My Sweet Variable

My Sweet Variable by lifeinthesnow
He white-knuckles his pen, dragging a line of ink across the page. I can guess which passage he's marking: "All things truly wicked start from an innocence." Hemingway wouldn't have known about us. No one does. Teenage E/B, AH, quasi-dystopian.

I originally saw this on TLS but put it on my tbr because I hate WIP. They drive me crazy because I HAVE TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT! I honestly don't know why I continue to read them. Alas, I am stoopid.  And I want you to be stoopid too!

A friend or ten on Twitter rec'd this to me, and I caved. I'm so glad I caved. This is the perfect fic. Well written, technically and story wise, amazing characters, intrigue, adventure, mystery, romance, tension. Love, love, love. 

Tell me you aren't interested after this. 

"What are you looking at?" I turn my head slowly toward the halfhearted scrimmage match taking place on the soccer field. Torsos in gray T-shirts rise out of a tangle of chalky shins and puffs of dust.

"New Guy." Rose fluff-shakes her hair so it falls in front of her face, pretending to search out split ends. Her peroxide habit means it's pretty much all split ends. She peers through the blond curtain. "He needs a name."

"Why not…Officer?" Alice narrows her kohl-rimmed eyes, looking up from her book with a smirk. A black lacquered fingernail floats down to hold her place on the page.

"He's not a narc." By now Rose and I are plainly staring. New Guy, as Rose calls him, is taller than the others. His long legs should make him a fast runner, but he moves like a heavy and invisible cloak is weighing him down. He has hard sinews in his legs and tired shadows under his eyes that make Alice think he's a twenty-something cop working undercover, not the seventeen-year-old student he claims to be.

Alice follows my glance. "I'm halfway serious. I mean, who transfers schools two months before the school year ends?"

"His dad had to move for a job. I heard he's already got his credits from his old school, and his parents just wanted him enrolled so he would make friends." Ah. Rose has done research. I study her face. She isn't smitten, but this mode of attention means she's considering it.

"You heard all that, and you still don't know his name?" Alice purses her lips. "I just don't know. He's hiding something."

"Why do you even care, twerp?" I nudge the side of Alice's Doc Martens boot with my sneaker. The toughness she projects is real, but she's also a sweetheart who couldn't get arrested if she tried. "He could use a little beauty rest. But he's not a narc."

I know this about him—this New Guy.

I know practically everything about him.

I know his name is Edward. His purported and actual age is seventeen. He consumes cutting-edge comic books and run-of-the-mill sci-fi novels in equal measure. He goes for salty over sweet, but both at once trump either one alone. He's gifted with a knack for languages, a photographic memory, and the vision of a hawk. He is not a narc. He is, however, an operative in an elite and controversial top-secret espionage unit, trained from a young age to kill with precision and stealth.

Just like me.

What the what? Yeah, assassin teenagers, yo. And I die from all the love. I adore this kind of stuff. People caught up in something dangerous they can't get out of with a love story and action intermingled. Sigh. 

Bella and Edward have been assigned to work together, and part of their assignment is to pretend to be in a relationship. I know! I think there's love involved. Uh huh. 

"Can you hurry up and shove your tongue down my throat?"

The look on his face melts into something softer, but just for a moment. "You're nervous." In a blink, he's grinning again. "Should I role play? Would that make it easier? What's something what's-his-name says? Ryan Gosling?"

"You're already role playing, remember? You're 'New Guy' now."

"I am?"

"Your nickname at school. That's what they call you."

He squints his eyes in mock dismay. "It's a little bland, isn't it?"

"Alice thinks you're a narc."

"Oh, that's good. Man of mystery. Mature. And only the really corrupt narcs make out with the students."

Somehow, he's distracted me so much that I've forgotten his fingers are in my hair. Almost.

"Ready?"

"Whatever. I'm sure it will be fine." Actually, I'm thinking it will feel like CPR, but I keep that to myself. "Just don't make it weirder, if you can help it."

