Beautiful Nightmares and 13 Rounds News!!!

So you've all been waiting for this...

Sadly, Beautiful Nightmares and 13 Rounds are not up.

Alas, I am only one person. I have three jobs and there isn't enough time in the day for me to stay on top of everything sometimes.

I got a little overwhelmed. I set unrealistic deadlines and I needed a break to preserve my own sanity trying to juggle everything. As most of you know, I write A LOT. Maybe a little too much. My books usually come out really close together and after thinking about this I decided that I will not release any of my future novels right on top of each other.

I needed to take a breather so I did. Now I'm back and feeling much better.

Beautiful Nightmares is my first priority right now. There were lots of things wrong. It wasn't just minor stuff. Paragraph's ended up missing, words were out of place, etc. I'm going to have an editor read through it just to be sure it's good as far as that goes and I'll say with certainty that it will be up by December 26,2012.

Once again I'm so, so, sorry for the delay. I know it's wrong to keep everyone waiting, but I had a lot going on at once and found myself unable to think clearly involving the release. I did not want to put a error-filled book just to please everyone. So I'm really and truly sorry for the delay.

13 Rounds and Yelling Out Loud. I get a lot of messages regarding these books. 13 Rounds is the second book I'll be focusing on and I'll have that one out by the end of January. I'll post the definite date soon and Yelling Out Loud most likely won't be released until Feb or March.

I have learned that I need to focus on one book at a time so I don't drive myself crazy, so that is what I'm going to do.

I hope you all understand. Thank you so much for your passion, devotion, and for loving my books so much. I appreciate it fully and whole-heartedly and I know that I'd be nothing without you. And finally, once again, I'm sorry.

Happy Holidays!

BEAUTIFUL NIGHTMARES....

So it's official readers!!!

For those of you who have been patiently waiting Beautiful Nightmares will be up in eBook format tomorrow night before midnight.

Apparently it's still taking a little longer to get all of the paperback stuff together so that one will be out by the end of next week..

Again, I'd like to thank all of the readers for the amount of support they show to authors every day. You guys seriously fuel us and are part of the reason why we write.

I honestly can't thank you all enough.

Also be sure to check out the bonus features in the back of Beautiful Nightmares!

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

IMPORTANT WHITE WALLS INFO AND EXCERPT

Morning Readers!

I hope everyone is kicking their week off to a great start!

Now, I have two things to share with you today...

1. I know that everyone who has read Insanity is anxiously awaiting the sequel, White Walls which is due out tomorrow.

But...

Sadly the release date has been pushed back. I know this is probably a total bummer, but sometimes things work out better this way.

2. I know this probably won't tide you over, but I've pasted a longer excerpt of White Walls below and I hope that you enjoy it.

The new release date is Monday June, 25, 2012 (This date is solid. It is NOT changing.)

White Walls Excerpt

My surroundings have started to fade in and out of focus. The trees whirl around me in circles. Browns, greens, and blacks. Browns, greens, and blacks. I have to stop and place my arm against one of the trunks. I drop my head, exhaling. The dizziness is overwhelming. I can't remember the last time I ate or drank anything. I can't remember what day it is.

My entire body is covered in beads of cold sweat and I've started hallucinating.

“Psst, Addy.” Damien's hushed voice rings out through the trees. “Come find me.”

I groan softly and try to lift my head. I don't have the strength to play his game right now.

“Addy.”

“No!” I shout and my voice trails, echoing as it travels along the cleared muddy path. “Why are you doing this? Why?”

I try to lift my head again and I succeed, but only to rest it in the crook of my elbow. My eyes are on the ground and I notice a pair of brown shoes, an added accessory to the forest debris along the path. My eyes travel upward, taking in Damien's appearance. He doesn't look like the Damien I was seeing when I was in Oakhill. He looks like he did the last time I saw him. He looks the way he looked a second before he died.

I suck in breath that I can't release. My lips quivers at the sight of the dried blood on his light blue button up. His skin is pale, his lips gray. And the haunting, lifeless look in his blue eyes is too much to bear. I blanch and look away. “No,” I cry. “No.”

He moves closer, twigs snapping beneath his feet, followed by a rustling of dead leaves. My body goes rigid. Panic flushes through my blood stream. I can feel him right next me and his cold, rancid breath fans across my face. I inhale then exhale quickly, gagging on the way he tastes, like a dug up corpse. “What's the matter, Addy?” His fingers are in my hair and his voice is eerie. Emotionless.

