Hey, guys! So, I know I keep starting stories and not finishing them but writers block has me all torn up and I stopped typing for so long because I was trying to dedicate to those stories but I couldn't. I'm sure as I'm writing this one more ideas will come but I wanted to do a fantasy one because I haven't done one in a long time so here it goes.

Disclaimer: Cassie Clare owns all. Including my soul.

Full summary: After moving to the small town of Serendipity, New Mexico Clary Fray's life seems to be falling exactly into place. She lives in a nice ranch with her best friend and her trusty four-legged companion, Gray. Her art has taken off and is selling amazingly. Her neighbors, albeit nosy, are nothing but sweet and kind. Everything is going great, that is until she's attack by a monster known only to nightmares and saved by a golden-haired hero that shouldn't exist. Clary is thrust into another world hidden within her own and about to see just what dangerous creatures go bump in the night. "All the stories are true."

Home.

She was finally going home.

In truth, she had only been gone three weeks from her small, dot on the map, town of Serendipity but she was relieved to be returning all the same.

Clary ran a hand through her red curls and accidentally bumped her sunglasses in the process. She scrunched her nose as she pushed the wired Aviators back into place with a sigh. She'd had an art exhibit to attend in the city 7 hours away, promoting some more of her pieces and seeing as it was the only thing keeping food in her, Simon –her best friend since she wished to remember— and Gray's, being the dog that she had found on a dark despairing night when she was a young girl, stomachs she couldn't exactly refuse to go. Though apart of her always wished she could.

Not that she didn't absolutely love her art, she did! She loved every moment of her brush touching its canvas. It was like she transported herself into her own Wonderland, where the sky could be pink and the clouds made out of cotton candy. Just like she had always joked when Simon when they were kids. It was her favorite escape and she promised herself she would do it the rest of her life.

If not only to keep her mind at bay but also to feel closer to the mother she had lost.

She sighed again, as she brought another hand to her hair pushing the strands from her face and pulling a few unfortunate pieces from her mouth as she let out a cough. The windows were down allowing Clary to bask in the warm breeze that New Mexico had to offer in its summer season.

When she and Simon had decided to move here from the Big Apple, it had been completely on a whim. She had woke up one morning feeling her usual paranoid self before sitting around the Lewis's large kitchen table grabbing a piece of the newspaper that Elaine Lewis, Simon's beautiful mother and Clary's foster mother turned semi guardian, had discarded. Her eyes had simply skimmed the words Serendipity, New Mexico and right then and there she just decided she HAD to go.

Like part of her belonged there; she remembered a dream vaguely in her mind but the memory was so long ago now that she dismissed it completely. Simon, ever the loyal friend, agreed to go with her. Part of her thought he only really agreed because he hadn't thought she would go through with it in the slightest.

Yet here they were 3 years later still renting out the little farmhouse on the dirt road that lead to nowhere.

Gray whimpered in the seat next to her staring at her with his large, intelligent, soft brown eyes. His hair was beginning to curl together in clumps making him look more mangy than fluffy and she decided that when they got home he would be getting the bath he had been dreading and putting off.

"We're almost home, buddy." Clary said reaching a paint-stained but manicured hand out to brush Gray's ears, scratching his favorite spot as his head dropped and his leg began to twitch. She smiled bringing her eyes back to the open road only a couple more hours until they were back in the comfort of their own home.

Before Clary was back in the comfort of her own home. She didn't know why she felt so unsettled when she wasn't within her own walls. She had never felt the kind of peace she did until she had moved to the little town of Serendipity. Almost like a piece of her was put into place and she feared it would disappear if she was gone too long.

Gray whined again, pushing his wet nose again her arm making her smile as she placed a comforting hand on his head. "Sorry, Gray, you can practically hear my thoughts can't you?" She turned to him and placed a kiss on his head quickly, only swerving slightly. "I'm sorry I'm being such a downer, I don't know why I'm feeling this way. I always feel a bit melancholy when we drive home, don't I?" Gray didn't answer, which was to be expected, he simply stared as if, for some reason, he understood. Clary blinked a moment before turning to the radio, the car flooded with the pulsing of a song that sang about breaking up with a boy and not caring. She smiled when Gray wagged his tail with a bark. "You like that?" She said with a giggle as she pressed the cover to her old convertible top down. "Let's feel some of that breeze huh, buddy."

