Summary: High School Fictional. No one sends Bella into a tailspin quite like Edward Cullen... but can she make him hers? The ups and downs and all arounds.
Now, anyone that knows me really well will know that my favourite types of stories are those doused in angst – the ones that cause heartache and tears. I’m somewhat of an emotional masochist, so it’s rare that I fall in love with a fic that is mostly free of this. But after reading the first chapter of Starry Eyed Inside, I knew I’d be sticking around. Indefinitely.
I was late to the game when it came to Rochelle Allison and her stories. I’d heard murmurs here and there, but as my ‘to read’ list was - and still is - seemingly never-ending, it took me a while to get around to reading. Needless to say I kicked myself for not checking things out sooner. And the fact that this story was also based in high school – another huge favourite of mine – well... I kicked myself harder.
I started reading SEI around three chapters in, devoured them in no time at all and immediately became impatient for more.
Rochelle has a very unique style of writing that draws you in from the get go. Her words capture that essence of teenage love and admiration that I know I experienced myself at that age, which is one of the main things I love about this story.
The story, told from Bella’s point of view throughout, starts with her explaining her feelings about love, more so for the boy who has her ‘Starry Eyed’ – Edward. It follows the two through high school and beyond: separations, military school and new boyfriends are just a few of the things that happen along the way. Each chapter left me desperate for the next, and on more than one occasion I stayed up until gone 3am my time zone, knowing that an update would be coming soon.
The dialogue is natural and that of so many teens in that area. The friendships between Rosalie, Alice and Bella are real, as are the scenes they find themselves in throughout. And the relationship between Bella and Edward is so full of all the emotions that make every little anxious flutter and racing pulse worth it, that you’ll not want to stop reading.
Rochelle writes the best kind of love stories, and SEI is no exception. I’d seriously recommend this to anyone who has yet to read, and tell them to do so before they give themselves those proverbial kicks.
I’m positive that once they do, they’ll fall in love just like I, and so many others in the fandom have.
VHL xx
Summary: "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.
This story started, much like a lot of other fics out there, with the two authors goofing around. And then a plot bunny came along, and Jennde (Finding Home) and Belladonna1472 (The Cullen Campaign) couldn’t resist. I am daily thankful that they couldn’t, otherwise we’d be missing one of the funniest, goofiest, and sweetest fics out there.
I mean, what’s not to like?
We have a CFOWard. Wipe from your brain all images of uptight, self-centred, mysterious, dominant and overbearing CEOs and the like in Fanfic Landia. CFOWard is a reclusive, shy, bespectacled numbers man who gets chided via email by the IT underdog (one Isabella Swan, name rings any bells?) for improper internet usage.
His miffed reply starts off our story because, luckily for us, their correspondence does not stop there. Their emailing back and forth gives the story its structure for a good part of the first chapters and this is where the original plot bunny comes into play.
After Bella has recovered from the shock of having given a “time out” to the CFO, they keep up a professionally and politically correct correspondence, and their banter is…just so adorable.
Bit by bit, we’re introduced to the rest of the usual suspects. Any Jake fans out there (are there still any???) will not be pleased to know that Jake is Bella’s supervisor and that, besides being a pervy nerd, his breath has issues that last way beyond the morning hours to the point that it could be used as a new chemical weapon of mass destruction.
What do CFOWard and IT-Ella have in common? They are both shy, a bit reclusive, and they both tend to ramble when they are nervous or flustered. It happens a lot when they get into close contact. Their verbal filter just goes out of commission and they both say the most embarrassing, but goofiest things. Sometimes I don’t know whether I should blush or giggle. I usually settle for a giggle while thinking “He/She didn’t just say that. Wait, He/She did.”
They are both tiptoeing around each other for a number of reasons: non-fraternization policies, coming from different walks of life, their intrinsic shyness, but each of them are slowly, sweetly crawling out of their own shells, because the other beckons them. One blunder at a time, one email at a time, one cute, selfless gesture at a time.
You’ll smile, you’ll giggle, you’ll laugh and you’ll just want to snuggle up with CFOWard after this.
Summary: Trash. Dirty. Filthy. Late nights. Early mornings. Finally open your eyes to see Edward staring back. It's hard to remember to take out the trash when you're a high-class hooker. Do you need help cleaning house? Let the garbage collector do it.
