I hope my words become the spring sunshine that melts the ice of survival mode, letting your inner child finally step out of that preserved moment and into the warmth of now, where healing and joy dance together like old friends.

I want my stories to be the safe place where that younger version of you realizes they don't have to stay frozen anymore—that they can stretch, age, laugh, play, and become who they were always meant to be before time crystallized around them.

I dream of them being the key that unlocks not just healing, but the permission to continue growing from exactly where you paused, to let the clock start ticking again in those rooms of your heart where it's been forever 3 PM on that particularly difficult Tuesday.

I want my words to be the gentle thaw, the whispered "It's okay, time can move forward now. You can move forward now."

They say to write what you know. But maybe, just maybe, I can write what I wish to know. What I hope to feel. What I fight to become.

A story that shows the strength it takes to survive the darkest nights and still believe the dawn will come. A story where the scars don’t define me but remind me of what I’ve overcome.

I want to write the life I deserve—the one I’ve dreamed of but never dared to believe could be real. More than that, I want to write the happy ending I’ve earned. Not a fantasy, not an escape, but a triumph.

I want to write about hope so strong it drowns out the echoes of despair.
I want to create a world where love doesn’t hurt and trust isn’t broken. I want to imagine a life where happiness isn’t fleeting, where it stays, where it belongs.

I don’t want to write about those things. I don’t want to give my pain the power to define me on the page. I want to break free from it, to rise above the weight of all I’ve endured. I want to write about joy so pure it feels like sunlight warming my skin.

Your kindness.
Your peace.
Your identity.

And slowly, it consumes you.
It takes root in the cracks of your pain, growing until there’s nothing left but the rage.
The bitterness.
The emptiness.

Until hate is all you know.
Until hate is all you are.

Hate.
It’s a dangerous force, creeping into your soul like a slow, insidious poison.
It corrodes everything in its path—every ounce of goodness, every glimmer of light.
And before you realize it, it’s changing you.
Stripping you of the things that once made you whole.

You grasp it with trembling hands, desperate to feel anything but weakness.
You clutch it tightly, refusing to let go—because you can’t.
Because the thought of being weak again is unbearable.

Dark Hearts Series by Jagger Cole! There’s 6 books in total. All of the books are Dark Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romances. I’d say it’s about a 4.5/5 spice level! Read the trigger warnings first.

Thanks for the support! It means a lot!

Picked it up at a thrift store! It was published in the 90’s.