Gray yipped happily as the top came down completely matting his fur somewhat beyond repair and making her hair into a complete birds nest of red curls.

Simon almost leaped completely from his seat as Clary and Gray came barreling through the doorway. Gray danced around her legs as she chuckled almost falling completely over. Her ocularly impaired friend softly moved past the mutt and took some of the brown bags from Clary's small arms and set them down on the table.

Some of her paintings, that weren't stuffed under her arms, were still propped in her car's trunk but her arms felt like noodles even after the short walk from the dirt driveway to the porch and she knew there would be no way she was going back for them tonight. "Nice, Fray!" Simon said in a voice full of glee, his shirt stated a sarcastic saying against a plain green background. "You brought home pasta!"

Clary nodded with smile as Simon moved to kiss her cheek. "Yup, from the one and only Riga-Toni's." Riga-Toni's was the only Italian restaurant around that wasn't a 7-hour drive to the city. For being the only option for a cheap trip to Paris, the pasta was pretty good.

He smiled as he threaded his fingers together with a childish smile, "And you brought—"

"A slice of Dina's best cheesecake." Clary said with a roll of her eyes as she pulled the pre-packaged slice from another brown bag. It was tradition that whoever passed Dina's Diner on the corner between Harper and Ryan, two of the only busy streets in the small town, had to pick up a slice of her cheesecake. Dina laughed at their tradition and said she promised to always have a sliced pre sliced for them no matter the time, place, or day. And ever since moving there, Dina had kept her word. And because she did her duty, Clary and Simon did theirs.

"Of course! I'm no rookie, Lewis." Clary said with a smirk as she placed Gray's own bowl of pasta down for him. She had tried to feed him dog food for years but he refused to touch the stuff, not that she could exactly blame him. They said human food was bad for dogs but her and Gray had been together for . . . she forgot how long truly and he still seemed like a healthy puppy with his spirit and spunk. So she fed him what he wanted when he wanted it, which was a lot. It was like feeding a grown man!

She placed hers and Simon's food in the microwave as she placed her hands on the back of the marble countertop. Simon leaned against the fridge as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "So how did the gala go?"

"Really well," Clary nodded, her hair was so knotted it barely moved with the motion. "I sold almost all of them."

"Clary, that's great." Simon said in exclamation as she giggled, tucking a particularly annoying curl behind her ear.

She nodded again. "Yeah it is." She frowned for a moment before the microwave let out a loud sound signally their food was warmed. "I just wish I knew who the highest buyer was."

Simon frowned too as he moved a chunk of hair out of his face before grabbing two forks. "Still have no idea about your mystery buyer?"

She sank into her chair like her bones had turned to jello. She crammed her small hand down hard onto her cheek as she sighed. "Not one clue," She accepted the fork Simon handed her with a thank you before she proceeded to spin her noodles around the utensil. "I guess I shouldn't really mess with luck though. Whoever it is makes sure we have food in our stomachs and a roof over our head."

"And makes sure we have 264 different channels of pure alternate reality." Clary narrowed her eyes at Simon who shrugged. "I don't know what I'd do if we didn't have cable and wifi."

She rolled her green eyes up so far into her head she feared, for a moment, that they might never return to their original state. "You'd probably put that computer tech degree of yours to good use, instead of just breaking into World of Warcraft's mainframe so you can steal extra points and get cooler equipment."

Simon let his mouth fall open as he stared into his best friends eyes, betrayal was clear in the way he viewed her and Clary couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Are you insinuating that my pillaging through the intergalactic-"

"More like interweb."

Simon continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Technologic society of codes is time wasted?"

Clary snorted as she shook her head. "Only you could make the word "hacking" sound like a public service."

Simon stared at her in outrage for a moment before dropping the act with a shrug. "What can I say? It's a gift."

Clary tried to keep her laugh at bay before snorting as Gray jumped into the seat next to Simon, causing the man to have quite a fright. He threw the noodles that were on his fork into the air until they landed on the top of Gray's fluffy head, who proceed to eat them without a moments hesitation.

