*Story Contains Mature and Explicit Content* [COMPLETED] "Strangers in the dark can change your life in the light." "As I reach the front door I can't help the same question swimming around in my mind, what could possibly be on all of those tapes?" ----- Preview: "You wanna try and be my medicine Abby?" he asks with a deep testing tone, keeping his voice quiet. "I can try" I breathe out as I gulp when his grip tightens "Try me" His hand slides up my throat, his long fingers wrapping tight around my jaw "That's what you really want?" I nod, as I sigh out a shallow yes, and I see every muscle in his body tense, as he wets his lips; hoarsely murmuring his next sentence like its his last try at making me change my mind. "I'm dangerous Abby, this is your last chance, tried to warn you" My stomach twists and knots, as I use every ounce of bravery I have. "Prove it then" ----- Book Started : DEC 2018 - COMPLETED MAY 2019

"It's just another bump in the road. Don't know why the fuck our road is so bumpy, but lucky for us, we're very good drivers. ...Don't ask Taylor that, though." --- Emma Wiley moved to Homes Chapel when she was just 12. She met Harry Styles and they became incredibly close and grew up together. They lost connection after Harry became famous. What happens when they suddenly meet again? *** Highest rankings: #1 in harrystyles #1 in childhoodfriends #1 in americangirl #5 in songwriting FINISHED *SOME MATURE CONTENT AND VULGAR LANGUAGE* read at your own risk.. ***

Sequel to American girl. --- Harry has a daughter with Camille, but what happens when Emma starts to become more of a mother figure to Celeste than Camille? And what happens if Harry and Emma can't swallow down these old feelings? --- FINISHED!! *MATURE CONTENT AND VULGAR LANGUAGE* read at your own risk...

We're all mad here, it's Wonderland. ~ Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth. "I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning to the surrounding world. "Of course, I've gone a little mad." He flips me around as the level of infuriation rises throughout his clenched jaw, trying to remain composed. "Don't try and be something you're not, Presley." I rip away from his hold, furrowing my brows from the curt statement, the honest revelation that should've just stayed within his mind. "We'll never be the heroes, and you know that," he says, colder than the Arctic's towering waves. "We'll never win." We'll never find Purple. Purple, the color of the Star-Crossed Lovers.