Emily Taylor

Run, before it’s too late… Every girl dreams of a grand, pure love—the kind that makes your head

**A Trip to the Seaside** “I won’t allow it, Emily, do you hear me? You’re only eighteen.

**Diary Entry** All girls dream of grand, pure love. The kind that makes your head spin and your heart

“Who is my father?” “Tamsin, do you fancy catching the cinema on Sunday?”

“Betrayal” “Emily… Emily…” Rebecca sobbed into the phone. “

“Katie, oh my God…” sobbed Sophie into the phone. “What’s wrong? Spit it out—is it James?

**The Ring Box** Annie and Jack had been friends since primary school. They lived in the same block of

I’ll never forget you. Lydia Stevens walked home with her drape coat unbuttoned, clutching a worn-out

Crafty Tim Emily and her mum had been rowing for days. They’d wear themselves out, retreat to opposite

“Give birth for me. You know I can’t have children…” The first day of university