For an author with a wild amount of range, I bring you Riley Hart.
Hart is a weird one, because I love some of her writing, and some of it just doesn’t do it for me, so this isn’t just a blanket recommendation, but everything in the little graphic are book I have enjoyed, so check 'em out.
Hart does angsty books, low angsty books, sports romance to small town romance. This post shows some categories of the various books Hart has written. There’s really something there for everyone.
I tend to go for more of the gritty, angsty stuff, so I particularly enjoyed Risk the Fall and On The Mountain, both standalone novels featuring MCs who are really going through it.
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He raised his glass as if he was sending me off with a toast, “Finley…”
My name rolled off his tongue like honey, making my skin tingle. My cheeks felt hot. Oh god, am I blushing right now?! I haphazardly grabbed the drinks, a splash of my own spilling out in the process, and turned away quickly before he could get another intoxicating word in.
read chapter 6 the first (and half coincidental) encounter now
“Oh Finley, when was the last time you seriously dated someone? You’re almost 24, I’m just trying to jump start something!”
“Wow, I didn’t know being 23 and single is a crime now.”
For Finley O'Connor, love comes second, much to her mother’s dismay. For Harry Styles, life couldn’t revolve without love. When the pair are set up on a blind date, they make a pact to help each other get the thing that is apparently missing from their lives. But how long will it take for them to realise what truly is missing?
A story about being 23, blind dates, and finding who you truly are.
read on wattpad or read on tumblr
Chapter Three: The Friend Request
Saturday mornings were my favourite. It was my one of my only chances of being completely alone in my flat and therefore one of my only chances of solitude. So, despite the fact that I rolled into bed in a drunken state not long after midnight after walking home from the station, I still forced my tired self out of bed when my alarm chirped at 7am.
In theory, having a flatmate seems like an awesome idea. You have someone to split rent and bills costs, someone to help with the household chores, someone to come home to. In practice, however, it's not so simple. Alice was my flatmate, and calling her intense would be putting it lightly. I found her advertisement for a flatmate in the local paper and on a whim decided to follow up on it. The flat was great, good location and spacious. I signed on to the one year lease with her almost immediately. This is something I would come to regret in the following weeks.
Alice was a clean freak. A no-food-in-the-bedroom, no-drinks-without-a-coaster, no-items-in-the-cupboard-without-a-label type of clean freak. And while it was endearing at first, five months later and I was almost always on edge when I was at home. One thing out of place, and Alice would be shooting me daggers and making my life all that much crappier for the rest of the week. So, that's why I came to cherish Saturday mornings. Alice always worked the Saturday morning shift at one of the local cafés so that meant I had until 12pm to relax around the flat before going to hole myself up in my room for the rest of the week, the only relatively Alice-free zone.
I shuffled into the immaculately clean kitchen and grabbed the loaf of sliced bread from the freezer (labelled WHOLEGRAIN, EXP: 18 SEP 2017) and threw two pieces into the toaster before boiling some water. A good cup of tea would immediately scrub the hazy state my mind was currently in. Whilst I wasn't hungover, the shots last night meant I woke up with a small ache in the back of my head. The lack of sleep probably didn't help either.
Once my tea was sufficiently brewed and my toast coated in peanut butter (EXP: 11 JAN 2018), I settled myself on the lounge and pulled up my laptop. The real reason I loved Saturday mornings so much was that it was one of my only peaceful, distraction-free times to write. Script writing to be specific. It started as a topic of interest when I began to expand my film watching horizons as a teen, and three elective classes at uni later had me hooked. I was completely enamoured with the fact that every great movie started with a great script. Whilst it was just a hobby, I couldn't help but love crafting and blocking out scenes of my wildest imaginations. And whilst writing had become an important part of my life, I preferred to keep my hobby on the down low. This made those few hours of being home alone all that more precious. These past few weeks I had been re-working my own version of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. After spending a lonely Friday night watching it on Netflix I was struck with inspiration and decided to take the characters into my own hands.
Whilst munching on my toast, I clicked through and deleted any unimportant emails, checked my iMessage as I couldn't be bothered getting my phone from my bedside table and logged onto Facebook. I made it a point to check my social media, mainly as my mum insisted on tagging me in as many posts as possible and if I didn't promptly reply I would have a phone call from her asking why I was ignoring her.
This morning there was only 2 notifications. And, to my surprise, a friend request. I clicked on the illuminated red (1) and audibly laughed when I saw who it was. Harry Styles. I pressed accept without hesitation, and against better judgement, clicked onto his profile.
I caught myself smiling as his full profile loaded up. His profile picture featured him grinning cheekily at the camera, his arm thrown around a boy with blonde hair who was gripping a pint of beer. I scrolled down his page, various photos and posts littering his wall. I saw the same three or four faces cropping up with Harry, it definitely looked like he had a close knit group of friends.