He opens and closes his mouth. "I wish…never mind. I'm not helping."

"What?" I huff into my palm to check my breath.

"No, you're fine. God, Bella." He does this funny thing with his hands, moving back and forth between friendly shoulder-pats and softer experimental touches. "I just…you're a girl, okay. I know girls like to have moments. With some guy whose picture they have in their locker. I wish this was like that for you."

I shake my head. He's making it weird, all right. Him saying that makes me feel flushed. "Nobody really lives that sort of life anyhow. But for the sake of your inner-fantasy reel, if I were the type to get crushes, I'd have one on you."

He cracks a smile—his complicated smile. The one that always makes me feel a strange lump in my throat.

"Requests? Last chance. Tongue or no tongue?"

"You've kissed girls before. Just do whatever."

"Okay. Here we go. Don't hit me." He places his palms on either side of my face.

I close my eyes. I'm prepared for his mouth to crush me, but he only brushes his lips against mine at first. It's soft. He stays just like that for a moment, neither pressing on nor moving away. He smells different, being this close. It's his hair or skin or something. And then I feel his lips again, still soft, still slow.

I can't help thinking the craziest things—like: We're breathing the same air. Has this air been in his lungs, or only his mouth? Can he feel my heartbeat in my lips, or is that just me?The tip of his tongue, light and wet, catches me off guard. When I gasp, I feel him sigh roughly, and then I feel the strength of his lips—but only for an instant.

"Um. Okay—sorry. This okay?" I feel his breath on my skin when he speaks.

I realize I'm gripping his wrists in my hands, and I can't tell if I meant to hold him to me or keep him at bay. I nod against his forehead and peck him quickly on the lips and then his cheek.

"Yeah. Good. That should be believable, right?" My voice wavers.

He leans away from me, looking off to the side for a moment and then looking me in the eye. "If 'believable' is what we're going for, yeah."

Bella is doing her job, trying to get it right, but Edward . . . Edward, methinks, is in love.  And it's not insta-love. It's real I've-known-you-for-so-long-we-should-be-together love. Awesome, right? Know what else is awesome? Bella and Edward have ear pieces that are linked to each other. They can talk whenever they want. In the cafeteria on opposite sides of the room, two streets away, bedrooms apart. You get the picture. It's so cool. 

Know what's not cool? The big, bad, creepy employer, Aro, can listen in. So if they want to talk about trying to get out of their lifestyle they've gotta get sneaky, which is dangerous, which makes me love this fic even more. 

Bella kicks ass, and so does Edward, but he's also a reluctant assassin. I want to hold him in my arms and pet his hair. I guess I'll let Bella do it for now . . .

"Talk to me." My voice is lower than a whisper.

I feel his rib cage expand and contract before his breath tickles my skin. "Do you ever find yourself wishing Charlie knew? Someone who would stick up for you and help you sort out right from wrong?"

I have to stifle a gasp. This kind of talk would get us both called to headquarters. Right and wrong isn't supposed to occur to us. This is the kink they haven't worked out in their genius program: We develop consciences. I can't even answer. I just shake my head no.

He shudders and sinks in my arms, letting me hold him. "I just don't know how much longer I can do this without losing…you know." I do know. All semblance of humanity is the thing he means. He thinks about it a lot.

"You're eighteen soon, and then it's just one more year." Feeble, I know.

He sighs. It's hot on my neck. That sigh says a year is forever.

I can't have him breaking down on me. "Shh. You're a good person, Edward. The best I know. You've never made anyone suffer—not on purpose, not on accident. Listen to me. And none of them were innocent. They died for a reason."

Gah!

I harped on the author to find out when it's updating since it was last updated in June. She said, and I quote, "Soon." Yipee. 

Team Jacob Safe

Smut Factor: nonexistent. Average teen UST with kisses and things like, "Goodbye, special tall shoes."