Clary stood in her mirror for another second as she tilted her head to the side. Her thick and full hair fell over her shoulder, curls in absolute disarray still from the car ride home. In the full length mirror in front of her hung a picture of a woman so beautiful, it might have been painted from a man's inner fantasy. Gleaming with the clearest green eyes Clary had ever seen, smiled her mother. With red hair that tumbled around her shoulders in shining curls and eyelashes that brushed the tops of her thick eyebrows, Clary knew her mother had been a sight to see in the flesh.

The photo was worn a bit, it had been with her for over 18 years and had survived the worst of adolescence, but it was folded and creased with love. It was the most important thing she owned aside from the ring that sat on her finger, which also belonged to her mother.

Clary could remember some things about her through her foggy, sticky fingered, childish memories; like how her mother smelled of lilies and fabric softener and how her curls had felt against her cheeks. She remembered watching her paint for hours, watching as a world that existed only in her mind appeared on the canvas before them.

She supposed she looked like her mother a bit. They definitely had the same uncontrollable red hair, but Clary's was far too overgrown. Going all the way down to the middle of her back, it flowed everywhere with a mind of it's own. She couldn't even remember the last time she had cut it. They had the same large eye shape and deep green orbs. Clary thought her mother definitely had longer and thicker eyelashes, though, which in truth was just unfair. She had inherited her thick eyebrows from her too. Not to mention her height and slim figure.

When she had been a child, she had been nothing more than a walking stick. Even at 18 she didn't have many curves to speak of at all but now at the age of 28, she certainly had the teasing silhouette of an hourglass figure and her chest had filled out two bras sizes from nonexistent. Which was more than she could hope for. Her lips were a bit thinner than her mother's but for the most part she was a carbon copy of her.

But there was just something about her mother, something so important that only she had. It shined from within her and made her outward appearance that much more beautiful.

Clary couldn't put her finger on just was it was but she envied her mother for it anyway.

"Clary! Let's go! I wanna make it to the corner store before the sun goes down completely." Simon yelled from down the stairs as Clary took one last glance in her mirror before brushing her hands down her a-bit-too-short high waisted shorts that she'd had since she was in high school and a white crop tank top that she had cut a piece out of when she had feared that the neckline would choke her to death while gardening.

Stomping down the stairs in her hiking boots, she smiled to Simon before grabbing her light green army coat. "C'mon, Gray!" She said as she pushed the screen door open and let a streak of gray fur burst through. The last time she had tried to leave without her most trusted companion, he had made a hole through the screen and caught up with them in ten minutes flat. Clary didn't want to waste money on something she clearly could avoid.

The best, and worst, part of living in such a small community is everyone knows each other. And while that also means they know pretty much anything about you from what color your delicates are to what sex position you like best, it also means that they knew about Clary, Simon, and Gray's relationship. They knew that wherever Clary was one of her boys were bound to be by her side. Usually Gray was with her 24/7 aside from when she was showering or changing, so most people let them both into their establishments. It made for an easier day on Clary's part because that meant she didn't have to listen to Gray or even Simon whined from outside wherever she was.

The sun had almost completely set making the sky burst into deep purples and vibrant reds and Clary felt her fingers begin to twitch wishing she had brought her sketchbook with her. But than she'd have wanted to bring her colored pencils too, she would have needed a burnt orange for the outline of the horizon followed by a smudge of periwinkle-

"Hey, Clare, I'm gonna head into the butcher's. You okay with getting the rest at the corner store?"

She blinked a moment before frowning, she hadn't even realized they'd walked a full half-hour to get to the market center that sat between the only busy streets of Harper and Ryan. Simon had been throwing sticks that Gray had been in no mood to chase and Clary had been dreaming with her head in the clouds the whole walk.

"Clary?"

"Oh! Yeah! That's fine, take Gray with you. Mr. McDervis likes to let him eat some of the bacon in the back. He says it helps his coat." Clary said with a smirk knowing the older man just had a soft spot for the pooch.

Simon let out a snicker before nodded and patting his legs. "C'mon, Gray, let's head to the butcher's. I'm sure Mr. McDervis has got something there you'll be able to get your mouth on."

Gray stood uncertainly between Clary and Simon, he shuffled his feet as if torn between who he wanted to go with. Clary sighed lovingly before kneeling to take Gray's face in her hands and kissing his forehead. "I'll be right across the street, not even two minutes away. I'll yell if I need anything, now go on with Simon."

