Hello, pleased to meet you. Please, call me Nessa.

Disclaimer; I obviously don’t own Harry Potter nor Twilight (just the books and not even), else I wouldn’t be writing a fanfic; J.K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer do.

About Me:

Writing, reading, and drawing are my three main passions. I find that beautiful things don't ask for attention.

THE FOLLOWING ARE ALL PREVIEWS OF MY STORIES IN PROGRESS

NEWEST STORY;

oOo

Disclaimer:

No copyright infringement intended.

The Twilight Saga and all characters involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

However, the plot is entirely my own.

-This applies to the rest of the story.

Scouting for Prince Charming

This is a different take on a tale of frog kissing, Prince Charming. We all know this story and love it, now I'm presenting it to you with a twist of Humor, Friendship, Romance, and Angst;

Eight-year-old Bella's on a quest; Finding Prince Charming. Who should she stumble upon if not a willing, if a little uncertain, 14 year-old Jasper Whitlock to step up to the task? See them grow along the way into the woman and man they'll need to become in order to be in each others lives. Hopefully, where there's a Prince, there's always a Knight in waiting, knowing that there is suffering in love.

Preview:

While people walked to and fro all around me, I sat quietly on the fountain's wraparound bench smack in the middle of the mall, hugging my knees tightly to my chest, people watching, and searching for my next victim, when I saw him.

He was just across the mall, closer to the entrance but on the left side of the opening that led to the bathrooms. He was leaning against the wall, his feet crossed daintily at the ankles and looking bored, or something relatively close to it. I know I was.

My mommy had once said that was called… what was it again, brewing? No, no, that sounded like something you did in the kitchen… I think. Ah! It's brooding! Yes, that's it! He was leaning against the wall with his arms and feet crossed, eyes closed, chin resting on his chest, and brooding.

All these, in my eyes, he seemed to do with undeniable elegance. Though, I could only assume others thought so too because he was earning a few glances now and again, and all from the female variety and all appreciative.

I wondered fleetingly if he was waiting for somebody but decided it didn't really matter, after all. Standing and keeping my sights on the brooding blond, I stood on clumsy feet, squaring my shoulders, and walking with purpose, headed over in his direction.

Once I was about four feet away from reaching him, I took a deep breath for courage. He was who I had been looking for all afternoon after all; I had to make a good first impression.

When I stood right before him, all the chattering from the mall fell onto the background and ceased. I found myself staring at him and decided, now that I was up-close, that I had been right all along. I had found him!

He was the one.

oOo

Disclaimer:

No copyright infringement intended.

The Twilight Saga and all characters involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

However, the plot is entirely my own.

-This applies to the rest of the story.

Self Induced Nightmare for Lightning and Thunder

This is an All human story of Romance, Humor, and Angst;

Waking up in the morning can turn into a bit of a sticky situation when you are one lovesick Jasper Whitlock. Making it better with a walk in the rain, to wash it all away, can simply lead to a few thundery moments... Follow the arrows -Simple as that.

Preview:

Now, to go over my morning routines of 'Waking up by Jasper Whitlock' –First off, mess my already messy bed-hair –and… whatisthis? I frowned as my hand met a flimsy obstruction as it lazily traveled the length of my face to my platinum-blond hair.

I lightly pulled at the square-like obstruction, it was sticky but not hard to rid off, just took me off guard, and made my borrowed frown even more defined. Blinking furiously with undermined intrigue and trying, almost without success, to adjust my sensitive vision to the bright sunlight, as I stared ahead at what seemed to be a square piece of paper that I instantly recognized belonged to her, it could only be hers.

It was a light blue, scented sticky-note, previously glued to my forehead and now my finger, with… writing on it, and shaped like an arrowhead? I squinted at the familiar scribble, trying to make out the words with my sleep heavy lidded eyes. No wonder I could not make out the words! I had it upside down!

Righting the note, so that the arrow now pointed left, I squinted further, and read;

MORNING SLEEPY HEAD! FOLLOW THE DIRECTION OF THE ARROW AND LOOK TO THE FLOOR!

My heart began to pound adrenaline, in an erratic manner that could not possibly be healthy, pulsing blood through my veins and up, up to my suddenly lightheaded brain. I recognized the emotion –exhilaration. My poor heart was surely threatening to leave an imprinted bruise upon my chest where it conducted its assaulted thrashing –like I said, unhealthy. However, I could not help it or blame my weak heart; she always seemed to do these kinds of things to us –only her.

Just the thought of herbeing here, in my home, made me nervous. It did not matter that she came over every day, she still managed to tilt my axis and change my course and all the while I'd talk to her through the dryness of my cottonmouth. My palms instantly became sweaty, and my body was slowly but surely losing control as my heart pounded in something that was surely more than overdrive.

