"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN

"Chilling in my comfy onesie! Chilling, chilling, chilling in my unicorn onesie!" I sang while doing a little dance. Then I heard laughing behind me. "Who goes there?" I said spinning around and doing a ninja pose. Oh my lord! Nosebleed! I am looking at two (hot) guys right now. One was laughing and one was glaring. My eyes narrowed on the one laughing. Is he laughing at me??? "What you laughing at? Huh? Huh? You wanna piece of me? Do ya? Come on I'll take you! I'll beat you're arse!" I said jumping back and fourth on my heels. "Blake you idiot, stop laughing and get her or so help me I will kick you in the throat!" Mr. Grumpy threatened. "Whaaa???" I questioned confuzzled. "Why you so mean to me?" He whined but walked to me anyways. "Shut up, I'll start the van." He growled and left the room. Whoah, someone's on there period. And I am one hundred percent sure it's not me. "Come on, let's go." Blake said picking me up bridal style. "What? No! I don't wanna! I don't wanna!" I yelled thrashing in his arms. "To late" he smirked and placed me in the van. uh-oh. *** Ladies and gentleman, I introduce to you, Maya Greene, 18 year old girl. She is your bubbly, weird, and as some people may say, very childish kind of girl. But what can you say? She is a child at heart. What will happen after she get kidnapped? Read to find out! Enjoy!

I don't know when it happened, or how, but I know I'm crazy. Nothing more, nothing less. Or well, maybe add weird too. Most people tend to stay away from me and it's no mystery why. But then those five hot guys just had to come and kidnap me. Like, why? Because apparently my dad is the leader of an infamous gang and these teenagers want to take him down. Pfft, still doesn't count. Now, I'm just worrying about whether or not I want to get released - an excuse for skipping school? Hell yeah! Though there is that tiny, little issue regarding the question about if they are going to kill me or not. Might as well have a bit of fun before that happens. ~~~ Okay, so this is like my first book, and... It's... I don't know what it is. I read some stories were a crazy girl get's kidnapped, and decided to write a story like that too. So, here we are! What's my point? I think I had one... 1# crazy (How? What? I'm confused)