*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

Roots from the trees go deep within the soil of the earth. Roots within us grow deep within our soul, linking us to our family, our hopes, our dreams.. Our roots lead us to our start.. they lead us to our heart. Sterling King is a girl with deep roots, and long branches that lead to nothing. Harry Styles is a boy with bright leaves, and ever growing colors. EXCERPT: "Hi." "Um... hi." "What's your name?" "Sterling...." "Well... Aren't you going to ask me what mine is?" "No...Why would I do that?" "Because I'm a stranger peaking over the fence... I thought you'd be curious." "Well I'm a stranger sitting in a tree house... I stopped being curious a long time ago. Curiosity brings nothing but trouble." "Well I'm Harry... and I'm curious about you Sterling..." "Well... stop." -------------------------- DO NOT PRINT MY WORK!!! "Roots are not in landscape or a country, or a people, they are inside you." - Isabel Allende • TW: mentions of death, and rape/sexual assault. PTSD.

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.

Alexis chose the summer of 1996 to visit her Nonna in small, poorly known Clarkesville, Georgia. This year happens to be her favorite. Because a certain guy with ripped flannels, loose thick curls, and piercing green eyes won not only his thrilling illegal drag-races, but won the best trophy of them all. Her heart. [will contain mature content and much, much fluff]

"You said, no you sang, you sang that everything was gonna be alright. You said that we'll be alright, Harry. But did you mean that?" Where Belle Olivia Granger encounters five young boys who happen to be in the biggest boyband on the planet, and she can't help but fall for the one with the striking green eyes. *this story contains mature and explicit content* Completed January 1, 2021. HIGHEST RANKINGS: #1 IN FAN #2 IN ONE DIRECTION #6 IN LIAM PAYNE #11 IN HARRY STYLES

Marigold Styar has been best friends with Harry Styles since before she can remember. That doesn't mean she doesn't see him as more. As they embark on the new journey of college, and sharing an apartment together in the big city will he finally give in? Will he finally come to terms with what he has with his best friend? Or will he continue to live in his fear of losing their friendship, and his fear of being heart broken by the flirtatious, life of the party Marigold? Their relationship has always been black and white in Harry's eyes because he's positive she doesn't want anything more. For Marigold... Well, it's complicated. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! "Confessing your feelings is the biggest gamble ever played. You'll either get everything you wanted, or lose everything you never wanted to lose." - Rishabh Raj *Story contains mature and explicit content* TW: There is assault, and harassment in this story!

I think she said I'm having your baby.... and it's none of your business. BOOK THREE TO STYLIST!!! IF YOU HAVE NOT READY STYLIST I SUGGEST YOU GO BACK AND READDDDD!

"They say insanity is trying the same thing but expecting something new" - Anson Seabra. SEQUEL TO STYLIST El kept telling him it was only meant to be for one night. She kept that mentality, or tried to. Harry didn't believe one bit of the front she put up so he fought hard. Right when he had her...he pushed her away. Through heart break and confusion that neither of them expected they found each other again, but can they make it work, or were they truly doomed from the start? EXCERPT: "When someone like me feels pain, or happiness or anything for that matter, I take it and I go with it... I use it as inspiration." He tells me. "So you wrote a song about me?" I ask, feeling my hands fumble as I try not to act as nervous as I feel while waiting for the answer. "The whole album is about you..." he tells me, and I realize he's more nervous than I am. I broke his heart... we broke each other's heart, and now all we can do is pick up the broken pieces... or try to.

Eileen Mae Montgomery, better known as El has been working for the Gucci special designs team for two years now. It's her dream job, but theres one thing she hates about it. The rude, narcissist celebrities. When she is assigned to work with Harry Styles to brainstorm and create his tour suits for his second world tour as a solo artists she was going to treat it as she would any other job assignment. That is until he asked her and some members of her team to join him on tour. El's was going to treat him the same as any other celebrity, but Harry had other ideas. She styled his clothes, but he didn't care about the clothes she put on him, he was more interested in what would come after the show, when the sequins and fun colors turned into a pile on the floor. EXCERPT: "I like you El." "Stop saying that. Stop saying you like me." He drops his hands, looking to me in confusion. "So you want me to lie?" He asks, smirking at my annoyance. "No I'd rather you keep it to yourself." I take my phone out , my annoyance rising, his smirk growing. "You've got three minutes before I leave, so talk." I tell him. "You're timing our conversations now?" He laughs a bit. "Two and a half minutes." "Okay fine. You don't show any interest in me unless we're..." His voice trails off, and I roll my eyes. "Unless we're sleeping together... yes, and your point?" COMPLETED!

Don't you call her baby. We're not talking lately. Don't you call her what you used to call me... A story in which a girl who writes songs falls in love with the boy who sings them. "Color...What a deep and mysterious language, the language of dreams." - Paul Gauguin. DO NOT PRINT MY BOOKS! *TW: story contains mature topics such as mental abuse, PTSD, minor drug usage, and minor sexual content.*