Caged by Savage

Caged by Savage
Summary: This is not made for TV. This is the raw, brutal underground of no-holds-barred combat. Inside the cage there is nothing but me and the pain I inflict on those who dare enter. In the cage, I never had to worry about anyone but myself. When she started standing outside of it, everything changed. I was no longer fighting for the money or the glory – I had to fight for her.

http://shaysavage.blogspot.com/ Teasers on Tuesdays.

I have a hard time reading a story unless someone I know and trust recs it to me, but sometimes, just sometimes, a gem like this will pop up on The Fictionators or The Lemonade Stand and the excerpts from the story or the gushing from the reviewer will pull me in. Well, that's what happened with this WIP. Thank you, TLS!

Caged is EPOV, and I love this Edward. He is all man. He drinks, he smokes, he has a foul mouth, he lives like a pig, and he wants to beat everyone up. He is also the most protective, sweetest -- even though blunt and rude -- guy out there. By profession he is a cage fighter. By choice he protects Bella, whom he first meets when heading home. 

This is the excerpt that grabbed me, so that's what I'm going to share. 

The trip-trapping sound of women's shoes on pavement caused me to look up, and I watched a young woman come into view as she passed the dumpsters at the back of the bar. She walked quickly with her head down and a purse with a long strap over her shoulder. Her long, brown hair was tied up in a pony tail at the top of her head, and she wore a pair of short-shorts, which showed off her long legs, and a tight T-shirt with the name of the bar and grill a few block down across her chest. I figured she was maybe five-foot-four and a hundred and fifteen pounds, because I tended to size people up that way. Nice build, nice tits. She didn't look over to me at all, just kept up her quick pace down the street with her eyes on her feet.

My first thought was fucking gorgeous.

My second thought was fucking stupid.

Who walked around this area of town in the middle of the night by themselves? I mean, yeah – I did – but I wasn't a very easy target. She might as well have had a sign on her back that said "mug me". I shook my head and went back to rummaging around in my bag. When I looked up again, the sound of her shoes was beginning to fade, but that wasn't what caught my attention.
The guys who had been sitting and drinking across the street had gone quiet, and were now all standing up with their heads close to one another. The guy with greasy, shoulder length, black hair turned his head to look down the street in the direction the girl was walking, and then nodded before he and a guy with a backwards baseball cap took off down the side alley that ran perpendicular to the street they were on.

I'd lived in that area a couple of years, and I knew that alley intersected with another alley, which then met up with a walkway between two of the abandoned warehouses, and dumped out onto this street a couple blocks down. The last two guys in the group were heavy set with unkempt dirty blond hair. They looked like they might have been brothers. They quickly abandoned the bottle-in-a-bag and started walking quietly but quickly in the same direction the girl was going, pulling the hoodies up over their heads as they walked.

Their intent was obvious.

"Fuck," I mumbled. I grabbed my bag, ignoring the shirt that fell out of it and on to the ground, and heaved at the heavy gate that enclosed the area behind Feet First. For once, the damn thing was padlocked. I growled before flinging my bag up and over the fence, grabbing onto the links with my fingers, and hauling myself up and over it. I had to move pretty quick if I was going to catch up with the drunks and their would-be victim.

I was never one to play the hero, but some things you just didn't let slide.

One of the many things that I love about this Edward is that he doesn't think, he just does. He doesn't hold back either. Anytime Bella is in distress, he comes to her aid. About to be attacked? Here comes Edward. Being yelled at by an ex? Here comes Edward. About to be evicted? Here comes Edward. 

Knowing what she said was absolutely true, and also knowing how few and far between decent jobs were around here, I couldn't really argue with her. The very idea that she would have to give up on her dream so quickly was bad enough, but coupling that with knowing that if she moved back home, I'd probably never see her again was more than I could take.

I didn't think, I didn't consider. I didn't even realize what I was saying.

"Move in with me."

I was never one for impulsiveness, but the words just came out of my mouth.

