Author: Harloe Rae



For smacking a lofty goal on the ass and saying, “I’ve got this.”


Also, to those looking for an escape in whatever shape or form that might take.



“It Only Gets Better” | WILD

“Please Notice” | Christian Leave

“Falling” | Harry Styles

“What a Time” | Julia Michaels, Niall Horan

“Trying My Best” | Anson Seabra

“Birthday Cake” | Dylan Conrique

“A Little Bit Yours” | JP Saxe

“Is It Just Me?” | Emily Burns

“Lease On Life” | Andy Grammar

“I’m With You” | Vance Joy

“Chasing Stars” | Alesso, Marshmello, James Bay

“Girl” | SYML

“All the Pretty Girls” | KALEO

“Crystals” | Of Monsters and Men

“Flashed Junk Mind” | Milky Chance

“Fire and the Flood” | Vance Joy

“Need the Sun to Break” | James Bay

“Happiest Year” | Jaymes Young

“I Guess I’m in Love” | Clinton Kane


Listen on Spotify!



“It’s an interesting tale about how the princess rejects her riches and flies free from the castle.”

My story isn’t quite so glamorous.

Well, not the part worth telling.


After my parents tried marrying me off to the wealthiest investor, I ditched their sheltered nest and set off with my own agenda.

This summer is my chance to begin again.

Fulfill the dreams that were previously ignored.

The adventure starts at a secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere.


That’s where I find him avoiding civilization.


Nash Hudson is a broody recluse holding a major grudge.

With stormy eyes and a perpetual scowl to match, his dark mood tries to steal my sunshine.

I take his hostility personally, only to discover he doesn’t like anyone.


Little does he realize that my stubborn streak rivals his.


As it turns out, Nash is the tortured hero my love story is missing.

Too bad he’s very reluctant to fill that role.

Thanks to a little luck—or a strike of lightning—he’s forced to face me.


I’ll break down his walls as if this soul searching depends on it.

Or maybe I’ll end up getting lost in him instead.



“What appears to be broken might’ve stumbled on purpose.”—Nash Hudson


“It wasn’t my intention to get lost, but that’s where I found myself.”—Penny Blaire



The pressure crushing my chest threatens to level me, but that doesn’t stop the announcement from breaking free. “I’m leaving on Monday.”

My father—the mighty Alastair Theodore Winchester—places his cutlery down with methodical grace. The deceptively calm motion has my posture immediately going ramrod straight on reflex. There’s not a speck of food on his face, yet he takes an extended minute to wipe his mouth with a pristine cloth napkin. This move further instills his deliberate and calculating control over the room. My knees quake under the table while discomfort pinches at me.

Finally, after what feels like an hour, my father lifts his steely gaze to mine. “Pardon?”

Interrupting our meal with idle chatter is forbidden. Too bad for Daddy Dearest, I quit following his rigid rules months ago. That doesn’t shrink the lump in my throat, though. “I’m moving out. Permanently.”

His stony expression doesn’t so much as flicker. “That’s almost amusing.”

“I’m serious.” It’s a feat to squash the petulant whine that demands escape.

My father stares at me as if I’m a mere blip on his radar. “We’ve already discussed this, Penelope. You’re scheduled to study abroad this summer.”

I blink with concrete coating my lashes. What he thinks I’ll be studying while stranded overseas is an unknown I don’t care to venture into. Besides, I just graduated with a joint degree in communications and marketing. It’s a small miracle that my overbearing parents allowed me to attend college, not to mention actually finish.

With more courage than I’ve ever managed to scrounge up, I return his unwavering focus with a determined glare. “I’m taking a trip, yes. But somewhere I chose on my own.”

At this point, my mother offers a low tsk. The fact she willingly cracked her dutiful silence screams volumes. “Listen to your father, Penelope. Venice is gorgeous this time of year, and you’ve never been. You’ll be happy to get away for a few months.”

“Yes, I certainly will.” I’m nodding too fast and jerk the robotic motion to a sudden halt. “That’s what I’m telling you. My flight takes off early Monday morning. I’ll be gone until mid-August.”

She sniffs and reaches for her wine glass. “I’m afraid to ask where you’re planning to go.”

“Then don’t bother,” I snip.

“Penelope.” Reprimand is thick in my father’s tone.

Fire singes my cheeks at the scold fit for a rotten toddler. “I found a cabin to rent. It’s secluded and safe and small. Just right for me.”

My mother waits, her lips pinching tighter with each passing second. “Must I drag each detail from you?”

The urge to roll my eyes twitches my left lid. “Must you know my whereabouts at all times?”

A resounding smack against the polished wood table makes me jolt upright. When my gaze swings to the man responsible, I find him seething. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble by disrupting our dinner? You forget your place, daughter.”

The reminder is wholly unnecessary since his demeaning beliefs are permanently etched on my skull. I’ll never be an equal in this archaic environment. That’s just one more reason why I’m leaving. My older brothers didn’t suffer this unrelenting hold from our father. They were allowed to do whatever their reckless spirits desired.

Me? I’ve been trapped since conception. I’m little more than a bargaining chip, with no wiggle room to speak of. It’s no wonder I’m chomping at the bit to shed this sheltered existence. I’m nearly twenty-two, but have less control than most toddlers. That’s about to change in three short days. They no longer have the power to control me.

“Let’s pretend I didn’t mention anything. The food is getting cold.” Not that it matters. The meager portion on my plate will remain untouched.

My mother makes another disapproving noise in the back of her throat. “So you can disappear into the night without a trace again? I think not.”

“Whose fault was that?” Just swerving close to that memory makes my skin crawl. It’s been months, yet the betrayal feels like a fresh wound leaving me raw. I was expected to accept my fate with a grateful smile.

“We’ve already taken the blame for that… oversight.” The last word seems torn from my father’s steel trap. It still pains him to admit defeat.

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