How Accurate Is The Endurance Book To Shackleton'S Voyage?

An apocalypse driven by natural disasters. Survival of the fittest. Typhoons, floods, deadly cold, scorching heat, earthquakes, tsunamis, insect plagues, acid rain… After struggling through three years of the apocalypse, Nicole Floyd met a brutal death. Miraculously, she woke up and found herself three days before it all began. Nicole seized the advantage to reclaim her storage space, flipping the switch on full-on stockpiling mode. She shopped until she ran out of money, and her storage was packed tight. She also looked for the dog that had saved her life once before. She sharpened her knives, stacked her supplies, and took care of unfinished business. She paid back every debt, whether owed in blood or in kindness. And then, disaster struck. Her right hand gripping a knife and her left stroking the dog, Nicole pressed on through the ruins of a world without order or morals.

Ice had seen courage under fire, in many cases literally, back in his SEAL days. But he’d never seen anything like Vixen that day. When he first caught sight of her, she was standing with her feet wide apart, solidly braced on those mile-high, mid-thigh black boots, the ones that he loved fucking her in. Her minute green skirt had ridden high and tight up her perfect legs, and her dark eyes were dilated to black as she grimly stared down the approaching vehicle, shooting and shooting, both hands holding the gun. She’d looked every inch the hot female assassin in some blockbuster Hollywood movie, right down to her hair flowing behind her in the autumn wind. **** Ice Johansson is the Road Devils MC’s Chief Enforcer: cold, ruthless, and built for violence. He doesn’t feel guilt, except where Vix is concerned. Weeks ago, he crossed a line with the one woman who mattered to him. Now an enemy attack leaves her badly injured, and Ice wants one thing: to protect her, if she’ll let him close again. Victoria “Vixen” Shaw owns her reputation as the club’s favorite ride. No shame. No apologies. For eighteen months, though, she’s been Ice’s alone. What he did shattered her trust, but when Ice becomes her caretaker – no sex, no demands, just presence – she begins to see the man beneath the ice. As the Road Devils are pushed to the brink, Ice and Vix find intimacy where they never expected it: clothed, raw, and vulnerable. But if Ice reveals the darkest parts of himself – the violence he embraces to protect his family – can Vix accept him? And even if she does, can loving a man like Ice ever truly be safe?

“You kissed me like it meant something,” Samantha whispered. “Then disappeared like I never existed.” Anthony stared at her, jaw tight. “You heard half a sentence and ran. I spent years thinking you regretted me.” ----------- Samantha Meadows just got the chance of a lifetime, skating at Nationals with Anthony Vale, the golden boy of the rink in figure skating… and the most insufferable man she’s ever met. He’s arrogant, untouchable, and still technically partnered with his injured and possibly returning teammate, while She’s picking the broken pieces of her career after her ex dumped her for a flashier and better partner. Now forced into a temporary pairing, they have days to master trust, chemistry, and choreography, or crash hard under the spotlight. But the ice isn’t the only thing cracked. Anthony’s hiding a secret that could end his career… and hers. And when Samantha discovers the truth, she realizes she’s not just fighting for a medal… she’s fighting for her heart. In a world where one mistake can cost everything, how do you trust the person who never lets you in… and still holds the pieces of your past?

The day my husband, Reece Malcolm, reached the pole for his polar expedition, his childhood sweetheart who was sent away reappeared in his bedroom. Everyone had kept it from me. Erica Lowell had been by his side day and night. Though Reece said he didn't want her there, he still allowed her to stay by his side for four years as his assistant. "You have to believe me, Lucy. There's nothing between Erica and me," he used to say. Always so sure. Always so convincing. But when he returned, it was with Erica in his arms—heavily pregnant. "She threatened to kill herself, Lucy. I didn't have a choice," he said. "The baby's coming. I need you to raise it. You know you're the only one I've ever loved." Four years. Four years of silence, of waiting alone in a house that never felt like home. Now, the lawyer is hired. The assets are tallied. The divorce papers are signed and sealed. I'm done.

We got caught in a blizzard—me, my fiancé Melvin Dunn, a few of his colleagues, including Sally Blom. Middle of the night, I woke up shaking. My heavy-duty sleeping bag—the one built for minus forty—was gone. In its place? A flimsy summer quilt. Sally was curled up in my bag, fast asleep in Melvin's arms. I shoved him hard. "Why is she in my sleeping bag?" He pulled me aside, whispering, "Keep your voice down. Sally's kinda fragile—she's about to catch a cold. You're strong. You'll be fine." I pointed at my feet, already numb. "So I'm supposed to freeze to death for you two because she's 'fragile'?" He frowned. "God, Peyton, stop being so dramatic. It's just a sleeping bag. Think about the team for once." I laughed, tears slipping down my face. Didn't say another word. Just crawled back into the corner, grabbed the sat phone, and called my brother—Captain of Stormfang Rescue, an elite international search and rescue team. "Hugh, come get me. The coordinates are... Remember—I'm alone."

As the only expert in the world capable of rescue dives below 3,000 feet, I received a once-in-a-lifetime salvage contract worth tens of millions of dollars. I had dived in those same waters over a decade ago. My son's research submersible had been damaged on the ocean floor. After his oxygen ran out, he suffocated in the dark. The grief nearly destroyed me. My husband, Griffin Lattimer, held me through it, staying by my side through countless miserable nights. I found out later that he had personally redirected the only rescue vessel capable of reaching the depths our son was at to save his childhood friend's daughter. That girl had merely choked on a mouthful of water in the shallows. I divorced Griffin and threw myself into deep-sea salvage like a woman possessed, diving over and over until I knew the undercurrents of those waters better than I knew my own home. I never wanted another child to die the way mine did. Today brought the same stretch of ocean, the same crushed hull, the same depleted oxygen, and the same impossible odds. When I opened the client's file, I went completely still. I recognized the name and face inside instantly. I would never forget either of them for as long as I lived. I smiled and slid the folder back across the table to my partner. "I can't take this one."