Alone On The Island Novels & Stories

It was a name that symbolized our fresh start, our new life, and our journey together. I often found myself staring at the horizon, thinking about everything we had been through. The chaos of our past, the heartbreak, the betrayals, the endless struggles—it all felt like a distant memory now. Life here on the island was calm, serene, and it was everything we had dreamed of. But there were moments, fleeting moments, when I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still missing. One afternoon, as I sat on the porch with Isla in my arms, I watched as Leon played with the twins, their laughter ringing out across the beach. The sight warmed my heart, and for a moment, I allowed myself to rel

But I don't need to worry about Caitlin, once we get there, she got her own goones who take care of her, outside the island, she's their boss, but inside the island they are the ones who take care of her, all of them, Winter, Spring, and Summer, and yes those are their legal names, they are kind of partners, and kind of just friends, they all refuse to label their relation, but they work great together. "But the three seasons, aren't here yet," the operator says worriedly, because Caitlin without anyone to keep her tame is a menace to deal with. "They'll be there by tomorrow morning, but for now we need her as the boss Caitlin," I assure him and I could hear him, let out a breath of relief,

I just wanted to go back to the mainland. We were on an island. Remote. Isolated. I had no idea where exactly. From what I saw, no one else lived here. There were no other houses or signs of people. Just silence… broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the flapping of birds’ wings overhead. He shook his head. “You can’t live if you don’t eat.” I glared at him, but he only responded with that same calm, patient look. “Do you want your baby to die?”

There was no room for distraction. Just for thought. “You have been quiet,” Leonie said. “I think my head is just trying to understand that I really am here.” Leonie slowly nodded. Then she pointed forward. “We first arrive at several smaller islands. Some are barely inhabited. Some not. This performance alone fascinated Mara. Islands where there are probably no street lights at night. No advertising glowed. No emails arrived. Just nature. She suddenly wondered how people lived there. Whether they were happier. Or whether loneliness eventually found the same way to one.

"Nobody knows this island exists. The local government does not record property deeds in digital databases. We are completely untraceable." ​Julian wrapped his massive arms around her shoulders, pulling her flush against his chest. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of citrus and sea salt. He had spent his entire adult life building a fortress of fear and violence to protect himself from monsters. He had never imagined a life where he could simply stand in the sun. ​"Prepare to dock," Julian called out to Arthur, his voice carrying a light, unburdened authority. ​Arthur closed his book with a satisfying thud. He stood up, leaning on his wooden cane, and smiled at Elena.

A huge, sprawling house sat on an island that looked like it was dozens of miles away from the city. My heart sank the more I looked around the island. The beauty of the mansion and the colorful gardens couldn’t distract me from the fact that the house was the only one on the entire island. There was no other building in sight. I could tell Leon definitely bought the whole island, and for it to belong to him alone, there was no way I was getting off it easily. The helicopter landed, and as soon as Leon stepped out, a number of people came out of the house and bowed to him. It was very obvious that these were his people.

“The Third Tide’s about revelation. Truth. That’s what the Testament said.” Jonas looked at her, eyes shadowed. “And how exactly does truth drown people?” Sefina coughed, voice dry. “Because it takes away the lie you need to live.” --- They found the island on the third day. It was no more than a reef—flat, colorless, ringed with bones. No vegetation. No water. No sound but the endless shimmer of the light. Maya stepped off the boat with the dagger at her waist and the Testament wrapped in a black oilskin across her back.

Food was brought upstairs for us by the servants, so we literally didn't step out of our rooms until thirty minutes before our birthday. We were both standing in the clearing, facing the forest with our backs to the house. I was wearing a black sports bra and yellow booty shorts, and Adam was only wearing a pair of grey boxers. We were both barefoot and cold, wondering why they made us stand in the cold with such little clothing. I rubbed my arms to try and warm myself, but it was no use. The cold was seeping into my bone and my teeth were chattering. I heard footsteps behind me, indicating that uncle Travis and Aunt Meghan were coming toward us.

"A small, remote, southern island. There are few records of ship movements there. But, from sources in the harbour, there was a small ship chartered with no clear records. That's the only possible route." Dad heard everything on the other side of the phone, and the silence was more than enough to confirm that he knew what was coming next. "I'm going to move now," I said to Dad, more to myself, as if just speaking it could calm the rumbling anger. There was nothing more to talk about, no time to delay. My mind was full of images of Isabella isolated on a desert island, far from anyone who could protect her, and every second that passed felt like a dagger piercing my skin.

“None of your damn business Hanky. And when dafuq are we getting out of here? I’m done with this place.” “We’re not leaving here without my wife.” “Oh, I forgot.” “Speaking of wives, yours still not answering?” “Nope!” And it’s going to be her ass when I get back on that island. I guess their little spy crew didn’t realize that we were back online, at least visually, and could see them even if we still couldn’t hear them. The only man left on the island was the Pothead, which is like saying there were twenty kids instead of nineteen. Right now, he was playing with my youngest on the terrace while the women were in a huddle inside, planning who dafuq knew what.