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.*

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]

"Say one word and I will leave you alone from now on," he murmured, "I won't object." He brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, his touch unexpectedly soft on her skin. "But if you're interested, if you want to know more, say so." He let his finger travel down her cheek to her jaw, grazing her throat and leaving a burning trail on her body, and Cora parted her lips to breathe out a reply. "Please?" "Please what?" Harry asked, whispering into her ear, way closer to her than he'd ever been before. "Do you want me to take you to the deep end?" • • • When Cora meets Harry, the enigmatic owner of the Fair, she's thrown into a world of magic and mystery. Between royal intrigues, blooming wars and a whirlwind romance, she must find out who she truly is and where her loyalties lie - but she must be fast, because it won't be long before she'll be put to the test. Now she must ask herself, what is she willing to give up in order to follow the path before her? And is Harry truly the perfect man she's always believed him to be, or is there more to him than meets the eye? 29/11/21 #39 in harry 14/12/21 #118 in fiction