Cli-fi: Climate Change Fiction Novels & Stories

Today is the sixth time my girlfriend, Shirley Lake, is supposed to meet my parents. My parents and I wait at the restaurant for four whole hours. I call her over and over again, but she never picks up. Just as I'm about to try one last time, I see Shirley's childhood sweetheart, Joshua Solomon, post a picture on his Instagram, with the location tagged at a suburban hotel. The picture shows a woman's pale back, one shoulder bare, with a striking red spider lily tattoo visible on her skin. Underneath the picture was the caption, "We'll make it from 18 to 80." A mutual friend comments, "First-love couples are the sweetest!" I silently hit the like button, then comment, "Make sure to get buried together when you die. And don't come back to haunt anyone else."

I suffered from severe skin hunger syndrome. Every waking moment, I wanted to cling to Charles Hansen. At night, I craved his touch even more obsessively. In Oakhaven's social circle, everyone knew me as the clingy, brainless rich wife. When I once again insisted on tagging along on Charles's business trip, a series of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [The cannon-fodder wife is at it again. She just has to follow him and ruin this client meeting too. The moment the male lead comes back, he finally files for divorce.] [She's unloved by both parents, emotionally unstable, and suffers from skin hunger syndrome. In the end, she develops depression and dies alone beneath a bridge.] [Good thing our heroine saves the deal and helps the male lead secure the client. This is also when he starts falling for her.] [I can't wait for the romance arc! Cold CEO x secretary is such a perfect pairing. Can this annoying side character disappear already?] I slowly looked toward Daisy Allen, the secretary waiting by the door to leave on the trip with Charles. Then, for the first time, my arms loosened from around him.

During the mandatory freshman orientation camp, my skin had flared up with a severe allergic reaction, so I didn't use the plastic washbasin the school handed out. Instead, I opened my suitcase and took out the custom silver basin I had brought from home. My roommate, Louisa Carter, immediately made a snide remark, drawling, "You're really something, huh? Kids from broke families like us are lucky to have any basin at all." I didn't bother responding. I simply pulled out my facial essence to do a cold compress, but she immediately rushed over, slapped the bottle out of my hand, and jabbed a finger at my face. "Bet you get tens of thousands a month for living expenses. You have a sugar daddy, don't you? Don't you feel guilty making your folks work their fingers to the bone back on the farm? People like you don't deserve to be at our school. I'm reporting you to the student counselor." I laughed in disbelief and slapped her. … The next morning, the family photo I'd left on my desk had been slashed to ribbons. Across the back, carved in ink, were the words: 'Daughter of a homewrecker. Go to hell.' I went straight to the police. While officers pulled the dorm security footage, our student counselor and the university president rushed in. The moment the president saw the man whose face had been cut apart in my photo, his legs nearly buckled. He almost dropped to his knees.

Oluchi never thought love would find her this late. She has spent her life following rules, hiding pieces of herself, and convincing the world she was fine. Then comes Amina the soft-spoken lesson teacher with a fire in her eyes, the one who makes Oluchi’s world feel both terrifying and alive. What begins as stolen glances soon becomes a dangerous longing. Desire. Fear. Hope. Everything Oluchi was told to bury begins to rise. But in a world that punishes women for wanting more, for loving differently… Can Oluchi risk it all for love? Or will survival demand her silence once again? The Love That Changed Everything is a tender, messy, and unforgettable story about late-found love, queer longing, and the price of choosing yourself.

At my engagement dinner with Greg Willis, the Rossi mafia family’s underboss, his assistant, Sydney Carlson, casually tossed a half-eaten cookie on his plate in front of everyone. Greg didn’t react. In full view of the guests, he calmly picked it up and ate it. That night, after we returned, I told him I wanted to call off the engagement. He rubbed his brow with his fingertips, his voice steady in that familiar, composed way of his, yet there was distance beneath it. “All this,” he said, “over a cookie?” “She already took a bite,” I corrected him. He fell silent for a moment before replying in a low voice, “Zoe, you’ve always been sensible. Why get hung up on something so small?” “I’m not hung up,” I said evenly. “I just don’t want to settle.” When he saw that I wouldn’t back down, something complicated flickered in his eyes. Then, his tone hardened, almost like a warning. “Think it through carefully. Don’t you regret it.” He was certain I couldn’t leave him. After all, he was a mafia underboss. There were countless people eager to take the position of Mrs. Willis, and I was nothing more than a minor employee at his company. What he didn’t know was that I had never coveted the title of his wife. All I ever had for him was love. But now, that love was gone, and once I turned away, I would never look back again.

