❝This is a why her, why not me story.❞ All rights reserved @ o p t i c a l i t y | 2017

❝She was my dream girl − but I knew eventually I had to wake up.❞ Sequel to, u n r e q u i t e d All rights reserved @ o p t i c a l i t y | 2017

DISCLAIMER: This story is completed, however it is unedited. I wrote this story when I was very young, and it is reflected in the work. If you are looking for the edited version of Love, Emma as seen on my Instagram or Facebook, this is NOT it. . . . . . . . . . . "E-Emma? It's okay y-you know. I-I'm used to i-i-it." "You shouldn't have to be, some people disgust me, the nerve of them." "I can't blame t-t-th-them, I m-mean l-l-l-look at m-me." He sounds so defeated, even though I can tell he's trying to hide it, so hurt and broken and utterly defeated. And that, to me, is absolutely heartbreaking. Whipping around, he bumps into me, clearly not expecting my abrupt stop. "I am looking at you, and you're beautiful Nathan Walker, beautiful." There's tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat the size of a basketball, and my eyes are burning, and my heart hurts but it's so fast, pounding a beat against my chest---because he should know. People like Nathan deserve to be told how unequivocally, unconditionally, completely beautiful they are. . . . . . . . . . . Emma Dawn is a sixteen year old girl in the big city of Toronto who befriends her school's social pariah, Nathan Walker. Outcast for his looks, Nathan's a very quiet, very gentle, giant, but everything's not that simple; the tough guy one might assume him to be is nothing like what he actually is, not with his stutter, continuous insecurities, and his social anxiety. While their friendship develops, both at school and at his families Italian-style Cafe, Emma slowly starts to tear down his walls, finding herself deeply caring for the boy she finds behind them---a boy so caught up in his life's worth of ridicule, he has no idea of how beautiful he is. Read on into the story of Emma and Nathan, where she helps him come to terms with his anxiety, breaks his insecurities, and every other social standard set to define something beautiful. . . . . . . . . . .

*Completed* "I just want to know why." I say as I turn over, trying to find his figure through the dark of my room. "Why what?" He asks. "Why you're being so nice to me." I say quietly, vulnerability seeping into my words. "How we even became friends." He sighs, "I want to know how." I scrunch my brow. "How what?" His response is soft, the opposite of his sarcastic personality. "How you don't see it." ******* Reagan Holt was about as average as a high school student could be. She didn't play any sports, didn't participate in the popular activities, and wasn't the girl all the boys chased after. All except one boy. He wrote her a letter every week. Each letter described something new for him to love about her. Whether it was how beautiful her laugh was or how his heart swelled with every smile she gave, he never failed to write how he felt. So the two should be together, right? That's the way Reagan wants it, but there's just one problem. He signs his letters "Love, Anonymous." Now add an obnoxious, conceited, sex god into the equation and you get a teenage girl confused on who really loves her. The sweet, tender written anonymous lover, or the cocky, ignorant asshole? -REVIEWS- "You create such wonderful characters and I can't wait to see what happens next!" VampireSa5m41993 "Thank you for wonderful dogs and little brothers and eccentrically hormonal best friends!" -Nat-Attack "I am totally hooked on this book!" nbazinet "I love the way the story flows and that you have really roundabout characters. It's as if they're real while I'm reading!" life_is_beautiful115 "Your work is literally art." lemonsun123 "Every time I read this book it just makes me smile." Nicooole97 Cover by: -winterr

He was the prince who got away. He had it all - power, fame, glory, honor. (Did I mention the unlimited supply of money, alcohol and women?) Yet he chose the human world. She wasn't shy, quiet or even remotely sweet. She wasn't your girl next door and she certainly was not a princess. When Victoria is hired to kill a mysterious stranger, she didn't know she was dealing with royalty. Of the immortal kind. Their worlds are about to get intertwined in a way neither could've foreseen. Welcome to a place where pretences are everything and everyone lies to get what they want. There will be scandals. Conspiracies. Betrayal. Love. Vampires, angels, magic and smoking hot men. And of course, a whole lot of "What the hell just happened?" *** Current ranking - #1 on Fantasy Wattpad Featured book Fiction Award Winner 2017 Completed

❝ a.m. was their time. they liked to rule the dark.❞ *** he was black, painted on white, i was red, with a hint of pink, he wrote stories on my skin, with grey, unerasable ink. *** Lowercase intended for stylistic purposes. Summary inside.Completed. Cover credits to @Zayn_Imagines. #ProjectBadBoys ♠ My original work. All rights are reserved. ♠

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

❝My Autumn, I think you should know that you're my first and only love. Don't you ever forget that. Love always, August❞ After a series of unfortunate events, August is admitted into a hospital. Once he realizes his stay will be longer than expected, he begins writing to Autumn, hoping that at least one person in the world will care. [Highest Rank: #35 in Short Story] [Watty Award Winner 2015 for JustWriteIt!]

❝for I am nothing but a statue watching you come and go.❞ she refuses to let go of him, he refuses to know of her existence

"Close your eyes." he croaked, I did as I was told without any disobedience. "Have you any idea how badly I want to kiss you right now?" I shook my head in reply. "Badly, so fucking badly." he whispered as his harsh breath fanned across my cheek. Dark haired and tattooed, Xavier looked like the ultimate bad boy...but weren't bad boys meant to have that boyish charm? The thing is, Xavier was extremely guarded, hot headed and quite frankly, scary. In fact, Xavier was many things but romantic and loving wasn't two of them. He was a building half built, a puzzle with half of the pieces missing... Until he met me. Warning: Bad language (lots of). A possessive delinquent that is guaranteed to make you smile (or cry.)