Feeling almost silly, I glanced at my chest, verifying that my assumptions were, in fact, exaggerations and that there would not be an imprint in the shape of my unruly heart there. Sighing with satisfaction at my discovery and surprised that I was "fine" and not going into cardiac arrest, I let my eyes lithely scan the room for any sight of her. Dismayed, I came up short; she was not here, within the confinements of my room.

I turned to my right and followed the multicolored arrows that lead me to the door of my master bathroom with a goofy smile tilting the right corner of my mouth. My smile faltered as I hesitated under the threshold. Just before setting foot into the bathroom my breathing spiked and the sound of my own blood rushing in my ears rendered me deaf, causing me to sway mid step. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the sudden darkening around the corner of my eyes that threatened on the borderline of tunnel vision. I felt dizzy from the sudden realization that Bella wasn't here to talk me through this.

"I can do this. I can do this. Jasper, you can do this," I whispered under my breath as I once again began hyperventilating. My eyes shut tight, trying to block out the drumming of my spiriting heart and my panting breathes. I couldn't do this. Who was I trying to fool? Bella was always here to talk me through this moment. I've never once done it alone. I could not possibly start now, could I? I knew I had to… my eyes flashed open, catching sight of my ashen, sickly pale face and a white something on the surface of the mirror.

Curiosity pushing everything momentarily aside I stepped over the threshold and faced the mirror to find more of Bella's scribbles all over it. My mouth broadening into a sudden smile as I read;

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVE, AND G'MORNING!

READ THIS –

Carefully I removed the tapped note the arrow pointed to from the mirror and opening it I continued to smile as I read on;

HOW DOES IT FEEL, BECOMING SENILE AND ALL, THAT IS?

(I snorted at that.)

JASPER…

TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND REMEMBER, IT'S ONLY WATER.

I felt aggravated and insulted at that, she knew why I felt the way I did. How could she try to sooth me that way? She knew I never mocked herfear. Just when my indignation was about to reach a boiling point all my fears were squelched as I read on.

I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE THINKING, MY J, BUT IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK

I'M NO HYPOCRITE. YOU KNOW THAT.

ALL I'M SAYING IS, LETS PRETEND THAT, IN MY CASE, FOR TODAY, LIGHTNING IS JUST THAT, LIGHTNING…

Enlightenment had me pondering over her words as I began to undress. Could I really do this? She seemed to believe I was capable though. I took a shaky breath and continued to read.

TODAY, SINCE I CAN'T PHYSICALLY BE THERE FOR YOU, WE ARE GOING TO TAKE HOLD OF A NEW REALITY.

WE ARE GOING TO PRETEND THAT WATER IS JUST WATER AND YOU TAKE SHOWERS ALL THE TIME WITHOUT ME JUST OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR TALKING OR SINGING YOU THROUGH IT.

I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.

oOo

Disclaimer:

No copyright infringement intended.

The Twilight Saga and all characters involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

However, the plot is entirely my own.

-This applies to the rest of the story.

Captured by the Code of Fear

This is a time period pice, set and predated in Washington of 1871 and 1861 during times of flashbacks;

They all knew who I was, I was certain. Though I was only eight at the time, I had come to know heartache and pain prematurely. But no pain could have compared to the pain I now felt from the aftershock. I was frozen in a fragile world of make believe and empty lies, afraid to cry.

Preview:

It was a pleasant afternoon with a lazy breeze engaging every tree into a tantalizing sway that billowed placidly throughout town, distributing the aromatic perfume of the newly blooming blooms of spring in its playful wake. In other words, it was a perfectly forthcoming afternoon for idle mingling in the company of my most preeminent chap.

Glad that not many people had decided to stroll about town just yet, I could not help but be thankful for the small respite this day had to offer thus far, and for as long as it lasted. Today found Emmett and I seated on the washed-out roots of our favorite, old oak tree, enjoying its cooling shadow. Under the warming rays of the sun and with the wind setting the rhythm and rhyme, we placated away vivaciously.

Secluded by the tree roots from gossipers prying eyes and with my skirts carelessly tangled at my ankles, I rested my head trustingly on Emmett's lap as he ran his careful fingers through the silkiness of my auburn black tresses. In the interim our banter varied from aimless to nonsensical topic with playful ease that only we knew, making light of the conversation and making it enjoyable, whilst taking pleasure being in the welcome company of the other once the conversation finally died down into a comfortable hush.

Emmett and I have been the best of friends for nearly ten years now and were, at present time, moreover, celebrating such feat and the events that lead to our resilient affiliation. Despite Emmett being three years my senior, it seemed that age played no derogatory part in our playful as air extensive friendship. In any case, it just made him that much more protective where matters concerned me and anyone that tried to threaten our peace.