What do you get when you combine a call girl who can’t remember to take out her trash and a group of singing trash collectors? You get Rubbish the newest fic by Belladonnacullen.
After being awoken at the butt crack of dawn by the loud sounds of garbage slinging and singing a call girl remembers she has once again overlooked the taking out of her trash. Gathering her trash quickly she runs after the truck while wearing nothing but a thin robe sans tie. Between the icy cold sleet she embarks upon and her mad dash to catch the trash collectors Perky’s appearance leaves little to the imagination a fact that definitely does not go unnoticed by the trash collectors, one in particular.
His eyes have settled somewhere below my face. I look down. Shit. I forgot all about the robe. I'm wet and it's cold and I'm… perky. And he hasn't paid for the honors. And aside from the goopy green smear on his cheek, he's kind of hot. And young. Way fucking young.
The cans clatter to the ground and I pull the edges of my robe closed vowing to never again use the tie from my robe as a tie for my bedpost. I have special ropes for that, and scarves, and bungee cords, and carabiners…
"Let me take that for you, Perky," he offers with a smirk. I noticed that the orange-gloved hand that grasps the trash can handle is very large. He's like a puppy. Young. Big hands. Big Feet. Adorable.
That is how the story of Perky and Mr. Adorable is born and what happens when you find love in the most unexpected of places.
BelladonnaCullen pulls off this unique premise with style. What could easily have become a groan worthy story instead is campy and kitschy in all the best ways. Delightfully filled with wit and humor Rubbish is just the right amount of light and fluffy with a dash of conflict to keep you interested and wanting to come back for more.
Highly entertaining and updating in real time Rubbish is anything but. Pulling off the near impossible Belldonnacullen makes garbage and the men who collect it sexy.
Come join Perky and Mr. Adorable and his trash singing band The Trash Men for a story that will show you how far some are willing to go for love while also opening your eyes to the world of music about trash. Who knew there were so many songs written about it? I certainly didn’t! Enjoy!
Summary: Brilliant artist Edward is celebrated in the art world, but are trappings of fame also destroying him? In the lust filled world of art-whores & predators, feisty Bella knocks him off his pedestal. Will he realize that she alone has the power to heal him?
Review by: Cullenboyz
Think Rome Rob. Now think Rome Rob/Edward as a fucking brilliant artist/painter in Los Angeles . He's explosive, he's famous and surrounded by art whores, he's… lost.
Enter Bella, who works for Carlisle in his gallery, where she meets Edward. This Bella is confident, but reserved and guarded. Not impressed by the art whores, but girl, please. He’s RomeWard, and he’s a brilliant artist. Catnip. Some fucking hot UST ensues, and when the ST is resolved, look out.
Could be any hot, lemony fic, you say. We all love our favorites, so what’s so special about this one? Read on, my sisters.
Work of Art is written with a kind of vivid realism, beautiful descriptiveness, and powerful emotion that makes it read like a treasured novel. Bella is strong and focused, Edward is intense and painfully flawed, you get some crazy good Alice , Jasper, Emmett, Rose, Esme, Carlisle , JAMES (ew)...
At 60 chapters, WoA is a juggernaut, yet the author paces the story in such a way that it remains fresh and exciting, pulling at our emotions as she alternately leaves us devastated in one chapter, then hopeful and eager for more in the next. I think we’ve all read fics that lose their edge shortly after Edward and Bella finally (ahem) get it on. Not so here, my friends. Partly, this can be attributed to the complexity of their relationship, which continues to evolve in unexpected ways throughout the story. Partly, it can be attributed to the fact that Abstractway knows how to write some crazy hot, emotionally charged lemons, and her imagination seems to know no bounds. Her mother would be appalled, I’m sure. ;-)
Finally, Abstractway sets WoA in the art world with an authenticity born of her own experience there, lending the story a sense of depth and richness that is rare to find. The only other fic I’ve read that can compare to WoA for pure authenticity and beauty of writing is UoEM. The characters, plot and setting have nothing in common, but the sweeping scope, breathtaking settings, authentic voice, and extensive, often painful character development are present in each story.
Oh - and here's what Rose Arcadia had to say: http://tinyurl.com/4e4hmut Cuz she's much more interesting than I am, and she made a kick-ass blinkie. :)
Go, my sisters. Read Work of Art. You’ll be blown away. Also, Rome Rob told me he wants to paint on your naked body in his bed.
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