This last sentence totally cracks me up because he doesn't know himself at all. The boy is all impulse, especially when it comes to Bella. He'll do anything for her. That doesn't mean he doessn't have restraint because, boy howdy, he does. He totally wants her but made the dumbest mistake ever early on in their friendship of comparing himself to an older brother, which Bella keeps bringing up. Frankly, I think it's because she wants to jump him, but whatever. 

This isn't my usal cup of tea. It's crass and brash and probably will have loads of MA material, but in the meantime it's pretty mellow on the smut front, and the plot and characters are keeping me coming back for more. 

The ironic thing is that not much has happened. Edward's life (currently) is not all that interesting. He works twice a week, does laundry once a month when he runs out of clothes, walks bella to and from work while making fun of her purse, hangs out with Crazy Alice (who is actually crazy) and smokes. That's about it, but something about the way Savage writes his POV makes all of that so unbelievably interesting. I'm infatuated with this man and dying to know what happens next. I just started it, but word from the author is weekly updates on Fridays. It's seven chapters in thus far and worth the read.

And because I'm a sucker for banter, here's one more. This isn't the best of the best, but I love that he makes fun of her bag. Cracks me up. 

"This is just about it," Bella said as I walked back in. "There are a few more things in the bathroom, but I should be able to fit them in here."

She held up the Beast Bag.

"Well, if I had known we could pack stuff in that thing," I grinned, "I wouldn't have bothered to bring those crates from the bar. Here, let me shove the fridge in there…"

I moved across the floor and wrapped my arms around the front of the refrigerator and acted like I was going to pick it up.

"Don't be ridiculous," Bella sighed, but she also smiled slightly and shook her head at me

Team Jacob Warning. According to Edward, and I believe him, Jake is a douche bag. 

Smut factor: low for now, but it definitlty hits it's M rating with language and violence.

We Are Young

We Are Young by MyLifeandHis
Summary: Destiny doesn't do home visits. I can sit and chit chat with Bella, flirting with her on my balcony all I want to, but am I actually going for it?


Um, so I made this banner because there wasn't one, and I'm weird like that. Oh well. I just hope the author doesn't think I'm a crazed stalker, or whatever.

So I read this story (all 8 chapters so far) in one sitting today. I know. Another WIP. What is wrong with me?! That's rhetorical. Don't answer it. Anyway, loved every second of it.

MyLifeandHis captures realism and puts it on paper, or rather, my computer screen. And I love her for it.

Edward is a young college student, trying to make ends meet on his own. His mother died when he was 12, and his uncle, who was his guardian, disappeared after he graduated high school. He's lonely, but he does enjoy watching Bella at his old high school from his seat at the bus stop (that's what the photo above reminded me of). He likes her, thinks she gorgeous, but has no clue about girls. So when she shows up downstairs below his balcony while he's hanging his jeans out to dry, he doesn't know what to say. And this comes out . . .

"Uh, thanks. My p-pants are wet. I mean, I didn't wet them. They're wet. It's laundry day. I don't even have clean underwear on. I mean, I'm not wearing underwear. Because it's laundry day. Shit."


And I completely fall head over heels for him.

He's a lit major and knows things about The Great Gatsby and helps Bella with her her essay and gah! I adore him. He's innocnet and aorable and so sweet to Bella. He truly cares about her.

Bella is quite the character too -- not your cliched bumbling, wide-eyed, virgin. She's lived life. She's a little wild and looking for someone to care for her (maybe), but trusts no one. So much so that it's tattooed on her skin -- which Edward gets to see in a daring game of I'll show you mine if you show me yours. Edward bares his tatoo too, which reads 'Go on and wonder' (a Faulkner quote).

And I do. I wonder so freaking much. Like when is this awesome story going to update?!

Now go start it! And tell her I sent you and give her some love. This fic is totally under appreciated. And I must give thanks to @whatsmynom for reccing it this morning on twitter while I was sick in bed.

Below is a slice of heaven from Chapter 6 . . .

"What are you working on?" I wipe my sweaty palms discreetly on the legs of my jeans, noticing too late that there's a stain on the left thigh.

