Sci-fi Post Apocalyptic Novels & Stories

My mother's condition suddenly takes a turn for the worse. She begins coughing up blood, and the doctor says she must undergo surgery as soon as possible. I call my girlfriend, Daniella Dooley, who is working in another state. She is the leading gynecologist in the field and the only doctor with any hope of saving my mother. The moment she receives my call, she sets out without hesitation. But halfway through the journey, she tells me that an emergency surgery has cropped up and that she can't make it back. I crouch in the hospital corridor in despair, calling her again and again. All I can do is watch as my mother's heartbeat on the monitor grows weaker and weaker. On the 99th call, she finally answers. My voice is almost pleading as I say, "Daniella, my mother's condition is really critical right now. You're the only one who can perform this surgery. I'm begging you, please come back!" For a long time, she says nothing. I wait and wait, only for her to hang up without uttering a single word. Then, I see a post from her junior, Jackson Bleeth. It shows a sunny-side-up egg that she has just made for him with her precious hands. Accompanying it is a caption that feels almost provocative. "I had a little accident during surgery today. Not only did Daniella not blame me, but she even encouraged me." So the "emergency surgery" she mentioned is actually cleaning up Jackson's mess. At the moment when I am at my most desperate, she abandons me and chooses to go to another man.

【What should I do if I’ve fallen in love with my sister’s fiancé?】 I came across an Instagram post from an account with a default profile picture on my flight back to New York. The comments were brutal, each one harsher than the last. Then I saw a reply from a burner account: 【Don’t blame her. I was the one who led her on.】 【She acts tough, but she’s more fragile than anyone. I just can’t help feeling sorry for her.】 My finger froze on the screen, because the profile picture on that account was the cat my boyfriend, Vincent, had given me. With trembling fingers, I opened the poster’s profile. There was only one video on it. In the video, a woman had her back to the camera as she bent down to water a nearly dead plant, a silver bracelet on her wrist. It was the matching bracelet mom had left for my sister Clara and me before she died. For a long moment, I could barely breathe. Suddenly, I thought back to the first time I brought Vincent home to meet Clara. After one failed relationship, Clara had decided all men were the same. She looked at Vincent coldly and said, “He’s no different from the rest. One day, he’ll betray you too.” Vincent held my hand then and said, each word clear and steady, “If I ever betray Nora, may I lose everything.” Clara only scoffed, “Then we’ll see.” But if all of this was true, I was caught between the sister who had raised me and the man I had loved for five years. What was I supposed to do?

On Christmas night, I've roasted a whole turkey and paired it with the finest red wine. Then, I quietly wait for my boyfriend, Don Carlo Carlione from the Carlione family, to come home to me. When Carlo steps through the front door, he doesn't even spare me a glance. Instead, he throws his blood-stained coat onto the couch and starts undoing his cufflinks. "Something important is going on at the family HQ tonight, so I can't celebrate Christmas with you tonight." He sounds very casual, as though he's talking about the weather. I don't respond to him at all. Instead, I just slice my turkey quietly. Later on at 1:00 am, Carlo's ex-girlfriend, Lucia Caruso, uploads a social media post right on time. In the photo, she can be seen resting her head against Carlo's shoulder. The background shows a night sky filled with fireworks overcasting a grand bridge. The caption reads, "He told me he can always keep me company as long as I say the word." I don't hurl my phone in a fit of anger, nor do I call Carlo to demand for answers hysterically. Instead, I just leave a like on the post. 30 seconds later, Carlo calls me. For once, his voice is tinged with a hint of alarm. "This is just a misunderstanding! I'll definitely celebrate next Christmas with you!" I just shake my head with a soft sigh. "It's a shame that there's no next Christmas for us ever again."

When I return to my hometown for the holidays, my brother-in-law, Tyler Atwood, has completely forgotten to hide his latest social media post from me. "Ugh, Arlene is really vain! Her room is filled with useless things like figurines and dolls! They are such an eyesore! "My daughter wants to play with them, and yet Arlene claims that those figurines are limited-edition. Since she refuses to let Celeste play with them, she can forget about keeping them!" Tyler even starts chatting with the commenters in the comment section. "Once we're done with Christmas dinner, I'll lock the door and let Celeste smash everything she sees there. If they break, I'll just claim that Celeste doesn't know any better. What, is Arlene going to take what a five-year-old does seriously? "When the time comes, I'll just guilt-trip her and cry even louder. Let's see who my in-laws will help by then!" As soon as I park the car in the courtyard, I hear loud smashing noises coming from the second floor. My niece, Celeste Atwood, screams excitedly at the top of her lungs. "That meanie's things are all dead now! I'm going to break them all!" That's when Tyler welcomes me at the door with a fake smile plastered on his face. "You're back, Arlene! Celeste is helping you clean your room at the moment. She really is a nice kid. She knows that you like things clean, so she insists on cleaning your room for you."

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.

My husband, Henry Gibbons, is a man with a heart of gold. He has sponsored Felicity Lambert, an impoverished female college student who has come from the mountains, and yet I've never seen this person before. During the New Year holidays, Henry has traveled to the mountains to give Felicity some well-needed resources, but he ends up getting trapped there because of a blizzard. My heart aches for him, so I've shared the local news while praying for his quick return. But that's when I come across a video clip featuring a comic convention on the trending list. Henry, who claims that he's trapped in the mountains, can be seen wearing a cosplaying outfit. In the video, he's kneeling on the floor while helping a scantily-dressed young woman tie the bells to her ankles. The woman titters as she pats him on the head. "Thank you, Henry!" The caption of the video reads, "Daddy's love is the salvation meant for me and me only." I tap into the uploader's profile picture. The pinned post is a photo of the luxurious goods meant to be flaunted to the Internet. A pregnancy report sits next to those goods as well. "Daddy has told me that once that hag of a wife dies, these things will be mine!" In the comment section, Henry's smurf account has responded, "Be patient, my little minx. Her time will be up soon." At that moment, I find myself staring down at the New Year's dinner that I've just whipped up. Then, I dump everything into the trash can without hesitation.