My superior loved tricking me into wearing tight-fitting pencil skirts to serve wine to sleazy clients while sticking close to them. Then, she would hint that I was single and a valid target while she excitedly waited for the clients to make a move on me. It was all in the name of checking the integrity of the clients and whether they were worthy business partners or not. The moment a client fell for it, she would rush over with righteous anger and throw wine in their faces. Then, she would lecture me with a voice heavy with anguish. “Do you lack money so much that you’d throw your dignity away just for better results?” She would trample all over my dignity to set up her image as a refined, noble woman. This time, she even prepared a gown with a super low neckline and pushed me to serve a client with a rich and powerful background. She threatened me by saying that if I did not go, she would deduct my bonus for three whole months of full attendance. But when I saw the familiar, cold man sitting in the seat of honor, it was my turn to laugh. If my brother saw me serving wine in this kind of dress, I did not doubt that by tomorrow, the company would be under my name.

It happened in Paris, year 2015 when Aemee Harlene Santiago visited there to get some space and to breath some fresh air after her break up with Josiah – her ex-boyfriend. On her last day in Paris she decided to go to club to get some drinks, but someone she didn’t know approached her, it’s Clifford Samonte. In an hours of talking they get along pretty well. Because of so much drinks they had, Aemee had one-night stand with him. After that night she left him, thinking that it’ll be there 1st and last meeting, but Aemee got pregnant, she hid the child from him and doesn’t have any plan to introduce it to Clifford. After how many years, their path crosses again. That starts their roller coaster love story.

At one in the morning, the general manager posted the project assignments in the group chat and tagged everyone. I reviewed my responsibilities carefully, going through each detail to make sure I understood exactly what was expected of me. When I was done, I typed a simple "OK" and hit send. Two seconds later, my phone rang. It was him. As soon as I answered, his voice came through, icy and sharp, filled with unmistakable disgust. "Eric, I'm very disappointed in you. I must have been blind to trust you with anything important." My mind went completely blank. "What… what do you mean?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. What he said next was something I never could have imagined.

Four years ago, Jessie Monroe made the biggest mistake of her life— she fell into the arms of a stranger who felt like danger and desire wrapped into one. One night. One choice. One secret she never planned to reveal. Now she’s a hardworking single mother trying to rebuild her life… until she walks into Diaz Enterprises looking for a job and comes face-to-face with the man she never thought she’d see again. Dominic Diaz. Billionaire. Cold. Magnetic. Unforgettable. The moment his storm-gray eyes land on her, he freezes. He remembers her the girl he spent one wild night with… the girl he left sleeping in his hotel bed before dawn… the girl whose body and lips have haunted him for four long years. Jessie panics. She can’t let him get close. Not when she has a four-year-old son with his eyes… his smile… his DNA. Dominic wants answers. Jess wants distance. But fate wants chaos. Because Dominic Diaz is not a man who lets go and Jessie Monroe is running out of places to hide.

Book 1 of the Blackfern Werewolf Series. Completed - A fully edited version was put up Jan 2024 - please log out and log back in to read this finalized version. It's hard being a half-blooded werewolf… especially when you have no idea that werewolves actually exist. Clementine – I did not know what to expect when I decided to move with my dad and brother to Blackfern Valley in backyard British Columbia. The first thing I noticed was how ridiculously fit and good looking everyone was. Then I started to notice the odd behaviour, comments and how everyone in the town just seemed to hate me. Well, everyone excluding Liam, he seemed like the only friendly person in the Valley… Liam – I was not expecting my world to be shaken so hard when a half-breed moved into the pack. Half-breeds were extremely rare, and often hunted and terminated by pure-blood werewolves if they do not develop a wolf at sixteen. I thought that when his Uncle Jed's reign had ended, that the hatred would have died with him… I was wrong. They were after Clementine and something inside of me could not let that happen…