"Umm, just a fucking assignment for class. It's pretty much do or die at this point in the game, and I'm realizing I screwed around too much. I have to get, like, a kickass grade on this paper, or I'm fucked."

I stare at her lips, trying to figure out how the word fuck is suddenly sexy to me, and she looks away. "You're acting weird again," she whispers.

"Sorry." I snap out of my trance. "Just trying to figure out how you got such a filthy mouth." I grin, trying to lighten the mood and look down, taking a drink of my soda. "So it's a paper on The Great Gatsby. Big deal. That's cake, right?"

Bella snorts. "Maybe for a genius like you." She pulls up her notebook, reviewing the last few sentences she's written and begins to cross one of them out immediately.

"Stop," I say and cover her hand with my own. "Can I take a look?"

"Sure."

I take the notebook and a Xeroxed sheet of paper that looks like it's been crumpled and then pressed out, reviewing the assignment and some of her writing. My literature-soaked brain latches on to the task, something easier than trying to make small talk, and I launch into a series of babble. "This is so easy. You can totally do this. You're spot on with this sentence, but here, let me find something he says in the book ... here, this paragraph. Expand on that part, and you're good." But then I realize Bella is staring at me like I've grown a second head, so I shut up and hand the books back to her. "Sorry. You didn't ask for help."

"No, it's not that. I mean, you're so good at this shit. How the hell do you remember reading this?"

I flush but force myself to hold her gaze. "I'm a Literature major. I kind of want to teach, like, this exact thing." We both grin at each other. I'm assessing the bizarreness of the situation, and she's likely assessing my weirdness level at the moment. "Anyway, if you want help, I'm your guy."

"Yes! Please. I mean, it's not every fucking day you run into a Literature major when you're having literature troubles." She laughs for a second, and then I realize she's nervous.

Wanting more than anything to put her at ease, I gently take the notebook from her hands yet again and begin to explain how The Great Gatsby has a recurring theme of honesty and trust issues.

"So look, Gatsby himself says 'I am one of the few honest people that I have ever known', but the entire story is about how he basically fabricates a life that isn't his with things that aren't his, possessions that aren't his ... all to get the girl. He truly believes he's an honest person, but who can actually trust him? No one. So, if we read this book and only this book, are we to assume that humans are inherently dishonest? I would say yes. It's my personal opinion, but that's how I feel. The way Fitzgerald portrays the human race is ... I don't know. It's almost disturbing how disreputable all of his characters are. Does that make sense?"

I look over at Bella, and she's staring at me pretty much how I've been staring at her for the past few years. It's not uncomfortable. It feels good, and I bask in her gaze while she blinks a few times before responding.

"Yeah, it makes total fucking sense. I'm sure he talked about all that in class. But he probably didn't explain it as well as you just did. Thanks. I mean it, Edward. I was panicking over this shit before you came out here, and now I think I can fucking do this. Thank you."

Her eyes are still so intent I have to look away for a second, and I take a deep breath. "Anytime," I say, meeting her gaze again. "I'm always around."

We work side by side on her essay for the next few hours until she's come up with something she's pretty sure she can go home and type out before turning it in tomorrow. And then ... we just sit there together on my fire escape. She watches the moon come out while I watch its reflection glint off her long, dark hair, and I talk about books I'm currently reading before she tries to explain the latest cool songs to me.

Bella loves music like I love to read. She says she can get lost in a song, the rhythm and lyrics swallowing her whole wherever she sits. I think I could get lost in Bella.

Hardcover Paranormal Romance

Hardcover Paranormal Romance by Badjujube

Work In Progress!

Yes, I'm breaking my rule and writing a review for a work in progress. It's that good, and I don't want you to miss out on it. Hardcover Paranormal Romance is about Vampward working at a bookstore with Bella, who loves vampires but doesn't like Edward because he's a jerk (and she doesn't know he's a vampire). Intrigued yet? I am! Edward is an idiot to put it lightly. And no one writes idiot Edward like Badjujube.

