Nineteen Minutes Novels & Stories

In the dead of this frozen apocalypse, the shelter's fusion core was on the verge of overload. I grabbed my repair kit and sprinted for the basement, only to have the guard captain's girlfriend, Miranda Dunn, step right into my path. "Everyone, come look! Zach’s about to dump poison into the vents. He's gonna kill us all!" Her voice cut through the air as she shrieked. "I didn’t approve a private room for him two days ago, and now, he wants us all dead!" The guards didn't bother asking questions. They slammed me hard against the freezing metal door. "Zach, are you going to kill us all over a room? We're taking you in for interrogation!" I stared at the control panel, its readings spiking into the red, and shouted, "If the core blows up, none of us will make it out alive!" But they were too busy trying to impress Miranda and brushed off my warning, thinking I had lost it. Nineteen minutes remained before the core exploded.

At nineteen, you're expected to have the perfect blueprint. To navigate university effortlessly and finally act like a real adult. ​Kelsey Vance is ready for it. ​But reality doesn't care about blueprints. When the illusion fades, nineteen becomes less about having the answers, and more about the beautiful chaos of who you become when the expectations vanish.

Nubia has her life planned out. She is working on her master's degree in post colonial studies. She has a quiet apartment and a schedule she sticks to. Every Wednesday night she finishes class at nine thirty, walks to the bus stop, and waits. The bus is always late. There is always a stranger sitting on the bench. He wears headphones and draws in a sketchbook. He never speaks. She calls him Pencil Boy in her phone and does not think much about it. Then one October night the bus is delayed by forty three minutes. Eli studies architecture but he draws people instead of buildings. He has been sketching Nubia for six weeks without ever saying a word. He is quiet and pays close attention to things. He has learned to keep people at a distance because it feels safer that way. But when the cold night gets to Nubia and he gives her his hoodie, the silence between them finally breaks. What begins as pie at a late night diner turns into a Wednesday night tradition. Then a friendship. Then something much deeper. As Nubia and Eli grow closer, they must face the things that make them different. Race. Class. The dreams they are chasing. The families they come from. And the strong pull of a connection neither of them can ignore. Set over one school year, 43 Minutes is a warm and sensual love story about two people learning to truly see each other. It is about letting yourself be seen. And it is about the moments that change your life in less than an hour but stay with you forever.

“Tell me what you want from me.” * * * | Athena Hendrix | The Spades are the second highest ranking mafia. As daughter of the mafia's leader, Athena Hendrix is nothing less than the most skilled in the mafia. She is usually sent on solo or duo missions, her father knowing she doesn't need anyone else. | Callum H. Rivers | The youngest man to ever take over a mafia, let alone the highest ranking mafia. As leader of The Skulls, Callum H. Rivers is brutal and ruthless. With his nickname "Hades," this man kills anyone who gets in his way. | The Spades Vs. The Skulls | As two of the highest ranking mafias, these rivals reek of nothing but hatred for each other. They are enemies; nothing more, nothing less. What happens when these two meet? * * * TW: mentions of violence, self-harm, etc.

My fiancé, Luca, dragged me along to a party with his crew. We had barely walked through the door before his boys were hounding him to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven." "Angelina, babe, come join us!" Fiona, Luca’s "best friend" from back home, called out to me with a smirk. I shook my head and slipped onto a barstool, my fingers nervously tracing the rim of my glass. I watched them huddle in a circle, drawing cigar bands with names scribbled on them. Luca drew Fiona. They shared a laugh before disappearing into the storage room behind the bar. "Seven minutes! Starting... now!" someone hollered, followed by a chorus of whistles. But seven minutes came and went. The door stayed shut. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty... I finally stood up, my heart hammering against my ribs, ready to see what was going on. Just then, I heard Luca’s friends whispering in a thick Sicilian dialect. "This American guy... her head is greener than a lemon tree in Palermo and she doesn’t even know it." "I bet Luca and Fiona are having the time of their lives in there right now." "Poor Boston girl. Look at her, sitting there like a loyal little dog. Hilarious." I froze. My blood turned to ice, and the air felt too thin to breathe. Suddenly, the storage room door creaked open. Luca walked out, wiping sweat from his brow, followed closely by Fiona, who was busy smoothing out her rumpled shirt. "Whoa, how was it? Seven minutes in heaven live up to the hype?" someone teased. Luca smirked, his eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Better. I didn't want to leave."

