Beginning where Bella slaps Paul in the NM movie, it’s written in first/third person, and this woman can write! Her characters are alive on the page.
You’ll laugh and cry and ‘aww’ and ‘squick’ (not in that particular order).
There is a scene where Paul is demonstrating fighting techniques that… omg I reread it over and over. It was like nothing I’ve read before.
It’s a WIP, and she’s updating approximately weekly… and I’m checking my inbox daily, just in case…

The phone rang and broke up the beginning of our giggling wrestling match.

“Hello?” Jake answered the phone next to our bedside. I wondered briefly who it could be as hardly anyone ever called us on the house phone, except for Charlie and Billy.

And Sam.

Jake’s expression froze on his face and he sat bolt upright. My heart started pounding instinctually at his reaction.

Before hanging up the phone, Jake choked out, “I’ll be right there.”

“I hope I can still do this shit,” he murmured, jumping up from the bed. He looked confused, looking back and forth and starting to remove his shirt, then stopping as he realized he was naked already.

“What’s going on Jacob?” I was panicking.

He looked at me blankly for a moment and then blinked dazedly a couple times.

“Vampires,” he breathed. “On our lands. They think there’s five of them. Maybe more.”

“I’ve got to go,” he said, heading for the door. I grabbed my robe from my closet and ran after him down the hallway toward the front door.

We were renting a small cottage not far from my dad’s house in Forks. We rented from a wealthy family who owned the land and a much larger house on their 1,000 acre plot. Luckily we were pretty secluded here, and no one saw my naked husband run out the door and freeze in his tracks.

I almost ran into his back when he stopped so suddenly. He turned to face me.

“I don’t know if I can still do it,” he whispered to me in a panic. “I don’t know if I remember how.”

I grabbed him by the shoulders. “You can do this. Look at me.”

He moved his glazed stare from somewhere in the distance to my eyes.

“Remember when I wanted to be one of them? Remember when I was going to let Edward – no, remember when I begged Edward to bite me and make me one of them?”

I felt his shoulders start trembling under my hands. I heard his breathing hitch and his jaw hardened.

“Remember what they felt like? Cold and hard and dead. They wanted to drink my blood. They fought against their basic nature to rip my throat open and suck the life right out of me.”

He was almost there, I could feel it. “Remember what they smelled like?”

It was working. His body began quaking and he threw me back away from him so hard, I hit the ground as he took off running toward the trees. I looked up just in time to see him leap into the air and explode, as a giant russet colored wolf took his place.

“Beautifully written, has you constantly on edge and it as sweet as apple pie baked on the stomach of a hot werewolf.
The struggle Leah has to face between the love of her life and her so-called imprint is intense; sacrifices are made and passions run wild. This fic has enough drama and action doses to be an absolutely treat.”

The bushes just beyond our yard were moving. And there was no wind blowing outside. In fact, it had been cold today but clear, so there was not a cloud in the sky which allowed the moon to shine brightly, lighting up the yard and the forest beyond.

Hello Grandma, what big eyes you have.

There was a wolf in my backyard. A massive, shaggy red wolf, staring right up at my window. Jacob Black! I didn’t know if he could see me in the darkened room, I wasn’t sure just how sharp his werewolf eyes were, but he turned around and began to dart back into the trees.

No! I jumped up from my bed and ran full-board down the stairs, only skidding down three steps, but landing on my feet without stopping at the fourth. Through the kitchen, flinging the back door open I heard it bang against the wall as I ran barefoot over the grass and brambles and into the trees beyond my yard.
I ran blindly into the bushes and tripped, jumping up immediately as a figure materialized 10 feet in front of me.

“Jesus Christ Bella, you should know better than to run out here alone at night! What the hell is wrong with you?”

I started to answer him but my eyes widened as I realized Jacob was buck naked. So instead I very impolitely gawked and stared. But it didn’t seem to faze Jacob; in fact, I saw the corner of his lip twitching very irritatingly.

“What’s the matter Bella?” he asked me innocently.

“Jacob!” I hissed. “You’re naked!”

“You see something new you missed the other night?”

“Jacob,” I forced myself to look away. “Put some clothes on please.”

“Okay Bells, if that’ll make you feel better. No peeking now,” he snorted, wagging his finger at me. He side-stepped behind the holly bush and unhooked his shorts from the elastic around his ankle and pulled them on.

Once his shorts were in place, he strode over to me.

“Why haven’t you called me?” I demanded.

He shrugged. “Why haven’t you called me?”

I didn’t have an answer to that. Not one that I cared to share with him. That I wanted him to come to me. That I was used to him coming to me. There was a very specific dynamic that Jacob and I had, and he was the pursuer and…..I had to admit, I liked it that way.