Gray seemed to stare at her for a moment before placing his tongue on her cheek for a quick smooch and bounding toward Simon, who laughed and rushed to follow the dog inside. Clary wondered how Gray seemed to always know what she was saying, it should have creeped her out more than it did but it didn't bother her much. She just chalked it up to good training and all the time they had spent in each others company relying on the other. Clary couldn't count how many times she had held onto his brown fur and cried into his neck, granted she had been much younger than but the fact remains.

She sighed as she pushed through the door with a soft dinging sound as Mrs. Cummings came bounding around the corner. She spoke with the softest southern accent and held an appreciation for the world in her gaze.

"Why, Clary, you get prettier and prettier everyday." Instead of saying pretty with an 're' she said it with a soft 'ur'.

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Cummings." Clary blushed, her cheeks sure to matching her hair as she picked up a basket at the front door and stepped closer to the elder woman. "How is Mr. Cummings doing?"

"Well it seems just as your beauty increase everyday, my husband's stubbornness does the same." Clary let out a soft laugh as she shook her head. Mr. Cummings was the handyman around these parts, not very reliable anymore having, sort of, passed the torch onto his son per Mrs. Cummings request after he took a hard fall off a ladder last summer. But Mr. Cummings was a true manly man and he refused to sit while his son messed up his company. So instead of one Cummings handyman, they had two.

So you could say that a lot of people were used to Cumming.

But Clary didn't make the joke out loud, even thinking it made her blush a beat red. Touching her cheeks softly, she started to move toward the flour isle where she grabbed some pancake mix and regular flour. Clary was no whiz in the kitchen but she could scrap together some things from scratch like fresh bread. Simon loved her baking and she figured since she'd been gone so long and he had been taking care of the tool/bookstore she owned diagonally across the street, only two stores down from the butchers, she owed him at least a loaf or two.

Moving quickly, she pushed toward the eggs as she heard the overhead ding of the door opening. She grabbed the bigger carton knowing Simon would eat them almost everyday and she wanted to make sure she still have some left for cookies and the like. She stood a moment and wondered if she should get two cartons before shaking her head and picking up milk, shampoo/conditioner, a new hairbrush (she had embarrassingly broke her old one on her mane of untamable red hair), toothbrushes, and some jerky for Gray before heading to the counter.

Mrs. Cummings was staring with wary but bright eyes at the man in front of her as she continued to grimace. Almost as if she didn't know whether to smile or frown. Not many people take kindly to newcomers, Clary had felt it first hand. And she suspected if it hadn't been for her and Simon's nonthreatening demeanor they wouldn't have been accepted so easily

Judging by the man's tall build, at least 6'2", and extremely board shoulders she was willing to bet he looked more threatening than the lanky, glasses wearing boy she walked to the store with. And then as if the God's had ripped a hole through the space time continuum, Mrs. Cummings placed a comforting hand on the newbie's.

What the hell?

It had taken weeks for Mrs. Cummings to even look her in the eye let alone touch her. Whoever this guy was, he must have had a friendly face because-

And just as she thought it he turned around and Clary was ashamed to say she definitely gasp/squeaked.

She had never seen anything so beautiful and she was an artist after all. Beauty was what she dealt in exclusively; in digging deeper and finding color in a dark world. But she didn't have to dig to see how handsome this man was. Hell, she didn't even need to scratch the surface to see how magnificently he was made.

His high cheekbones, sculpted jaw line (Clary and every woman in the world including Mrs. Cummings had a thing for jawlines), articrate nose, tumbling honey gold waves, and plump lips gave him the essence of a male supermodel.

But the leather jacket and rugged stubble around his face gave him the devil-may-care vibe. The meer build of him alone was something to be talked about! Nothing but pure lean, hard muscle was enough to remind you he had been in a fight or two and survived. You couldn't say for certain if the other guys did however.

But what struck her most was the topaz eyes that stared into her own. Surrounded by millions of dirty blonde eyelashes, because of course why not make an already perfect man more perfect by giving him eyelash envy, they were impossible not to fall into. Like hot lava they promised, at least, one night of warmth and satisfaction only to be burned, cold, and alone tomorrow morning.

Clary had met a million guys like him, however she had never seen one as beautiful as him before but she digress.

Mrs. Cummings cleared her throat as the stranger blinked for a moment before releasing a panty-dropping smirk that she was sure did the job for many women around the world.

Herself, almost, included.