In university, it was common to play games and spice up the school life. But at work? Oh hell no! Reigna Amethyst was a typical office worker, not until she found her boyfriend cheating with her older sister. And, with a little twist, her heartbroken self was picked up by a cute kid who led her to her boss, the cold and detached CEO of XCC corp., Carlisle Amoroso. "I have to keep an eye on you." intimidatingly, he closed their distance, a gleam of malice and threat evident in his piercing green orbs. "Speak about my son and you'll regret it your entire life." To keep his secret to the world, along with the newfound spark of entertainment by messing with the innocent Reigna, Carlisle made themselves a player of the game '7 minutes in heaven' to have all sorts of reason to keep her close. "Secretaries don't do this, sir..." flustered, she sat on his lap with hesitancy in her flushed face. Can her gentle heart keep up with the lust incarnate himself? And oh...what if there's another twist? Carlisle's ex, the birth mother, returns?

Victor’s private jet has barely cleared the runway when Amelia gives in to the one man she’s never allowed to touch: her husband’s son. She has everything money can buy, except the intense, raw passion her body craves. Ethan has the fierce intensity that finally gives it to her. For nineteen stolen days they turn the penthouse into their personal playground: the marble island where she loses herself in his embrace, the glass shower where he holds her dripping wet, the marital bed where they lose all control night after night while Victor is away thirty thousand feet in the air. She was a bored trophy wife. Now she’s obsessed, counting the hours until her husband leaves again, because only Ethan can break through her walls, ruin her composure, and make her forget she ever belonged to anyone else. Nineteen days. No limits. No mercy. And when Victor comes home, she’ll greet him with the memory of Ethan still burning inside her, smiling like the perfect wife.

Five minutes before the ceremony, I called off the wedding. In my last life, right in the middle of our vows, Sandra Crowe suddenly demanded another 300 thousand dollars as a "marriage guarantee." She pulled out her phone in front of everyone, chin tipped up, a payment screen glowing. "Three hundred thousand! Not a dollar less, or I'm not putting on that ring." Ten years together, and we were right at the finish line. I forced myself to go through with it and transferred the money. It was what Dad had scraped together over two years for his kidney transplant. That same night, his condition crashed. I went to Sandra and asked if she could lend me the money back for his treatment. She yelled at me instead. "You're asking me for money on our wedding night? Seriously? That 300 grand is mine! Don't even think about touching it!" Dad missed his window and died in the hospital hallway. The day he died, Sandra was out shopping with her friends, dropping thousands on a Chanel bag without a second thought. "Good. One less burden. At least he won't drag us down anymore." When I filed for divorce, she brought her guy friend to the funeral and made a scene, knocking over Dad's urn and damaging the headstone. Then she turned around and accused me of sexual assault, demanding 500 thousand in damages. Mom couldn't take it. She drank pesticide and died. On my way to pursue the case, I was hit by a car. When I opened my eyes again, I called off the wedding. Then Sandra stepped closer, already pulling up her payment screen. "Transfer me three hundred thousand as a marriage guarantee, or we're not getting married." I tossed the ring into the trash. "Works for me."

A doomsday blizzard hit just before Christmas. The zombie virus exploded. Our fortress was a top-tier ski resort. Now, it was about to fall. My husband, Ethan, was a former Navy SEAL. Our head of security. He swore his defense system was foolproof. The blizzard knocked out the power. But he’d sent all the backup generator fuel to the summit. Just to light up a Christmas tree for Chloe. He even had a few guards up there with them, throwing a party. In my last life, I fought him. I herded everyone into the last bunker. But Chloe whined. A crowded Christmas was boring, she said. She stormed out of the safe room and ran right into the jaws of the horde. Ethan carved a path through the horde to secure the walls. Then he sat in silence, cradling Chloe’s bones. He pretended he wanted to start over with me. He let me get pregnant with his child. The day I gave birth, he knocked me unconscious and dumped me into a nearby zombie nest. He always rescued me just before I died. He’d inject me with a serum that kept me from turning. Nineteen times, he threw me to the zombies. I died in agony as they tore the flesh from my bones. "If you hadn't sabotaged my defenses," he’d hissed, "if you hadn't crashed our party and led the horde right to us, Chloe would still be alive!" I opened my eyes. I was back. Christmas Eve.

It was meant to be the happiest night of Layla’s life—her birthday, the moment she officially stepped into adulthood. Instead, she walked into a crowded nightclub and watched her boyfriend laugh, drink, and kiss another girl while the world looked on. Humiliation followed swiftly. Dragged into a cruel game of Truth or Dare, Layla became the night’s entertainment. When the bottle landed on her, the challenge sounded harmless enough: seven minutes in heaven with a man of her choice. Everyone expected her to choose him. She didn’t. Her gaze went to the man watching silently from the shadows—his uncle. The one man she was never supposed to want, yet couldn’t look away from. Seven minutes was all it took to spark something forbidden. Something dark. Something that refused to stay contained. When the night ended, nothing returned to normal. He became her obsession and most dangerous temptation. And Layla found herself willing to risk everything—family, reputation, even her own heart—for a man she was never meant to desire. This is a story of betrayal, passion, and the pull of a love that should never exist. Once caught in it, there is no turning back.