Klipsch Nashville

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.

"He knew me from the moment I stepped through the broken window.Studying me.Watching me.Changing me.I was unaware of him at first; my life was too out of control to notice. The constant moving and lack of money after Mom divorced Dad was turning her into a different person. All she did was drink and she was now this angry person I didn't want to know.But once I stepped through the window inside that house, I could feel the peace surrounding me. Hugging my body as if it had arms. Protecting me. Loving me. It was like the house knew what I craved and it felt too good to question any of it. So I went back, day after day. I hungrily guzzled up the euphoria like a raging alcoholic, reaching for another drink.Just like my mother…Atticus is created by Leslie Fear, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author."

Everyone in the circle called me the chatty woman around Wilson Lewis, who had poor hearing and was notoriously aloof. I would stand up for him, take drinks on his behalf, and accompany him to the hospital. When he had to get his hearing aid adjusted, I would crouch beside the table to replace its batteries for him, yet he never so much as looked up at me. One time, I drank on his behalf until I was dead drunk at a wine party, but he only glanced down at me calmly. Another time, I spent the entire morning waiting with him on the day of his follow-up checkup, but he texted his unattainable love, Noelle Surrey, instead. Wilson: [Have you eaten lunch yet?] During our three years of marriage, I became a joke in the eyes of others. On the night of our wedding anniversary, he wanted to make things up for the birthday celebration he owed me. When I was being dragged away through the back alley of a convenience store, I saw him sitting in the Maybach parked at the alley entrance through the half-open car window, unboxing a cake. I screamed until my throat bled, my fingernails digging into the wall. He glanced up at the alleyway entrance, took off his hearing aid, and put it in his pocket. When I got home in the wee hours, he was still helping Noelle with her resume. Seeing my disheveled state, he just frowned and said, "Jaclyn Scott, can you please stop making such a scene every time?" Noelle chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Wilson, is she playing victim again?" I pushed the divorce papers and a USB drive in front of him. "Wilson, I'm done making a scene. This time, it's your turn to listen."

Jesse is an indie-band producer, a hedonistic ass, and a cynic. He doesn't believe in the idea of love and romance. For him it was all about clinical sex, small talks over cigarettes, and detached one-night stands. Everything was less about connection and more about hooking-up. And then he meets K. The beautiful, mysterious and dangerously alluring K. There was just something about K that pulled him to her. Challenged and charmed, Jesse goes on to pursue her. They get into an unlikely relationship, that pushes both their emotional, psychological and physical boundaries. ********************************************** 'K.' tells us the story of a young adult in New York, who use dating apps to meet others for fun with no strings attached. It will soon develop to another direction, as the protagonist evolves - both psychologically and emotionally.

In the quiet, watchful town of Willow Creek, nineteen-year-old Rihanna has learned that loving too loudly is dangerous. Once betrayed by her first love and turned into a subject of gossip, she has spent a year and a half building walls around her heart. She is vibrant, outspoken, and endlessly warm—but in a town that mistakes kindness for weakness, she is labeled as someone unworthy of being chosen. When a pandemic lockdown brings an unexpected message from Dennis, the wealthy boy she has admired from afar her entire life, Rihanna allows herself to hope again. What begins as playful late-night conversations and secret meetings soon grows into something far more fragile and intense. Dennis sees her in ways no one ever has—but he is also bound by fear, reputation, and a need for control that clashes with Rihanna’s free-spirited nature. As their connection deepens, Rihanna is forced into her own survival game: choosing between shrinking herself to fit someone else’s expectations or standing fully in who she is, even if it means losing love. When Dennis offers her only something casual, she must confront the truth about what she deserves—and whether she is willing to risk her heart again. *Almost Yours* is a story about emotional survival, self-worth, and the courage it takes to grow beyond heartbreak. In a world that demands women make themselves smaller to be loved, Rihanna’s journey asks a powerful question: when love returns, will she choose it—or herself?

When I hand in my resignation and pack up my things, I make sure to box up my 100,000 dollars' worth of camera equipment. However, my colleague Reed Lanrod, an intern who joined the company after me, immediately throws a tantrum. "What are we supposed to use if you take all that equipment with you? You're already leaving, and you're still leeching off the company? That's not right!" I keep my cool and patiently explain, "I bought every single piece of this gear with my own money. It's got nothing to do with the company." Reed, who's been eyeing my equipment for the longest time, storms off. Not long after, the boss, Karen Halfpenny, calls me into her office. "You've been keeping the equipment in our office, so it's been using our electricity and taking up our office space. That makes it company property. You're not taking a single item with you." I can't help but laugh at the sheer audacity. When I first joined the company, Karen told me to treat the company like home. So, to get the job done right, I gradually spent 100,000 dollars of my own money to buy camera equipment and store it at the office. Now she's calling it company property? Fine. I immediately call the IRS and report the company for tax evasion and fraud. They insist the 100,000-dollar setup is theirs, yet they've never paid a single cent of tax on it. In that case, let's see what the IRS agents think about that.