But this was the new Bella; and Jacob and I needed a new dynamic if things between us were going to be different.

Cullen’s defensive instincts kicked in: he took a few steps back and squatted, ready to strike. I jumped over him and disappeared into the forest. I hated leaving Bella at the house, yet I forced myself to run, fuelled by anger at Cullen and by the possibility that he was right. I couldn’t live without her. But would she choose to live without me one day? If Bella moved to the Rez, there wouldn’t be much for her to do there. Her talent and her ambitions would wither away, leaving only a shell of the Bella she used to be before we… Bonded? Became mates? Connected? Fuck, I didn’t even know what to call it. I was a kite floating high in the sky and Bella held the string. If she let go, I would crash and lay broken until she picked me up and fixed me.

I headed west, aiming for the cliffs. The ebb and flow of the crashing tide had always been a source of comfort, a proof that certain things remain constant. As I zigzagged between the trees, I picked up a scent that made my stomach turn. It reminded me of the cheap flowery perfumes they sell in low-end stores – and of Cullen. My instincts recognized the enemy’s smell right away. I couldn’t go back until I had found the source of the stench and destroyed it.

But the scent was fickle. It would travel on an eastern breeze for while, then fade away until it hit me again. It floated away and disappeared, only to burn my nostrils a few minutes later. I sniffed every tree, every rock along the way. But the smell wasn’t clinging to anything in particular. Where the hell was it hiding? Its elusiveness was maddening. The thought of one of those creatures being so close to us terrified me. But the thought that I was the only one who had the strength to defeat it was even more terrifying. No margin for error, no second chances.

I hunted the vampire for a long time, never seeing or hearing anything, only following its disgusting smell. Eventually, the breeze died down and the scent vanished. It was time for me to go home.

My car was parked in the driveway. Bella had left a pair of shorts for me on the porch. I found her sitting on the couch with Beta, reading a book while scratching the dog’s head, pretending she hadn’t heard me come in. Her rigid posture and set jaw contradicted the domestic picture she had tried to paint. She dominated the space like a dormant volcano.

Bella didn’t look up from her book. “I figured our dinner date was cancelled, so I ate with the Cullen’s. Esme sent some leftovers. They’re in the oven.”

This story is part of the Fandom Gives Back Autism Fundraiser

Some Kind of Special

Abee, Steve

Adams, Douglas

Albee, Edward

Atwood, Margaret

Atwood, Russel

Auster, Paul

Her father’s bookshelf was perfect. Everything was in order. It gave her nothing to do. She contemplated resorting them by color: red, blue, brown. Her fingers itched to start, but her father wouldn’t like that. He liked it the way it was. Nothing out of place – just the way he liked everything. And she was the obsessive one… she snorted out loud before she could control it and whipped her hand to her face. It had been a laugh, but her mother would hear it as another outburst, another noise she couldn’t control, and there was already enough her mother was upset about.

Halderman, Joe

Halperin, Timothy

“I can’t keep doing this alone!” her mother hissed.

alone… drone… phone… cone… zone…

“I’ve tried that…” the exasperated woman cried.

Irving, John

Jin, Ha

“Renesmee .” Her thoughts were interrupted; she would have to begin again…

Abee, Steve

Adams, Douglas

Albee, Edward

“Renesmee !”

Atwood, Margaret

Atwood, Russel

“Renesmee Carlie Cullen!” A firm hand gripped her arm, pulling her out of her thoughts. Her mother’s cool fingers tried to remind her to focus, to reign in her attention, but all it accomplished was to make her recoil from the touch.

The struggle was constant, the fleeting ability to situate her mind in the reality others existed in. But she knew the truth; this reality, the one they try to box her into, it was flat. In her mind, there were words with smiles and colors that grew.

She pulled her hand up and tapped her mother’s arm before looking up. Look in her eyes, look in her eyes. She was already in trouble; she had to make herself do this look at her eyebrows… that’s easier.

Her mother’s worried face relaxed when Renesmee met her gaze. “Honey, come sit down, please.” An arm was extended, and Renesmee steadied herself for the contact, dreading the necessary touch that her mother thought soothed her.

She closed her eyes and breathed out loudly, emitting a low moan that ended with a grunt.

“Bella, leave the girl be.” Her father had given up long ago; Renesmee would never be normal. She would always be “special.”

So special that she didn’t have any friends.

So special that she’d gotten kicked out of school… again.

So special that she was alone, locked inside her head.

The words she wanted to say usually choked her before they were able to escape, her own specialness betraying her every attempt to fit in.

Renesmee didn’t want to be special.

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