Hello all!

So I understand how a lot of you are made that this is a authors note, but it's very important you read this. Though I know, as a reader myself, that many of you are just going to skim this. So everything you need to know will be in bold! Everything else will be for you guys who want more details. So this story started out as an idea last year for and OC/OC fic. I had this whole idea of who Eric would turn out to be and how he would be with James's little brother Joseph. But then as I wrote, things started to go crazy and the story, and the character, went downhill. I hated the way this was going and wanted to change it. So I planed to rewrite the story, having it still be Eric and the basic plot. But then I found I just couldn't make myself do it. I had given up on the story. So I was talking to my sister and she gave me the idea of completely starting over. So that's what I'm doing. Stepping on Butterflies is hereby abandoned. But don't worry there will be a new story. The character will still be Lily's twin. The pairing will be Regulus Black/SI OC. The character will be the same in principle, but also more well rounded and generally better written. His name will be Briar Evans, Bri for short.

I really hope you give it a chance, but understand if you don't. The new story will be named Lilies in the Thorns, and I really hope to see you all there!

Love you all!

Scarlett

P.S. The story will also be written in third person FYI.

P.P.S I know that I'm not aloud to post a chapter that's only an authors note, so here's a preview of the first chapter of Lilies in the Thorns.

He died before he could live. Well, as much as he would have liked to. He still wanted to do so much. He wanted to go skydiving and find this one people wrote so much about. He wanted go out in a bang, not a whimper. But you know what they say. If you want to God to laugh, make plans. He must of made too many plans.

He was born into high class family Leeds, West Yorkshire England. His parents were young and pressured into an unhappy marriage. He was a reminder of that. His father threw himself in his inherited company, his mother into a bottle. It was disgustingly cliche.

He was raised by nannies. Yes, nannies, plural. He enjoyed terrorizing them, and because of that they tended not to last longer than six months. He'd put dye in their shampoo, ran away while they took him out in public, steal all their underwear and staple it to the front of the house. He was the kind of kid they wrote movies about, and every nanny that came to him thought they would be his Marry Poppins. They never were.

There were a few downsides to his behavior, but the worst of them had to be the seclusion. Due to his habit of running from nannies, he was placed under house arrest for the majority of his childhood.

It was torture, at first. Then he had a nanny by the name of Amelia who introduced him to the wonders of having a library in your house. She was his favorite, and lasted longer than any of the others. Then, around the time he started secondary school, her sister feel sick and she left to take care of them. None of the others lasted half a year after that.

The library became his sanctuary, the bookstore his haven. He read like it was going out of style. Reading everything from teen vampire romances to classics. Friends stayed at school, never going deeper than complaining about teachers and homework, and books became his best friends.

That is, until shortly after he started puberty. Dreams started to get weird, and after his fifth dream about a certain blond Sytherin, he decided to dig deeper. Yep, that's right folks. He found out he was gay from erotic dreams about Draco Malfoy.

He was just awesome like that.

He had a few boyfriends after that, but none lasted too long. They were all teenage boys who barely cared about anything more than sex. He wanted something deeper. He wanted to find the deep, sometimes painful connection people wrote entire books around. The kind that people started wars over.

He didn't find it, not in that lifetime at least.

He was seventeen when he died in the same cliche way he was born. He was sitting in the backseat of his car, when a some asshole came out of nowhere and tee-boned him.

That was the end of Arron Garrett, and the birth of Briar Evans.