Showing results by author "Lily White" in All Categories

You’ll judge me. Hate me, and tell me I’m wrong. Refuse to see how my darkness is what she needs. While I don’t particularly care about your feelings in the matter, and while I pursue her - despite the wedding bells that rang for another - only I can see how she is drowning beneath mediocrity. He had his chance to make her happy. He failed. He didn't see how she was dying inside, because he couldn't know her. Not like I know her. I am her stalker. Her protector. And the only man that can bring her back to life.

Ninth circle. Treachery. Also known as Tanner Caine. He is a temptation with cold, dark eyes. A man with a seductive smirk and a body built for pure sin. The linchpin of a group of wealthy bad boys known as the Inferno. A dark presence that repels as much as he attracts, Tanner is the poisoned apple I want to bite even when I know it will destroy me. Our story started in college, but I ran from him so far I believed I was safe.

Amanita muscaria mushrooms have a long history of being used as a hallucinogen throughout most of the northern hemisphere, and the impact of this usage can still be observed today. Everything from religion, culture, magic, witchcraft, fairy tales etc. have all likely been shaped in some way by these mushrooms. But many of these stories have been told countless times, so I will instead put my main focus on covering many aspects of these mushrooms that are so often missed.

Every man who meets Rainey wants her. Having lived a life of sex, drugs, and manipulation, she is a temptation with far too many secrets. When psychologist, Justin Redding, is assigned to Rainey's case, he has no way of knowing the tale of debauchery he will encounter. On a twisted path of love, loss, and murder, Rainey leads Justin through the events of her life. Death follows Rainey.... Justin fights to discover her secrets....

I’m not sure what I was thinking that day. It was a normal Thursday, nothing new or exciting had occurred in the morning. I’d risen from bed, taken a shower and brushed my teeth. I’d then jumped on the 8:05 bus that ran a short distance between my house and the county library where I worked. The ride took its usual 15 minutes before it left me standing fresh-faced in front of a building of gothic construction that was my favorite place in the world. After straightening my knee-length skirt, I pushed open the door that led into the interior of the library.