This is not my Damien. This is not my Damien. This is not my Damien.

I repeat the words in my head. This is not my Damien. He's a manifestation of my mind similar to a nightmare. “Stop,” I whisper, thinking pleading might actually work. I'm wrong.

The dead vision of the love of my life laughs. The laugh isn't pleasant. It's dark, cold, and evil. He pets my head and repeats his previous question, “What's the matter, Addy?” His fingers feel like slime as they slide across my skin. They keep sliding and sliding and they send a shiver of fear down my spine. I shudder and use all the strength I have to pull away from him. I stare into his dead eyes. “But I thought you loved me?” His clammy grayish skin bunches on his forehead.

Yes. Loved is the key word.

Will always are another two.

There will always be a part of me that loves him. There will always be a part of me that remembers the Damien I met one summer on a dirt road in West Des Moines, Iowa. The Damien who was beautiful, smart, caring, and funny. The Damien who stole my heart, promised to love me forever, and had plans for our future.

A future that was cut short and killed by my evil, conflicted father.

I have since learned that even though a part of me will always love him that doesn't mean I can continue to love him the way I used to. Because he's dead. And I can't go on loving a poltergeist for the rest of my life.

Hope you all enjoyed this!

Cheers!

Teaser: Chapter 1 of Insanity

Morning readers! As most of you know, I have a few new novels coming out soon! Infect Me will be released from Curiosity Quills press soon.(I'm still working on edits from my wonderful editor.)

 But....
Insanity my twisted, new adult, romantic suspense novel is the next book of mine to be released!

Whoot! Whoot! Honestly, I don't know why I'm drawn to writing tortured love stories, but for some reason it's something I excel at. So I'm super excited to let you get a little taste of what you're in for when you read Insanity.

 Also, I don't know about you guys, but I listen to a lot of music when I write. For some reason, it calms me... really puts me into the character's head. I have an extremely eclectic taste when it comes to music... I love anything and everything... so I thought it would be fun if I let you see the playlist for Insanity before you read chapter 1.

 1. My Boy Builds Coffins - Florence and the Machine 2. Claire de Lune - Claude Debussy 3. Change In The House Of Flies - Deftones 4. Breath of Life - Florence and the Machine 5. Hospital Beds - Florence and the Machine 6. Blood Bank - Bon Iver 7. Climax - Usher 8. Criminal - Fiona Apple 10. Crazy - Stars Go Dim 11. A Drop in the Ocean - Ron Pope 12. Stronger - Kelly Clarkson 13. When I'm Gone - Eminem 14. Lullaby - Nickelback 15. Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana 16. My Heart - Paramore 17. Heart Attack - Trey Songz  