Edward is rude to Bella from the start and then falls for her and doesn't know how to dig himself out of his hole, so he slogs his way through awkward conversation and gaping and longing. And it's so entertaining to read about. He's adorable in his dorkiness. Here's a sample for you to chew on before you open it up and devour all ten chapters in an hour.

From Chapter 10:

I would love to tell you that there was a tender, we-almost-kissed moment when I dropped Bella off at home, but what really happened is that right as I was going to wake her up my phone rang and, of course, it was on ultra loud and Emmett had programmed it to play some obnoxious song. Bella woke with a start, wiped some (adorable) drool off of her face and scrambled over herself to get out of the Volvo.

I jump out of the car, follow her to the door and manage to catch her before she gets inside. It was only because she was a little drunk and fumbling for her keys and I am a speedy vampire, to be honest.

She got the door open and then turned to thank me. I did that pointed "looking over her shoulder into the house thing," hoping to snare an invite into the Swan abode. I also invaded her space a little bit.

"Um, thank you for the ride, Edward," she says, her eyes flickering up to me self-consciously. In a move that I really hope was smooth and not creepy, I leaned forward with my hand on the doorframe.

"Anytime, Bella," I say, smiling down at her. She stares into my eyes for a second and then looks away awkwardly.

"Yeah, uh, thanks again," she says, and slips into the house and closes the door. I stare at the door for a minute, wondering exactly where I went wrong with my vibe.

I'm figuring the only way to figure out why I didn't even get a "Would you like to come in for coffee?" is to ask my family. But then I think about the wooing histories of my family, which pretty much consisted of "I just turned you into a vampire. Wanna make out?" coupled with some, "Oh, shit. I'm a vampire. Yeah, that sounds cool."

Then I think of Angela. Sweet, smart, best friend I've ever had that doesn't drink blood Angela. Perfect.

I manage to run the whole thing down for Angela the next day before Bella comes in, leaving out the parts that make it sound like I sabotaged Bella's relationship with the scumbag or that I'm a vampire.

Angela looks at me with tenderness when I get finished. But, she's thinking I'm a little bit dense.

"So you're asking me why Bella didn't catch on that you were trying to get closer to her?" Angela asks me. I nod. Angela takes a deep breath and tries to think of nice ways to tell me that she thinks I'm a little dense.

"I think you have to be patient," Angela says. "You have been…kind of a jerk to her. I know you like her now, but most people just can't change gears that fast, Edward. I'm sure she has no idea that you like her."

"Oh," I say, contemplating ways to let Bella know that I like her that don't involve me embarrassing myself if she doesn't like me. The first one I can think of is having Angela ask her.

Angela doesn't think that's a good idea, needless to say. She suggests that it might come off a little immature.

"I think your best plan is just to continue not being mean to her and see what happens," Angela says. "I think you need to give her some time to adjust to the nice version of you before you start…talking about her inviting you in for…coffee."

Angela says it as if coffee is a euphemism for something that isn't coffee. Then, listening to her thoughts, I realize that it is a euphemism for something that isn't coffee. In my defense, I haven't ever had coffee. Or that.

Dear Mr. Masen

Dear Mr. Masen by Jenndonna
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6483877/1/Dear_Mr_Masen
http://dearmrmasen.blogspot.com/ (teasers and whatnot)
"Error 434: Reprimanding an executive." Life changing or just stupid? Dear Mr. Masen: A story of unauthorized Internet usage, culinary delights and the goings-on at Cullen, Inc. AH, ExB.

My sister was reading this story and raving about it to me. She kept telling me about these emails between Edward and Bella. She kept bursting out into giggles while talking about Jacob who's dubbed "the Mouth Breather" though she would apologize afterwards as though I'd be offended. Sisters are silly. Anyhoo, I recently completed The Cullen Campaign and enjoyed it. There, I discovered that this story, Dear Mr. Masen, was written by the same author belladonna1472, though it's a collaboration with jenndema. I loved the humor so much in The Cullen Campaign that I knew I'd like this piece. And I was right! Jenndonna has a great sense of humor. The comedic timing is spot on, and there are endless amounts of giggles offered in this fic from a sci-fi sick Jacob to a so-cute-Bella's-afraid-she'll-pee-her-pants-in-front-of-him Carlisle.