"I'm sorry, I'm in the way." His voice was crisp and deep. And Clary almost groaned out loud in frustration.

Really? You put all your eggs in one basket with him didn't you? Clary cursed whatever God made him before she realized she was still staring.

Blushing that unflattering color that she was sure made her camouflage with the rest of her hair, she felt her lips move before she realized what she was going to say. "Oh, you're quite alright." She moved forward slowly waiting for him to move away more from the counter but he didn't. He simply gave her enough space for her to place her body between him and a barrel of peanuts for sale, three pounds for a dollar. It really was quite a steal.

She could feel the heat coming off him in waves and wrapping around her petite, chilly form. Mrs. Cummings smiled at the stranger again as she started ringing Clary's items up. She wished he would just get what he needed and leave, it was beginning to make her feel uneasy how close he was and the fact that he was staring at her didn't help. She really hoped she didn't have stray paint in her hair or on her face. That would be too embarrassing to think about.

". . .you're actually in luck, Mr. Herondale, Clary here owns the tool shop that you're looking for."

Clary blinking back into the conversation as two pairs of eyes landed on her. Mrs. Cummings wiggled her eyebrows from behind. . . Mr. Herondale was it? And it only added to Clary's discomfort. She swallowed as much of the saliva that was gathering in her mouth as she could before she spoke. She wanted to be casual and speak with an air of indifference. As if his appearance had no merit to her though it did, as if he didn't know she found him attractive though he knew.

"Oh?" She said a turn of her head and loosened her shoulders, making her heart slow as she breathed slowly. Clary had become an expert at calming herself down after having so many panic attacks. . . "Is there something I can help you out with?"

Mr. Herondale squinted his eyes in confusion for a moment before blinking and clearing his throat. His smirk fell right back into place. "My car actually broke down and my family and I are kind of in a rush to get to Oregon. We're visiting family there."

Clary tried to say she heard everything he said and didn't read it directly off his lips but she'd be lying. And she liked to think herself an honest person. Her stomach dropped a bit at the thought of his family however. Of course, he'd be married. It would be absolutely insane if he wasn't. But a girl could always dream. Mrs. Cummings had just finished bagging up the rest of her things as Clary slipped her the appropriate cash with a smile.

"I can take a look at it if you want me too?" She said absentmindedly as she reached for her two bags, gingerly handling the eggs.

Mr. Herondale raised an eyebrow as he blinked rapidly a moment. "You could take a look at it for me?"

Clary smirked, she was used to that kind of reaction. What could a petite redhead know about cars and the like? They were all basically the same except for some minor tweaks depending on the make and model. How could she possibly be that good with her hands? Cars were a manly thing and Clary was the epitome of what a lady should look like. "Well, you could always wait until tomorrow for Phil to check it. But he probably won't open the mechanic shop until the afternoon and the possibility of him still being drunk from the night before is higher than him waking up sober and irritable." She turned on her heel with a wave to the elder woman, who looked stunned by her tone. Clary was sick of being labels for her short and feminine status. She could keep up with any man. Growing up she had, had too. It had been survival of the fittest and she wasn't always at the top of the food chain.

The gold god blinked again before running a tongue over his upper lips with a challenging smile. He flew toward the door, thanking Mrs. Cummings almost silently as she stared stunned after him. He placed a delicate hand on Clary's shoulder, she could feel the calluses of his labor and watched as it covered the entire expanse of her freckled, tan-ish skin.

"I didn't mean to offend, Mrs. . ." He trailed off a moment as Clary slowly turned around with a strained smile.

"Clary, you can call me Clary. And actually it's Miss." She said with a raise of both her eyebrows because, for the life of her, it was a hidden talent to raise only one.

His smile grew as he held out a large hand. His fingers were long and if he weren't for the whole bad boy biker image, Clary would have thought he had musician's fingers. "Jace."

Of course, Clary thought to herself as she took his hand in her own. Ignoring the way her stomach fluttered as they touched. His attractiveness was a little overwhelming. His name couldn't have been Alfred or Bethel or Ron or something else equally weird or lame.

"I'm sorry for how I sounded back there. I just haven't met a lot of women who could actually," He trailed off a minute looking as if he wanting to find the proper words so not to offend her again. "Understand cars. It just took me by surprise but if you do have a moment I would love your help."