Yay, now for Chapter 1 

I remember my first night here.
I remember the flickering lights on the ceiling that reminded me of bug zappers. The disenchanting vibe that was set from the way the dim lights danced along the neutral colored walls. More than anything, I remember the way they dragged me in here. Two orderly's, dressed from head to toe in white, clutching my elbows and escorting me down the darkened hall, barefoot and sobbing, dirt and blood caked up and ratted through my midnight colored locks, and smeared around the edges of my lime green dress.
I'd screamed in hysteria.
Cried with devotion.
 And kicked with conviction.
They led me to a sanitation area, ripped my clothes from my body, then hosed me down like a pig before it was sent to the slaughterhouse. A bar of soap whacked me in the side of the head after an orderly chucked it at me and told me to wash myself. I was too afraid to do anything. Too afraid to move. So when I sat there for five minutes, sobbing so hard I could barely breathe, legs and arms twitching with spasms. Finally, out of impatience and anger the orderly stomped over and washed me instead.
 I'd never felt more hopeless, more pitiful, or ever felt violated in a dirty kind of way. After my seven-minute shower, without letting me dry off, they plastered a hospital gown on my wet body and led me to my room. Freezing, I'd shivered, teeth chattering, and pumped warmth back into my body with friction from my hands. Nauseous, I swallowed the vomit inching up the back of my throat. Numb, I stared blankly ahead, unable to concentrate. I remembered thinking; if they kill people at this place, I hope they kill me soon.
They put me in solitary confinement. A small shoebox of a room with padded walls. They strapped me into a straightjacket. I fought the restraints. I screamed for help. I kicked one of the orderlies in the jaw.
You're a danger to yourself and others, they told me.
This is for your own good, your safety, they told me.
Here's the first thing I've learned since I arrived at the Oak Hill, Asylum; when everyone thinks you're crazy, no one is going to listen to you. Either that or they'll make you their own personal pincushion and fill your veins with the kind of tranquilizing medicine they use on horses.
That night, my first night here, I'd shrieked all night long, tucked in a ball on my small thin cot, sobbing harder than I've ever sobbed before. The funny thing is; I haven't stopped since then.
Three weeks.
 It has been three weeks.
 I still don't know why I'm here. What did I do to wind up in this place? I ask myself this question multiple times every day and I can never find the answer. Sometimes I hear a familiar voice in my head. Daddy's voice. “You stay out of her head, you little fucker. You stay out of her bed, you little fucker.”
But who is the little fucker?
My daddy was a bad man. He was best friends with Jimmy, Jack, and a Mexican named Jose. He liked to drink with his three best friends. Sometimes he'd even get piss ass drunk with them. On rare occasions he was nice; usually when his friends weren't around. Sometimes he even led me to believe he loved me. I think. When I was little, Daddy used to push me on a tire swing he'd made me. I'd tell him how I'd want to be a bird, a canary, because canaries are pretty and yellow and have beautiful singing voice's. Mommy was around then and she always thought it was funny that I'd talk about canaries. “And where would you fly my little bird,” she'd say kissing the top of my head with a chuckle.
 Then I'd reply with, “I'd fly to the moon.” Mommy, Daddy, and me laughed.
We were a happy family.
 Until one day, I woke up and Mommy was gone. And Daddy was never the same.
His friends used to come home with him occasionally, and after a while they came home with him every day. I asked myself every day where my old daddy went and thought about how bad I wanted him back. But I never saw my old daddy again. He left me, just like Mommy did. I didn't like my new daddy. One time, I'd just looked at him, giving him a sad look, tears glistening in my violet eyes. He'd looked back at me and for a second I thought I might catch a glimpse of my old daddy. He'd stood up from his reclining chair, walked to me, and towered over me, squinting down at me. I'd opened my mouth to tell Daddy how much I loved him and that I missed my old daddy and he's said, “You look just like that whore mother of yours.” And then he slapped me across the face.
That treatment continued for the next eight years, but I'd learned to be quiet, keep to myself. I'd learned to keep away from Daddy and obey him. Because I knew what would happen if I didn't.
Then one night, Daddy's friends were over and Daddy had a little too much of them for one night. Daddy's friends made him do crazy things sometimes. That night, the night they brought me in here, Daddy pulled out his rifle, aimed it...
BANG!
Then everything goes black and the shrieking begins.
Plodding footsteps drown out the sound of my screams.
I try and tell myself to stop screaming, but its like my mind and emotions are at war with one another. Before I know it, the door to my cell swings open.
 Four people.
There are four people approaching me, arms outstretched cautiously like I am some wild, ravenous beast in need of capturing. Four people.
I have nothing to defend myself with except for two arms, two legs, and a sharp mind.
But four to one? I am severely outnumbered. This is a battle I am going to lose. Still, even though I know I'll be defeated, determination pumps through me. I have never been the type to go down without a fight. Perhaps that's why I spent the last eight years letting my daddy beat me within an inch of my life. I never wanted to give him the satisfaction of knowing that every time his fist connected with my jaw he didn't mentally break me.
Darting from my bed, I start for the door. Swimming hands swallow me and capture me in a net of firmness before carrying me back over to my cot. Thrashing my arms, I backhand a nurse, knocking the cap off her head and she grips the rounded collar of my hospital gown, cutting off my air supply for a second.
“Hold her down!” At the doctor's instruction a heavy-set nurse digs her kneecap into the small of my back and presses down.
No! Don't hold me down! Set me free! I don't belong here!
 “No!” My voice is raspy and raw and dry, full of pent up fear and anger. “No!” I try to swat at someone behind me, but the two orderlies pin my arms to my cot. Wiggling, I try to free myself from their grasp, but the nurse with her knee in my back puts all over her weight on me, shooting shivers of pain down my spine and immobilizing me.
“Calm down,” my doctor says. He has a soft, soothing voice, but its deadly.
 I peek through stands of my ebony hair, watching the sweet, sweet mind-erasing fluid spout from the tip of the needle like a fountain. The drug speaks to me. Forget who you are. Forget where you are. Forget why you were brought here. Forget everything. I won't let them make me forget. I won't let them neutralize me and turn me into one of their empty robots.
 I won't. I won't. I won't.
“Keep still, Adelaide. This won't hurt. You'll only feel a pinch.” But that pinch will dilute everything.
I panic, screaming louder, and thrash as hard as I can. The orderlies in front of me grip my wrists harder and I can see one clearly through my strands of unwashed hair. Thick black hair, blue blue eyes, and toasted almond skin. He doesn't look at me like the chubby one with pale, ashy hair next to him is looking at me. He's not looking at me like I'm crazy. He's looking at me like he feels sorry for me. Like he wants to take me away from this gloomy prison and hide me from the doctors with needles and metronomes.
 Please, blue eyes.
 Save me.
Be my prince charming.
My knight in shining armor.
 Rescue me from a burning tower of depression, sadness, and misery.
He doesn't.
The needle plunges into my skin and I let out a whimper. The drug blasts through my veins and infiltrates my bloodstream, shutting every organ inside of me down for the night. Widening my eyes, I fight off the effects of the drug as it works its way through my body. I clench my fists defiantly, trying to scream again, but I'm too weak, too tired, and too over taken by the drugs to do anything but moan inaudibly.
I hear the doctor. “Just wait until it takes full effect.” His voice is muffled, fading away, pretty soon I can't hear him at all anymore. I think my door closes.
There's a ringing in my ears that I can't shut out. There's a hand on my wrist that doesn't let go. Before exhaustion takes over I look up. Blue eyes is at the end of the bed. He releases my wrist and laces his fingers through mine. I squint as the sedative blurs my vision, begins to decapitate my mind, and then notice the painful look in those blue blue eyes.
On top of the pain in the two blue gems there's familiarity.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
How could I forget him? Him, of all people. The one person in the entire world who holds the key to my heart. The one and only person who has ever really loved me. Then I remind myself that they feed and inject me with so many drugs, that its a miracle I don't forget who I am.
I struggle to sound coherent, “Damien?”
He mouths something.
Six words.
 Six words that seem too impossible to be true.
Six words that bleed hope into my soul.
Six words.
“You're not crazy. I love you.”

