Post-apocalyptic Fiction Novels & Stories

In the fifth year after migrating to a new country, my wife, Nyra Sinclair, brings her first love, Jacob Griffin, and his daughter, Zoe Griffin, home with her. "Jacob and Zoe are new to this country, so they shall be staying with us for the time being." I get into a huge fight over this matter with Nyra. On my birthday, Nyra hands me a divorce agreement. She urges, "Hurry up and sign it. Jacob needs a green card. We'll have to go through a fake divorce first." With a frown on my face, I try to pry for more details from Nyra, only to get accused that I don't have any sympathy for Jacob at all. A short while later, I see Jacob's latest post on Instagram. "Nyra is getting a divorce for my and Zoe's sake! We finally have a place to call home!" I just leave a like there quietly. After leaving my signature on the divorce agreement, I lodge a request to my company so that I can fly back to my home country, Myrthia.

On our son Benjamin White’s sixth birthday, my husband, Finnian White, stayed out all night taking care of his sister-in-law, Violet Soar. His reason was that she had called because she sprained her ankle. I called him dozens of times, but all my calls were declined. Then, I saw Violet post on her social media feed with the caption: [Finnian is such a good brother-in-law! He came right over when I called!] The attached photo showed Finnian holding her slender ankle. Heartbroken, I confronted him and asked what he had done with Violet that night. He looked at me coldly and said, “Why does your mind always go straight to the gutter? All you know how to do is throw a tantrum at me!” Even Benjamin looked confused and said, “Dad just took care of Aunt Violet for one night, Mom. Why are you acting like a shrew?” Their cold attitude hurt me. This was not the first time. I finally decided to give up, activate the system, and leave this world.

As panic sweeps through the city and everyday streets collapse into chaos, Ciprian is driven by one unshakable instinct: protect Adam at all costs. When an unexplained catastrophe turns the urban landscape into a pressure cooker of fear and survival, nothing matters more than keeping his best friend alive. In this fast-paced short story, a sudden crisis forces two friends to confront more than danger. As tension rises and the city descends into disorder, buried emotions, unspoken attraction, and complicated feelings come to the surface. What begins as survival quickly becomes something deeper, binding their fates together in ways neither of them expected. Set against a backdrop of urban collapse, panic, and uncertainty, this emotional short fiction explores friendship, loyalty, and love under pressure. Perfect for readers who enjoy character-driven stories, disaster scenarios, slow-burn emotion, LGBTQ+ themes, and intimate moments set during world-altering events. A gripping short story about connection, courage, and the fragile line between friendship and something more—meant to be read in one sitting, but felt long after.

Trying to escape her dark past, Elisha moves to the island of Lai’eloa, hoping for a fresh start. On her first night on the island, she shares a brief, but insanely hot kiss with the sexy Jordan McAlister. Unsure of his relationship status and not wanting to start something new so soon, she blows him off. After his chance meeting with Elisha, playboy Jordan is confused about how he feels about her. He knows there’s something special about her, but he’s never been in an actual relationship before. So, he does something he’s never done for any other woman; He pursues her. Can Jordan and Elisha find a happily ever after together? Or will those who hide in the shadows keep them apart? Content Warning–This book contains dark scenes, including drug use, stalking, kidnapping, suggestions of rape/S.A., and death. This book is rated R18+. All names and places are works of fiction, and this work is under the copyright of the author. #DarkRomance #R18+ #FemaleLead #PainfulLove #Steamy #Betrayal #Obsession #Posessive #Jealousy

Christian wants only revenge on the man who destroyed his father's life, and he doesn't care who he makes the victim of his plans, as long as he achieves his goal. On the other hand, a married couple, the twins Lynnet and Linda, one scheming, envious with a heart full of evil, the other naive, gentle, who has been mistreated by everyone, face each other for Christian's love. Whom will the man choose? Will he be able to discover the true face of the twins before an innocent is harmed? Registration with Safecreative under number 210715835980. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or adapted in any form or by any means without the express permission of the author. This novel is a product of my imagination, so it is fiction, the conflicts of the protagonists or the way they resolve them does not imply that I, as a person, endorse their methods of conflict resolution. I am against any psychological, physical or cyber violence. If you can't stand conflict situations or scenes of this kind. Then I suggest you look for another story and not continue with this one.

Gaea used to believe in love—the kind she wrote about so effortlessly. But after heartbreak silenced her heart, it also silenced her words. Three months. Not a single story. Not a single spark. Now, with a week left before she loses everything, desperation drives her to chase inspiration in the last place she ever imagined—a world of flashing lights, strangers, and dangerous possibilities. Then she sees him. A man who doesn’t just walk into the room—he owns it. And with one glance, he becomes the story she’s been waiting for. Bold and reckless, Gaea makes a choice that could change everything: she asks him to be part of her book. He says yes. But his condition? She has to give herself in return. What starts as a deal for inspiration quickly becomes something far more complicated—blurring the lines between fiction and reality, control and desire, ambition and emotion. As the story unfolds, so does something neither of them expected. But when the final page is written… Will it all end like a story should? Or will Gaea find herself trapped in one she can’t walk away from?

My secretary replaced me on my wedding day, walking down the aisle in a white wedding gown. The man I had loved for ten years threw the bridesmaid dress in my face and ordered me to wear it instead. "She is the bride now. You'll be next," he said coldly. My grandmother was so furious that she fell ill on the spot. Meanwhile, he and the secretary smiled brightly as they completed the wedding ceremony. After the grand wedding, the secretary posted photos of herself in her wedding gown on social media. The comments were overwhelmingly congratulatory. [Today is such a beautiful day, I finally got what I wanted. I hope those who try to ruin someone else's relationship will wake up soon.] She wrote. Chester Morrison replied to her post: [It is a great day. Don't ruin your good mood by some trash.] When I returned home, holding my grandmother's photo, who had passed away, I found them tangled together on the bedspread my grandmother had lovingly sewn for me, the one with a pair of Swan that symbolizes eternal love.

After I landed a five-million-dollar contract and saved the company from financial collapse, my CEO wife wrapped me in an excited embrace and said she wanted to have a baby with me. She took out her phone and showed me a virtual baby on an app she had just signed up for. "Look, honey," she said. "Isn't it adorable? You can even change how it looks. Do you like it? Once things settle down at the company, we can have a real one." That night, I came across a post by her male secretary on social media. It was a photo of a positive pregnancy test, with my wife's figure visible in the background. I did not comment. I just liked the post. When my wife noticed, she panicked and called me immediately. "Honey, it's not what you think. Please listen to me! I wanted to surprise you. The baby is yours! "Can you clear things up on social media for everyone? I promise I'll give you a child of your own soon." She insisted the baby was mine, yet she seemed to have forgotten that we had not shared a bed in six months. "End the pregnancy," I said. "We're finished."

After losing a game of truth or dare, my fiancé went to City Hall and married another woman. I had called him forty-seven times. In the end, the only answer I got was Seraphina’s Instagram story. In the photo, she and Vincenzo were holding a brand-new marriage certificate. She was smiling like she had won, and he was wearing the white shirt I had ironed for him that morning, his fingers casually pinching her cheek. One minute later, he called me. “Elena, don’t make this bigger than it is. It was just a game. Give me thirty days. I’ll divorce her, and then we’ll get married like we planned.” He thought I would forgive him the way I always had for the past three years. But this time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I simply liked Seraphina’s post and commented, Congratulations. Then I took off my engagement ring and left New York. He thought I was just throwing a fit. Only when his calls stopped going through, and his men searched the entire city without finding me, did he finally panic. But he had no idea. The Elena who loved him had died the moment he married someone else.

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."