I had scrolled all the way back to 2014 when I saw a picture of Harry with a girl. A quick glance at who was tagged confirmed that it was Isabel. Gorgeous was an understatement. Her hair, a light shade of brown with a perfect amount of golden highlights, was cascading down over one of her shoulders. She was wearing a simple red dress, but on her it looked tailor made. It was a candid shot, both of them looking into each others eyes with their faces split into laughing grins. You could feel the love radiating from them both just from looking at the photo. It was almost hard to believe that two years later they would be broken up.
I was just about to close the tab when a message box popped up at the bottom of the page. I almost spilt my tea when I saw who it was, like he knew I had just spent the past 20 minutes thoroughly combing through his Facebook profile.
Harry Styles: well hello there, early riser
I chuckled to myself, my fingers hovering over the keys as I formulated a response.
Finley O'Connor: hello stranger. same can be said to you, i'm surprised you are awake after all those shots
Harry Styles: you may be shocked to hear that i can actually handle my alcohol
Harry Styles: i was almost afraid you weren't going to accept my friend request
Finley O'Connor: i'll be honest, i almost didn't accept based on the fact that you had already found my profile without me even telling you my full name last night. stalker abilities on point?
Harry Styles: hahahaha
Harry Styles: i will also be honest, i knew your last name before we even met last night. your aunty basically gave my mum your birth certificate lol
Harry Styles: i also may have stalked you on fb before last night. felt like i shouldnt add you until i met you though, didn't want to be a creep
Finley O'Connor: ah, so that's how you knew who i was when i walked in last night. creep status has definitely achieved
Harry Styles: oh don't act like you havent just been stalking my profile
Harry Styles: i know i have on yours. did you enjoy tea at the langham last month?
I laughed. At least I felt a little better about my shameless Facebook stalking.
Finley O'Connor: omg
Finley O'Connor: how do i block people on facebook???
Finley O'Connor: just kidding. i scrolled back to 2014 so beat that
I decided to move from the lounge to my favourite writing spot, the dining table. At this time of the morning, the sun was always at the perfect angle to warm my back as I typed away. I settled into the chair, opening up the Word Doc containing my work in progress. Before I could type a word though, the Facebook message tone blipped.
Harry Styles: find anything interesting?
I contemplated for a moment whether I should mention the Isabel photo. Considering how candid Harry ended up being about his relationship last night, I figured it wasn't unapproachable territory.
Finley O'Connor: yes, actually. an old photo of you and isabel
I stared expectantly at the small chat box, waiting for the dots to appear to signify he was responding. The seconds ticked by and I began chewing my lip. Perhaps a wrong move? I clicked back to my half written script, trying not to fixate on something so small. However, when the message tone pinged again a couple minutes later, I scrambled to click back to the page.
Harry Styles: yeah there's still a few photos scattered through there, ones she hasn't deleted yet anyways
I didn't know how to respond. I could sense it was still a touchy subject, not that I blamed him. But, he ended up responding for me.
Harry Styles: speaking of....
Harry Styles: we're you serious about what you suggested last night? i know we were both a little tipsy...
I raised my eyebrows. I had forgotten about the drunken pact we had made on the Croydon platform late last night. I actually had some second-hand embarrassment from the idea I had hatched, why did I even think it was a good idea?
Finley O'Connor: oh that pact thing? we don't actually have to do that lol. just a bit of a laugh you know
Harry Styles: what?? no i already have someone in mind to set you up with
Now it was my turn to delay a response. Was he being serious? Was this something I should actually involve myself into? I mean, I had met Harry once and all of the sudden I'm supposed to trust his taste in men for me? And on top of that, he's supposed to trust me to help him win back his ex-girlfriend? I was half-wishing I could've just kept my drunken mouth shut last night.
Harry Styles: hello?? fin?????
Finley O'Connor: i mean.... if you're really serious about it, then sure
I hoped I wasn't going to live to regret this.
Harry Styles: brilliant
Harry Styles: wanna grab a coffee? discuss logistics??
My eyes flickered over to the time displayed in the top left hand corner of my laptop. It had just ticked past 8am, meaning I had 4 hours of non-Alice time ahead of me. Coffee would cut into that. I sighed as I clicked back over to my half-written script, my eyes skimming over the last few lines I had typed out. I guess I could miss my writing session for one week.
Finley O'Connor: have somewhere in mind?
apologies for a short chapter, i decided to split it up, hopefully this wasn’t too boring for you?? let me know your thoughts! thanks for reading :)
“Finley O’Connor, who have you been shagging and why have I not been informed? I’m your best friend for christ sakes!”
“I am going to kill my mother.”
“Yeah, yeah, kill her after. You need to fill me in. Right now!”
I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my forehead with my free hand, wishing I didn’t have to explain this whole Harry thing. Was it even a thing? Of course, to everyone else but me it’s a thing. I’m Finley, always single. Always brushing off dates. Always content to be alone, supposedly.