 Hope you guys enjoyed this!

 Cheers!

Pick A Genre...Any Genre... And Brand Yourself.

Happy Monday Readers!

I hope everyone had a great and relaxing weekend! Well now it's Monday. Time to get back to work!

Today's post is going to be about branding yourself as an author. I know. I know. I was just like you. I'd say to myself why should I limit myself? Why should I focus on one area where there are so many other possibilities?

I don't know about you guys, but I like to challenge myself. I like to pick challenging subjects and write about them. Hence the love triangle in He Loves Me... Or book 2 Love Without Words in the pandemic series.(Which by the way, I'm going to attempt to write an entire book without dialogue. Tricky,tricky, I know.)

But I'll tell you this....

Branding yourself is important. It is where you discover yourself as a writer. And I'll tell you something I learned about myself. I'm a romance writer. Whether it's a dark romance--like A Whisper To A Scream--or an fun summer fling romance like--If I Can't Have You. Romance is what I'm good at. That's my brand. And that's what I'm going to focus on in the future. And do you know how many books written it took me to learn that? Let's just say...A LOT.

Everyone is different. Some writers are good at one genre, but not so good at another. And I will say the most important thing we can do is write book after book and learn from ourselves. Deep down inside you know what your strengths and weaknesses are.

A lot of times we have to explore our writing capabilities. Sometimes we have to write several different books before we write "the one", and figure out where we want to be as writers. But what's more important than anything is that we dive in head first and never give up the fight.

I hope you've found something helpful in this post. And now for a lil treat! I've pasted a snippet from If I Can't Have You below. I hope you enjoy it and have a great week!

Cheers! <3

For a moment neither one of us moves. We’re mesmerized, swimming in each other’s gazes. Slowly Drake slides his fingers up my waist, locking my hips against his. Then he sits up, still staring, not breaking his focus.There’s sand all over his arms and the rough texture scratches against my burn skin, making it feel raw. He glides a free hand up my spine and I shiver as my shirt slides up and I feel his moist fingers against my back. He gently pulls the hair tie from my hair and my shoulders are covered in waves of chocolate cherry locks. “I want you,” he whispers. “I want you bad.”