Kaiya is an orphan found on the doorstep of the packhouse of The Red Shadow Pack, she was brought in as an Omega and made to clean up after the often cold and almost always arrogant Twin Alpha Heirs, Ace and Dylan. I have decided to break this story into parts…there are four connecting stories with an overarching story that threads them together.  We start with Chasing Their Unloved Luna Part 1: Finding The True Alpha Next is Chasing Their Unloved Luna Part 2: Guarding The Faithful Beta. After that will be Chasing Their Unloved Luna Part 3: Seducing The Noble Priestess This book will conclude with Chasing Their Unloved Luna Part 4: Hunting The Storm Bringer We have seen lots of twists and turns and tons of unexpected happenings, and there are lots of loose ends at the close of Part One so please stick with us as we continue our Journey. In Part 2, the focus shifts. We will see Kaiya and the boys in the background and may even get a surprise POV when something big happens involving them, but  now we will see Amina’s and her sisters stories and how they meet their mates. Not all chapters I post have a trigger warning, but many contain violence, sexual violence and other devious acts. If it is particularly triggering I try to include a warning. Your mental health is important, so if you read the warning and can't handle what happens, skip to the following chapter, or only read the start of the next chapter then skip to the next Thank you and please comment and reach out if you have comments/questions.

An intern started reforming the workplace and made an example of me. My CEO girlfriend, who claimed to love me more than life itself, said she would defend me by setting up an elaborate trap to destroy him. She demoted me from VP and promoted him instead. She bought the intern a luxury car and a mansion as his dorm. She said it was all part of the trap and begged me to be patient. Then my sister's heart condition worsened and she needed emergency surgery. I asked my girlfriend for a salary advance to cover the costs, and she agreed without hesitation. On the day of the surgery, I waited at the hospital from dawn to dusk. The money never came. All I got was a mocking post from the intern on social media. "My CEO's way too nice. Some employee tried hitting her up for a salary advance today. What if he just takes the money and bails? So I rejected it. "P.S. If you're gonna scam someone, at least make it believable." My sister died without treatment. Only then did my girlfriend finally call. "Don't be upset. Anna's surgery can wait a few more days. I'm playing the long game. "I'm building Lincoln up so high that when he falls, it'll destroy him completely. His birthday's coming up and I'll make sure he loses everything then. After that, we'll have that wedding you've been waiting for. Anna would love that." However, I had figured it out by now. The trap was just an excuse for favoritism. I was done with her.

The company had been losing money for two consecutive years. That year, with our biggest client suddenly going out of business, we lost nearly ten million dollars in receivables. On New Year's Eve, I sent out a company-wide apology email after much deliberation. The email stated, "At this moment, I regret to inform that we can only increase each employee's monthly salary by 20 dollars this year." An intern named Ingrid Little took a screenshot of the email and posted it online. In no time, her post started trending. The entire internet criticized me for being fake and pretending to be poor. They said that my shameless act was a blatant insult to my employees' hard work. "20 dollars doesn't even cover commuting!" "Why hasn't this garbage company gone under yet?" Ingrid replied to each comment with the same line: "I don't care about the money. I just feel insulted. I'm quitting tomorrow." The next day, I walked into the office with bloodshot eyes and turned on the company-wide broadcast. I announced, "Since some people believe I've insulted their dignity, you may submit your resignation immediately. However, you will no longer be entitled to the year-end bonus of 20 thousand dollars." Everyone gasped in disbelief. Ingrid turned completely pale, and some workers even rushed into my office impulsively. "Boss, this has nothing to do with me! I stand with the company!" After all, my company had increased salaries for 37 consecutive years and given an average raise of over 2,000 dollars each time. They wouldn't find a company like mine elsewhere.

Aurora is an orphaned pup, who had everything working against her since the pack she grew up in was raided. Through a happy coincidence, she and her sister were rescued by the Beta of a kind pack: the Midnight Protectors. But they are no ordinary group of werewolves. They are highly trained with special skills that make them exceptionally dangerous to any threat: but especially to vampires. When Aurora stumbles onto a mysterious cavern housing tombs, she can't possibly understand what she's unlocked. Her new pack has many secrets she has yet to understand and the biggest one is that they are housing the male destined to be her true fated mate. Javed is a thousand year old vampire stuck in the body of a seventeen year old male. His boyish good looks are incredibly misleading, no one should mistake how deadly he in fact is. And the lengths to which he would go to have his mate. Excerpt: As I leave dinner and move to walk back inside the packhouse, the cold chill from nights ago hits me. The very thing that set that fateful night in motion. The sun has just set and the air is thick with humidity. I have gotten used to this climate which is all the more reason the cold strikes me as bizarre. My eyes move to a post that sits just in front of the door, the crest of the pack is burned into it. “The Midnight Protectors; Light in the Dark.” I had seen it many times now, but never questioned its meaning. When the cold air hits my skin again, it makes me shake uncontrollably. I force my back to stiffen. “Not again,” I whisper, as I quickly move inside and go to my room. Locking the door.