Lovegames27 Stories

Marshall Lee; he was sexy, he was witty, he was cute and charismatic, and he was intelligent, but incredibly mysterious. He was over a thousand years old; he had to have some kind of a past hiding behind those dark eyes. Disclaimer: I'm sorry, I most likely will never finish or update the book. Read if you don't mind serious cliffhangers and crappy writing.

**I made this when I was twelve; take that for what you wish. Fionna was a young woman. She was no pushover like her old preteen days. She was ready to get into the dating game. However, with this enthusiasm and spontaneous passion, she quickly learns the dangers of it. Who will she choose? Well, it's her choice. Warning: the writing skills in this book are really quite awful... like, a lot

Ashley Laslot. Nine fingers. Stubby. Peggy. She was known throughout her entire school for one reason, and one only. She was born without a left pinky finger. Of course she could never properly play her favorite sport to the best of her ability, or never fit on a glove properly, but she never considered it much of a setback. Suddenly, there's talk of a new boy joining the baseball team: the infamous Harry Styles. He's gotten expelled from multiple schools throughout the county and was legendary for the quantity of girls he's hooked up with. He tops anything Ashley could dream of and quickly, they're enemies. But also, dating?

Stephanie was Stephanie. No horribly long description. No short one, either. Just Stephanie. She was popular, as far as that term goes. She was pretty, enough to be admired by school and her local modeling agency. She was smart, enough to get into a good university. She was, simply, Stephanie. But there was something about her that made her Stephanie. It was a certain way she handled certain people. She was playful yet kind, but only to her friends. She was harsh and bitter, but only to her enemies. But there was one way she treated one person. That person, being a person named Louis. Louis Tomlinson. She didn't treat him horrifically. She didn't exactly treat him with warmth, either. She treated him with something more along the lines of... Sweet Disgust. Please Note: This book insists a strong PG13 theme. Including adult language, sexual reference, and some sexual content.

London Holloway was a snob. She was gorgeous, filthy rich, and outrageously talented. She got everything she wanted... almost. When she appears at a social gathering and happens to bump into the one and only Zayn Malik of the worldwide known band One Direction, love is in the air. For her, at least. When she confidently asks this heartthrob band member out, she's brutally rejected. After the blow, she gains determination to steal his heart. She does everything in her power to gain his affection, even if that means accepting the job of their tour manager.

Fiolee One Shot

He was evil. He must've been some sort of demon or something. His name was Marshall L., he worked for the HOA, and just happened to live across the street from me. I never really met him, or even gave a damn about him... Until he evicted me. For no reason. While I got to move to my current apartment and sortout the mess, we had a mutual hatred for each other since. Or at least I thought so, until one magical morning when I was running to work and bumped into him; and in the midst of insincere apologies, he decides to kiss me. Whoa, what?

"And now, I have the incredible honor of presenting Princess Valadia of Ireland!" The announcer spoke over the blasting speakers. Crap. Crap, crap, crap. I quickly wiped on a couple swipes of deodorant, and popped in a piece of gum. As the curtains opened, gasps were heard from the crowd. "What could possibly be happening, now?" I mumbled, until I saw a large raccoon crawling up my leg. Great. ~-~ Hi, I'm Valadia. Stupid name, right? Sort of like a mix of valentine and salad. Anyways, I'm Princess of Ireland, heir to my father, King Marcus. He's sort of an evil dictator who overthrew Ireland's stable government and turned it into a hellhole of a monarchy. So, I wasn't exactly raised with nursery rhymes and toys. I was raised on the constant fear of bombings, and was trained since age 7 to fight and kill. Lovely, right? I thought so. So you may be wondering what makes me so different? Well, I'll be the first to tell you. Absolutely everything.