Apocalyptic And Post Apocalyptic Fiction

In a post apocalyptic world, where staying alive is an impossibility, home is in the Compound, surrounded by prison cells and strangers that are family. Keeping them safe is my priority but its hard to keep my focus when she wont leave me alone. Shes too young, too innocent to be tainted by me and yet I cant keep my eyes off of her. Things get really difficult the day we return from our latest mission, and now its impossible to ignore her, but I have to keep her alive if I want any chance of corrupting her.

The day after we set our wedding date for the tenth time, my fiancé reached past me to kiss his adopted sister. He presented crimson roses to her as she descended from the stage. "My princess, in this lifetime, I'll only ever be your protector." I stood quietly beyond the cheering crowd, then turned and walked away without looking back. After five years of engagement, this was the moment I finally gave up hope.

In the year 2030, an apocalypse happen in the blink of an eye, and humanity is in great danger. "Do I have what it takes to survive them all?" That is the question that has been stuck in Shawn's mind as he wanders to chaos, destruction, and unexpected situations that he will encounter in this apocalyptic world. But the question that he should ask himself is: "Will the world dies upon me?"

Trisha Redfern is a Vampire Lawyer who works in the court of King Damien Vandolff in a post apocalyptic New York. One of Damien's most trusted inner circle members and most talented lawyers, Trisha suddenly becomes the target for all Aristocratic Vampires when she chooses to fight against one Noble Vampire, Vandal Rudolf, when he tortures a human child. Several obstacles are led in her way as Damien himself comes after her to teach her a lesson. But Trisha is determined to stand by her decision even if it costs her, her life, for she cannot abandon a heart that was once human. When all hope seems lost, unexpected help comes in the form of Lucas Donovan, the Supreme Werewolf Alpha. But everything isn't always what it seems. Why does Lucas suddenly want to help his arch enemy? Why is Vandal so determined to get the child back at all costs? And most importantly, what's so special about that child that Trisha is willing to face the wrath of her entire race in order to protect him?

Traveling to the center of the earth to retrieve her son from Center Land is intense enough without having to deal with Amazon rogue women, prehistoric animals, and... yes... the aliens and zombies that they thought they'd left on the surface are there too! Is there no escape from the horror? They have a plan to end the aliens and zombies once and for all... but... will it work? The answer is in "Center Land", book three of the apocalyptic romance-thriller series, Kendra's Journey.

Guess The Genre Book 2! There's a hidden motive behind the invitation of the game. The ten people who got dragged to the island will be "sent" to different dimensions to save worlds. Yenn, Byul, Jiwoon and the rest are first sent to an 'Easy mode' Arc a.k.a. a low level world as a tutorial for them. As they picked up talents and even abilities, all ten separate and was sent to different worlds by pair. Byul and Stanley got paired up and chose the Apocalyptic worlds. Both of them started to fight different kind of monsters, zombies, plants and etc. While they gone through thick and thin, both of them naturally got feelings of attachment towards the other. However, the attachment Stanley felt for him was something deeper than he imagined.

In my previous life, the apocalyptic haunts descended without warning, and the whole world plunged into a living hell. After two days of starvation, my husband and mother-in-law tied me to a chair. I begged them desperately, but they did not spare me. Instead, to keep their "food" fresh, they sliced the flesh straight from my leg. When I was reborn, I spent every last cent of my fortune to hold a grand, extravagant funeral, for myself. My husband and mother-in-law thought I had lost my mind. However, what they had not known was this: anyone who buried themselves could claim the treasures laid to rest in their own coffin: golden coins that could command the anomalies of the end times. Which meant that with this extravagant funeral, I would stand invincible when the apocalypse arrived. That time, without me as their "meat" and scapegoat… I would see how long they lasted.

Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | 18+ | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Pace It started with a kiss I don’t remember giving. A rooftop. A moan. Someone’s fingers buried in my hair like they belonged there. A mouth on my throat that said I tasted like something they lost in another life. I wasn’t dreaming. The city was already cracking beneath me. Power grids flickering like dying stars. Tech failing. Screens static. The sky bruising in strange new colors. Everyone said it was coincidence. Collapse. Noise. But I knew better. The moment I felt her breath on my skin — even if I couldn’t see her — I knew the end had already arrived. And I had something to do with it. Ten butterflies followed me after that. Not literal ones. Not always. They shimmered in my periphery. Each the wrong color. Each too vivid. Each drawn to me like heat to blood. They touched me in dreams. They watched me when I undressed. They whispered without words. I could taste their want. Some called me cursed. Broken. Unstable. But the truth is simpler. I’m blooming again — and they all feel it. They don’t love me. They remember me. They remember what I used to be — what I still am, underneath the silence. One of them burned me with just a kiss. One broke my spine with kindness. One slid her hand under my shirt like it was always hers. One cries when she touches me. One never speaks, but her eyes dig. One wants to keep me. One wants to ruin me. And one just wants to finish what we started. They think I’m choosing. I’m not. My body already did. And now the bloom inside me is turning darker.

"You are truly here," said the man softly, his eyes running over her as if trying to make sure she was who he thought she was. Erin couldn't hide her confusion. "Do I know you? I'm not sure we've met before.” “Not in this lifetime, but you are mine," he replied confidently. “Excuse me?" Erin asked in utter confusion. Who was this guy, and why the heck was he saying this weird stuff to her? “I know you don't know me yet," the man continued.“But you will, Edvana. You will know me because you are my mate.” ************ When Erin agreed to take Devon up on his claim of being her destined mate, she did not expect to be transported back in time to a pre-civilization era during a werewolf civil war! How was she going to make it back to the future/present alive, when she was now caught in the middle of an apocalyptic battle?

Crimson Bloomed: Ascend Post - Apocalyptic Horror | Action | Yuri Harem | Coming - of - Age | Rated R | Mature Content | Slow Burn The city looked like it had been devoured — chewed up by fire, time, and whatever came after — then spit back out in jagged pieces. Dead drones dangled from power lines like rusted ornaments. Neon signs flickered above fractured pavement, their broken scripts glitching into gibberish. Down the block, a half - melted smartcar burned slow, casting warped shadows across the skeletal remains of a coffee bar. Behind a crumpled tram car, someone crouched low, breath tight in her lungs. The shrieking hadn’t stopped. It came again — sharp, bone-deep, the kind of sound that latched onto your spine and refused to let go. She checked the signal jammer at her hip. Still blinking. Still active. Not for long. They were tracking her. She moved fast — boots silent over broken glass, slipping through the breach in an old laundromat’s wall. Her body moved from muscle memory now: slide through, duck left, over the washer, don’t look at the corpse slumped by the dryer. Out the back. Up the fire escape. On the rooftop, she halted. Not alone. Someone was already there — silhouetted against the bleeding sunset. Combat jacket. Short - cropped hair. Pulse rifle slung casually over one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Like this was just another rooftop, just another war. “Don’t move,” the voice snapped. She lifted her hands slowly. “I’m clean.” “Everyone says that.” “Scan me.” beat. Then the girl stepped forward, rifle still raised but gaze locked in. Dark eyes, sharp, searching — not just for weapons, but tells. Fear. Lies. She lowered the rifle half an inch. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” That wasn’t the line she expected.