Being with Emmett was like breathing to me. It was something that I just did naturally and did not have to put much thought, if any, behind it. Our relationship, more than anything, seems to be solely based on the unquestionable acceptance on our mutual ability to understand each other without much being said, because there was never a need to elaborate, and respect. Always respect.

As my mind wandered into the finer details of how our amity ensued, I could not help the smile that tugged at the curving corners of my lips. During that time, Emmett had been a force to be reckoned with and I had not had the chance to even hope to dissuade him from his one-trail mindset. Even now, still.

Beaming warmly with the unraveling of our shared memories and history fleeting behind my eyes and the sun's warming rays kissing my skin, I allowed myself to get lost in my memories of the past...

oOo

Disclaimer:

No copyright infringement intended.

The Twilight Saga and all characters involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

However, the plot is entirely my own.

-This applies to the rest of the story.

Memoirs of Her Scent

(Prologue)

"Jasper?" I heard her call my name with satisfaction; her voice was small, filled with unshed tears, and barely above a whisper, but I could hear her and she knew I could.

"I'm here," I assured her, my voice slightly louder than hers so that she could hear me, making my way to her as she stretched out her hand, like a blind person's, before her.

The instant she heard my voice her emotions became visibly relaxed and I heard her small sigh of relief that carried her warm, sweet scent to me. Intoxicating me, my mind became clouded but so did my senses, I hoped that getting near her would not put her in any danger with my inner demon. I approached her, after a small hesitation, by which time I had tested my self-control. It would be all right, I told myself as I took her warm hand in my own granite cold ones. She shivered at the touch, but did not withdrawal, neither did I; I loved having her in my arms nothing felt more right than this.

"I'm here," I sighed once again, into her ear this time, and then I smiled, placidly, as she shivered when my cool breath graced her warm skin, she smelled as lovely as ever.

"Jasper…" she sighed wrapping her arms around me, her warm body begging for my cool embrace; I held her and wished that I could forever stay with her like this because I also longed for her warm embrace... she just did not know it, she could not know it because I would not and could not allow it.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned, due to the prolonged silence that held us wordlessly in a seemingly timeless moment; the words, to my surprise, sounded choked. It must be because of her tears and the overwhelming source of emotions flowing from her to me; there was so much sadness piled up in that fragile body of hers that I couldn't quite understand how she was still able to stand on her own two feet.

"I don't want to talk about it, just hold me," came her muffled response into my chest, my chest wet with her tears.

"Of course." At her request I held her closer, cursing Edward for making her cry and wishing that somehow I could hold her even closer. All I could do, however, was calm her with my unnatural power, which seemed to have no effect on her at the moment. Was her despair so great that not even I could help her?

This hurt more than the fact that she was not mine for the take and could never be, I wanted to cry with her, for her… if only my eyes could be filled with tears, I would have cried then; I felt so helpless.

"Thank you," she whispered, flashing the smallest of faintest smiles before burying her face on my neck, making me groan in anticipation and frustration.

"Jasper?" she questioned quizzically.

"Nothing, it's nothing," I assured her with a defeated sigh.

My Bella, my sweet, brave, and innocent Bella, can you not see how crazy you drive me?

oOo

Disclaimer:

No copyright infringement intended.

The Harry Potter Books and all characters involved within are the property of J.K. Rowling.

However, the plot is entirely my own.

-This applies to the rest of the story.

The Lillian Evans and Marauders Story

They all knew who I was, I was certain. Though I was only eight at the time, I had come to know heartache and pain prematurely. But no pain could have compared to the pain I now felt from the aftershock. I was frozen in a fragile world of make believe and empty lies, afraid to cry.

You Have Been Accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Dear Ms. Evans,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"James and Sirius, at your service. What's your name?"

"It seems like she doesn't want to tell us, Jamesie," Sirius amended.

"Don't call me that, Sir," reproved James critically.

"Troll..." coincided Sirius as Lily rolled her eyes… there they go again!

"Git," James wouldn’t, couldn’t back down.

"That you?" Sirius asked cordially.

"Can't you let yourself loose just once?" questioned James exasperated. (mockingly of course)

"Never...” Sirius announced.

"Um... Does your mum look an awful lot like you and looks extreamely scary when mad?" Sirius asked fidgeting.

"Yes... Why?" Lily asked frowning with confusion.

"She's coming this way," James warned in a single breath as he pointed somewhere behind Lily, anticipation dancing in his eyes. Lily wheeled around ready for the torrent…

"At least she looks pretty when she's mad... unlike my mum," Sirius allowed with a slight nudge of the head.

"So true, Sirius, mate."