And I want him. Oh how I’ve wanted him. For years and years and years. And this moment seems a little surreal to me. That finally, after all this time I finally get what I’ve wanted. What I’ve coveted. What I’ve adored.

I twist the thick straps of his wife-beater around my forefingers and urge his lips closer to mine with each tug. He’s so close his warm breath trails along my cheek bones and heats my face. His lips are so close and if I I move an inch mine will touch his. “You do something crazy to me, kid.”

And he does something crazy to me too. I’m a nut job in a mental institution. Clearly incapable of functioning normally and Drake is the orderly he comes to me every morning to deliver my pills. Without him I’ll be crazy forever. Only he is capable of getting rid of the insanity because he is the cure to it.

New Book, New Cover, and some news!

Morning readers!

So.... it's been forever since I've written a post.

First off I have a new YA Romance coming out! YaY! I've pasted the cover below & blurb... I'm super psyched about it.

One is lonely. Three is a crowd.

Robin Mason has never been the same since Drake Robertson, a hot lifeguard at her family's yearly vacation spot saves her from drowning. Ever since that day she's never let another guy hold a candle to him. She's idolized him and has been waiting for the day where they can go from Facebook friends to more. Much, much more.

Flash-forward three years and Robin isn't the same tween Drake rescued from the deep blue sea. She's college bound, curvy, and finally ready to take what she wants most--Drake.

But not if Drake's brother Elliot has anything to say about it.

Robin is torn between what's right and what's wrong, her head and her heart, and two brothers that are simply irresistible. But who will she choose? Safe, sweet, Elliot? Or the hot, smoldering, Drake?

Two brothers. One Girl. One choice. So which will it be?

Also.... I'm going to take Asphodel down. There are some errors I've been made aware of and I'm going to be taking it down in the next week to make some corrections to it.

Lastly, after If I Can't Have You comes out on Jan 31, I'm taking a much needed break and the first book that will be released out of the one's that have sequels will be the sequel to A Whisper To A Scream, Yelling Out Loud on March 20.

On the agent home front I've some awesome news to share soon, but as of right now I have to keep everything hush-hush. BUT.... I will say that I'm going to be accepting queries for romance novels. Both adult and YA are welcome.

AND.... I really really wish some of you would query me with some dark novels. Like YA horror or suspense. Unfortunately, I'm not accepting anymore Paranormal Romances at this time.

I think that's about it.

I hope everyone has a stellar week!

Asphodel Book Birthday!

Yay!!!!!!

So I'm super duper excited that Asphodel releases today! Yay!

You can buy you eBook copy at either Amazon, B&N, or Smashwords and the paperback will be available for pre-order starting Thurs. :)

I also have some more good news!

My lovely client Kelly Hashway's book, Touch of Death sold in a two book deal to Spencer Hill Press for publication in Jan 2013. Yay!

I have got two more deals to announce, but have to wait a little while longer before I announce them. *sighs*

That's all for now, I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Cheers!

Hopefully there's more awesomeness to come in 2012!

<3 Lauren

So... It's official! I am a best seller!

So this past week has literally been insane for me!

And as of Saturday I officially became a best selling author. YaY!

This post is going to be short simple and to the point. For those of you who've read... He Loves Me...He Loves You Not... THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!

Most importantly, I never in a million years would have ever expected this. It means so much to me!

Some more news... You can definitely look forward to some more YA romances from me. I have a new one coming out at the end of the month called If I Can't Have You... And many many more coming in the future.

Thank you all so much for your support and love of He Loves Me... I am humbled and flattered that you enjoyed it!

Have a great week!

Cheers!

He Loves Me...He Loves You Not

Yay!

Today is the release day of my steamy YA/romance novella, He Loves Me...He Loves You Not.

Riley loves Henry. Henry loves Riley, but he's dating Callie.

Riley Davis is mixed up in an emotional love triangle that she wants out of.

But she can't help the way she feels about Henry Garner. She's obsessed. And she's convinced that her on the sly relationship with Henry is going to end badly.