Clary frowned at his earnest response. She could see that part of him still believed she couldn't do it but at least he was keeping an open mind and giving her a chance. She supposed that was better than nothing.

"Okay, Mr. Herondale-"

"Jace, please."

She nodded again with a smile. "Okay, Jace, I can take a look." She turned a moment before realizing she still had groceries in her hands. "Shoot! I have to get these home first," She bit her lip a moment before smiling. "You know what? I'll just have-"

"Clary!"

Before she could speak his name the man himself wandered over. Simon frowned at Jace as both the men eyed each other as if both were sniffing the other out. Though Clary absolutely loved Simon, her couldn't picture a way that he could win in a fight with Jace.

"Simon, I was actually just about to find you. Jace's car broke down and I agreed to look at it real quick." She said with a shrug of her shoulders as if it was no big deal that she was helping the hottest man she had ever met. "Will you take the groceries with you home?"

Simon continued to glare at Jace as the other man lifted an eyebrow in return as if challenging him to a fight. What they were fighting over Clary had no idea. "Uh, Clare, can I talk to you for a second?"

She blinked a moment barely being able to nod before Simon was hauling her in the opposite direction of where she came. "Who the hell is this guy, Clary?"

"He's someone just passing through town with a little bit of car trouble." She said with another shrug. She pushed some red hair that wandered over to her cheek behind her ear. "I'm just going to take a look at his car really fast and than he'll be on his way."

"Said every horror movie ever!" Simon said in outrage, flinging his arms out and slapping the bag of meat against his head with a grunt.

"I'm pretty sure it's the other way around. The people who get stranded are usually the ones that get killed." She smiled as she adjusted his glasses back on his face.

"Not this time obviously!" Simon crossed his arms as the blush died down from when he had slapped himself with his own meat. "I don't know, Clary, we don't know the guy and there's something about him that seems off."

Clary glanced over her shoulder to see Jace place his hands in his beautifully sculpted jean pockets. His topaz eyes surveyed the scene in front of him and she could only see the side of his structured jawline, but part of her felt like he was listening to their conversation though the length between them was too wide to provide much sound.

"He could just be trying to make a pass at you."

"He has a family, Si."

"Well," Simon paused a moment like a child trying to find something to argue about for the sake of arguing. "Who needs muscles on their shoulders?" Simon rolled his eyes as Clary giggled. "I just don't trust a guy that has that many muscles on his shoulders."

"Simon, I'll be fine." She placed a hand on is heart before slipping the remaining bags off her wrists and on to his. "Now, be careful with the eggs. If you crack any I will kick your ass, Lewis." She smirked before standing on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll be home in a half an hour. I'll call you when I'm on my way."

Simon groaned with a smile before nodding, "I'm only agreeing to this because Gray is going with you and that dog would die before letting anything happen to you. " He said his eyes holding a cheerful expression as Clary glanced over her shoulder with a gasp.

Gray was standing at the ready, his brown eyes locked on Jace as he growled in a low voice. "Gray!" Clary yelled making the dog's ears perk up. "Come here, boy."

Gray stood rod straight for another moment, Jace and Gray staring each other down before the dog turned and trotted over to Clary, tongue out and in full glory. He rubbed his head against her bare legs as she scolded him softly before waving again to Simon and promising to call on her way home.

Simon shot Jace another threatening glare before putting two fingers to his eyes and then pointing back at him, insinuating that he was watching the blonde beauty. Clary threw a look over her shoulder as Simon grimaced and headed home.

"Sorry about Gray." She said with a hand to the dog's head. "He never usually acts that way."

Jace shrugged, before throwing another look down as the glaring brown-eyed pooch at her heels. "It's alright. Dogs tend not to like me."

"Huh," Clary said with a nod of her head before clapping her hands together. "Okay, show me where this broken down baby is."

Jace smirked before nodding in the far direction of town, his curls shining under the street lights.

If someone told her tonight would be the last normal life of her existence, she would have laughed.

If they had told her she was about to be pulled into a world made only for nonfiction, she would have scoffed.

But no one told her.

so, she didn't see it coming.

And she didn't get to react at all.

So here is the beginning! Not that exciting but I promise it's gonna get really crazy next chapter!

I'm excited to go on this journey with you all!

Review and tell me what you think the story with be like or just give me some of your feedback!

Love you all!

-Whisper