he makes her and Harry date for publicity. Simon claims that it will help both of them in their careers, but the two just think it's a complete joke. In the end, will the two teenagers carry the romance beyond the flashing lights of the cameras?

The Boxer Sequel - In the ring a fighter is only focused on one thing. Winning. But this boxer has got more than one ring and more than one goal to think about.

"Stop being so innocent! It's boring." Harry mocked me. "And how am I supposed to do that?" All playfulness from his face has disappeared. "Let me teach you." At first, my thought was no. An immediate no. I've known Harry my whole life, this would be weird, but i'm tired of being mocked about my innocence. "Fine..." I whispered crossing my arms across my chest. My foot began tapping, a habit I picked up from my mother. "I'll do it, but you can't tell anyone." My finger pointing at him like a mother would do scolding a child. "No one has to know. Not a soul." He leaned further into me, forcefully gripping my hips pushing me against his bedroom wall.