A honeymoon gone wrong, with no place to escape, no place to run, no place to hide and most importantly with no place for love. Story about a psychotic husband who now wants revenge because his own wife betrayed him. Ethan lost his mind when his wife reveals a dirty little secret, now the wall between sanity and insanity has been dropped. Now the same man who vowed to protect his wife forever is after her life. After all what marriage is all about if not struggle. "Scream all you want I will have my sweet revenge. Don't you dare worry my dear wife After all you are my perfect bride."

Madi's slumber party is suddenly terrorized by a harmless dare.

Fanfiction based on the History Channels Hatfields and McCoys. [Book is a rough draft - needs heavy editing] Chyna is a young ex-slave girl, she had been property of the McCoy's but now that the Civil war has ended she is free to go. After another night of Tolbert and Calvin McCoy taking her forcefully in the night, Chyna flees from the McCoy boys, they chase her across the river, to Ellison and his son Cotton. Confederate as they are, neither can turn a cold heart to the beaten ebony girl as the McCoy boys send their hunting dogs across the river after her. Elisson runs the Boys off and takes Chyna back to his families land. Chyna is made to take care and keep watch over Cotton while Ellison is away, and she is happy to do so, as she is grateful to both. but in this time, she catches the eye of William 'Cap' Hatfield and against their better judgement, they will follow their hearts in the middle of a war.

I hear hounds barking in the distance. They better not find where I hide. I am not going back to that retched place. Not ever again. The scars on my back say so. They are getting closer. I either have to run for it or trust that the hounds won't smell me. A twig snaps under a foot about ten yards away. I grab a small rock and throw with all my might to the left of where I hide. There is a light thunk, but it is enough. The dogs ears perk up and start sniffing in the direction of my pebble. I throw another small rock in the same direction. I hit a tree. A squirrel darts down the trunk a through the brush. The dogs take on the chase. The dogs owners, which call themselves bounty hunters, chase after the dogs. I make a run for it. I feel a hand grip my wrist and another hand stifle my scream.