Black Female Sci Fi Author Novels & Stories

Pain instantly spread throughout Katherine's body. She collapsed, helpless, her eyes brimming with tears as she begged, "Emma, I'm sorry, I'm sorry... Ah!" Katherine let out an agonizing scream, then fell silent, her body limp in my jaws. As she neared death, I released her neck and spoke gently, my voice a mix of curiosity and controlled anger. "Katherine, the Beta evolution moon stone, the sensitivity enhancement stone, the ancient-crafted stone - I made them all. Why did they only work for you?"

“She has the gift of sight.” At this, the beautiful woman, Lilandra lifts her eye patch for all to see and I have to bite my lip from gasping aloud. Her entire eyeball is black, like the abyss. As much as I try to look away, I cannot help but stare. Her black eye has the pull of a black hole, the grip of the primordial seed that gave birth to the universe and power emanates from it. It is terrifying as it is beautiful. From far away, I hear Hunter speak and I quickly tear my gaze away. This woman, this Lilandra is no ordinary Gamma. She is a witch.

So you're a big Lovecraft fan? - Definitely. A thousand times more Cthulhu than any shining vampire. - She smiled. — I like some fantasy books. Writers like Laurell K. Hamilton and Patricia Briggs, who take ancient legends like vampires and werewolves and bring them to the contemporary world. There's this amazing author called SC Green who wrote these dark steampunk books set in dinosaur-infested Georgian London. My friend Derek referred me. He is always giving me new books to read. He's studying mythology, so he likes that sort of thing. — What is your favorite creature?

Their deadly looks are only outdone by the deadly Neron weapons they point at the two of us. But there in the middle is a woman. Her eyes are full of wonder and fear, but she’s trying very hard to mask both right now. She’s petite, average height. She has soft, curly brown hair, and warm brown eyes. Her cheekbones are sharp and her hands small and delicate. But I know the power behind her voice. “Valen Nero, Nova Ainsley,” she says, stepping forward. “I’m Arden Black.”

Raven I stood in front of the mirror, my reflection staring back at me. Today was the day I would return to Black Stone Group, not as the dutiful wife Emerson expected, but as a woman with a plan. My hair was neatly styled, and my makeup was flawless, every detail carefully crafted to present myself as the perfect, composed wife of the Alpha. But beneath this polished exterior, a storm brewed. This wasn’t just about showing up for work. It was about plotting my revenge, learning Emerson’s secrets, and slowly tearing down the world he thought he controlled.

“It’s never over.” She turned toward the shattered archway where dawn spilled into the snow. “But it’s our turn to write what comes next.” Zevran fell into step beside her, their hands brushing once—no claim, no confession, just alignment. Behind them, the Court whispered. Ahead of them, the mountains waited. And beneath them, far below, the heart of the world dreamed of a Black Moon rising—and the woman who might finally teach it mercy.

About the Author Nethaniah Miesha (Author's pen name) is an eighteen year old college student who's been fond of written literature and novels since her childhood. Even though she's been a fan of writing stories, she couldn't find the motivation to finish a story until 'What is Love?'. She believes that her writing has a purpose and that she's writing for a reason.

RAINA’S POV I heightened my guard, let my fork rest on my plate, and leaned back in my chair to slowly look up. I found three of the most respected, well-liked females in Kain’s pack. I blinked. “If you’re here to—” “Stop. We've been dying to say something,” the first one with long black braids said. She put down her plate on the table and clapped her deep-brown hands in excitement. I believe she was Zerika, the Gamma female here. She sported the kind of grin that made people think twice.

Their soft wails filled the sterile room as if the sound itself sought to cut through the mansion’s cold silence. But there would be no rescue, no salvation. Soon, a woman in a white lab coat, her nameplate showing, Dr. Ana Blackwood walked among the cribs, her eyes scanning the infants with a detached clinical focus. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly, her face pale and expressionless. She had been with the Black Order for decades now, her loyalty and her role in Project Regen the Elixir of Youth were pivotal. She was no stranger to death or suffering—it was merely a part of her work now.