The author weaves a tale with an actual plot. A what? you say. No, really. There's a plot, and it's not about sex. Whoobiewhatttienow? I know. It's confusing, isn't it? But here's the rundown: Bella's a chef by trade but can't find a job so she turns to Cullen Inc's IT department where she bumps into Edward when she has to reprimand him for personal Internet use during his working hours. The two start up an email relationship complete with recipes, bad date experiences, and loads of misunderstandings. When Bella offends Edward and Edward offends Bella, they finally meet and voila - a story of getting to know you and romance ensues. Hooray!

This story is rated M but other than the two F bombs that I saw, if that, there's nothing really M about it unless the author plans an all out sex-fest in the chapters to come. Let's hope not because that would be stupid. And I hate stupid fics. It's times like this that I wish FF.net would offer the MA rating because most M rated fics are really MA, but in this case it's actually M I guess due to the stories about masturbaters doing their business while kissing Bella. Ew!

Now I know I've broken the carnal rule of not reviewing WIP, but I simply can't help it. This one is a must if you need something for your funny bone.

Now get the Frick out of here and read it. See how I did that there? The clever use of the word Frick? Yeah, well Frick you too. I crack myself up.

Team Jacob safe if you have a sense of humor.

A Pound of Flesh

A Pound of Flesh by Jaxon22

To pay a debt she owes her father, Isabella Swan starts a new job as a prison tutor. Edward Cullen, with his own debts, is the Punk Ass inmate in her class. Can they fight the odds and their dangerous attraction to learn from each other? A/H, Lemons, OOC

This fic is not complete. It is a work in progress, and I am recommending it. I am breaking the rules. I'm not normally a rule breaker (I think that's possibly the funniest thing I've ever written), but I feel I must. This fic is that good. So good, in fact, that if Bella turns out to be an alien and Edward is a pedophile and Jake is a clown in a circus, it doesn't matter because what's written now is worth it. Seriously!

Bella's father (a do-gooder and idealist politician) is beaten to death on the streets when she is a very young girl. A boy she doesn't know pulls her out of harm's way and essentially saves her life from the gang that kills her father. When the police arrive, the boy disappears and Bella is told her whole life that no such boy was there, but she knows he was. One guess who that boy is? Nope, not gonna tell you.

Later is life, Bella becomes a teacher to do good in the world just like her father. She begins teaching prisoners at Author Kill where she meets the angry, impulsive, sexy as hell Cullen. Sparks fly. Fly, I tell you. This Bella is no mouse, she meets him challenge for challenge. He does not scare her. In an attempt to improve his chances for parole, he is tutored  (one on one) by Bella and an UST friendship evolves. Cullen is no moron. He comes from money and an amazing education, making him all the more sexy and an equal for Bella.

Will Cullen get out of prison? Will he and Bella realize who the other truly is? Will there be a romance? Will they kill each other? And for the love of Pete will these two ever bang?

Now I am not one for mindless smut. I don't read fics for smut alone, but I don't mind it. If it offers plot development and character development then I am game. But I can tell you - I have never been more hungrier for a pair of fic characters to get it on than in this fic. The author SophieJax tells her readers that it's a slow burn. And oh boy is it. It's an amazing hurts-so-good-I-wanna-die good.

This fic offers angst, romance, humor, drama, literary commentary, Cullen reading Hemingway (I know) Cullen smoking, Cullen licking the cream off of Oreos, Cullen saying things like, "Just one taste," Cullen throwing chairs and punching people and screaming and yelling and I want him, want him, want him, WANT HIM!!!

You have to read this fic. You have to or will die. I hex you if you don't read it.

Team Jacob safe so far.

Here is an amazing fan video of this fic. Enjoy!