And Henry has a secret. A secret that could make or break one relationship. But which one will it be? His relationship with Callie? Or his romantic entanglement with Riley?(summary from goodreads)

This was one of the most emotional books that I think I've ever written. And as most of you can see from the summary, it's about a love triangle. And it's told from the other woman's perspective. I don't know about everyone else, but I like to pick boundary-pushing subjects to write about. What can I say? I like to challenge myself. After He Loves Me...He Loves You Not I have one more novel releasing in 2011 and it drops December 20,2011. Asphodel is the first in a trilogy called The Underworld Trilogy. Also I have a huge line up for 2012.

First up at the end of Feb will be Remember Me My Love... another YA/Romance but, this one is actually based on a true story.

Hope you guys get a chance to check out He Loves Me...He Loves You Not!

Cheers!

Riley loves Henry. Henry loves Riley.

Hi Everyone!!!!

Sooo tomorrow He Loves Me...He Loves You Not my eBook novella comes out!! YaY! This book was so much fun to write! So today I'm posting chapter one for you to read! Hope you enjoy it... And I hope it makes you swoon :)

Chapter 1

"Love prefers twilight to daylight.”~ Oliver Wendell Holmes ~

Friday night is for lovers. An early morning tryst. A passionate dalliance.

It’s two in the morning, but I can’t sleep. I’m anxious because I know he’ll be here any minute.

I watch the moonlight as the glowing beams seep through my open window and dance along the hardwood floor. A minute passes. Then five. Next ten.

A cool summer breeze whips through my pale blue curtains and the sound of soft footsteps cuts into the silence engulfing my bedroom. He pushes back the curtains and I swear I can see his perfect smile gleaming in the dark.

Henry.

The anxious feeling subsides as the springs in my mattress squeak and Henry crawls into bed with me. His warm fingers slide over my bare hip and I shiver. My time with him is limited so when I get it, I’m happy, so happy that I cry. His touch thrills me, electrifies me, and sends a jolt throughout my body.

“You’re too far away,” he murmurs. His voice reminds me of the man in black. Deep, raspy, sexy.

I let out a restrained laugh. “I’m right next to you.”

“Still not close enough.”

He tugs on my hip bone and I scoot backwards, closer. So close that I feel like at any given moment we might melt together and become one.

He exhales into the curve of my neck and his hot breath trails down my back, igniting my insides. I swallow hard, so consumed with my desire for him that the burning sensation coursing through my veins is overwhelming. I contemplate telling him to hold me forever. To never let me go. But I don’t. That might sound too needy. Too desperate.

He kisses my hair and whispers, “I missed you.”

I reach for his arm pulling it around me tighter. Goosebumps rise all over my body as his fingertips tickle my stomach. My voice quivers, “I missed you, too.”

I find his crystalline blue eyes in the dark and he crooks me a wicked yet beautiful smile. “Kiss me.”

And I do. I kiss him fervently and passionately. My lips flutter overtop of his in a frenzy of seductive bliss and inside I tell myself I’d rather suffocate than sacrifice a moment from kissing him to come up for air.

He rolls over, half on top of me and clutches my bare thigh. I’m delirious. Lost in him. My fingers dig into his back as his lips brush against my collar bone.

Henry. Henry. Henry.

Inside I’m screaming. Don’t stop. Never take your hands off me. I love you.

But those thoughts are unrealistic fantasies.

He’s taken. Some other girl’s property. And just like me, she anticipates a gentle brush from his lips. She anticipates his warm enchanting smile, and his tender loving touch.

And sadly she has something that I don’t…

All of him.
~~~~~~
An hour later, he’s putting his pants on, kissing my forehead and sliding back out my window.

“Stay,” I say, softer than a whisper.

I know he won’t. He never does. And for me to think that he ever will is wishful thinking.

He doesn’t hear me. He’s gone. And I lose it.

I shove my face into my pillow and scream. Cry. Sob. An agonizing, dull pain pumps through my heart and I feel like I’m dying inside.

I’m trembling, tucked into a ball. I’m so weak that it makes me sick.

If I was a strong person, I’d tell him to fuck off and never crawl back through my window ever again.

I’d tell him that what we’re doing isn’t okay. Cheating is morally wrong. But I love him so much it makes my whole body ache when I think I might never see him again.

Now I truly understand what it feels like to be the other woman.

Happy Monday Everyone!

Hope you enjoyed this!

Cheers! <3