Post Apocalyptic Outfit Ideas Novels & Stories

DISCONTINUED INDEFINITELY ********************************** WARNING CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT ********************************** Ashlee is a trouble maker who has been expelled so many times that she drove her parents to the edge of insanity. They had run out of ideas on how to get her to straighten up so they decided to send her to an all boys private school where her roommate and all of her classmates are, you guessed it, boys! Once she gets used to the nonstop flirting and staring she makes friends with a number of the guys and quickly realizes that half of them have crushes on her. Will being put here be a punishment or a hidden blessing, only time and her unique experience will tell in the end. ********************************** "You're a girl." He stated coldly glaring at me "You're a boy." I countered raising one eyebrow ********************************** "Ugh stop staring." I stated before adding "Where can I take a shower?" "Um well the showers here are down the hall but they're not private at all." Matt stated "We could guard the door for you so no guys go in." Max added "Awwwww thanks guys, should I strip in front of the whole school now or when you let them in the showers while I'm naked?" I replied sarcastically "Awe Ashlee we wouldn't do that." Matt said "But I wouldn't mind a Private showing." Max added with a wink

His best friend...His muse...His fantasy...Billionaire photographer Noah Caldwell has spent ten years biding his time for the chance to tell his best friend Raven Crowne the truth. He wants her. With the threat that brought him to her in the first place finally behind him, they begin a hot affair he's only dreamed about. And reality is far better than fantasy. Yet beautiful Raven has her own dark history, one he's trying desperately to release from her. But as their passion deepens and turns into more, his past rises up from the shadows to claim one last victim…and Noah could lose the only person he can't live without.Kelly Moran is a bestselling author of enchanting ever-afters. She gets her ideas from everyone and everything around her and there's always a book playing out in her head. No one who knows her bats an eyelash when she talks to herself.Kelly's interests include: sappy movies, MLB, NFL, driving others insane, and sleeping when she can. She is a closet coffee junkie and chocoholic, but don't tell anyone. She's originally from Wisconsin, but she resides in South Carolina with her three sons, her two dogs, and a cat. She loves hearing from her readers. www.AuthorKellyMoran.comA "Must Read" on USA Today's Lifestyle blog!Exposure is created by Kelly Moran, an EGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

Most kids want toys, candy, or a new puppy. Pearl Reed wants a dad. And not just any dad—she wants Detective Alex Ramos. Ava Reed is perfectly happy as a single mother. By day, she’s a world-class surgeon, running the most prestigious private hospital in the city. By night, she’s The Godmother, ruling one of the most dangerous mafia syndicates in the country. Saving lives on one end. Taking them on the other. Romance? Not on her agenda. But when her too-clever-for-her-own-good daughter pulls off the matchmaking stunt of the century, Ava finds herself sitting across from a man who is as charming as he is infuriating. Alex never saw it coming. One second, he was working a case. The next? He was being blackmailed by an eight-year-old into dating her mother. One fake date? Fine. One viral post announcing their engagement? Not fine. Being summoned for dinner by an eight-year-old with a five-step plan to make him fall in love with her mom? …Yeah, he’s in trouble. Ava has no interest in love. Alex has no interest in marriage. But Pearl? Pearl has other plans. And when Pearl sets her mind on something, not even a mafia war can stop her.

It's Thanksgiving, and I'm waiting for Zeke Jones to come home after cooking up an extravagant meal. When Zeke returns, he doesn't even glance at the meal I've prepared for him. Instead, he proceeds to pack a bag. "I can't celebrate Thanksgiving with you this year," he says. I take another bite of my turkey and say nothing. At the stroke of midnight, Zeke's first love posts a new photo on her social media page. In the photo, she's lying on Zeke's back with a bright smile on her face. The moon outside the window is bright. "Happy to spend Thanksgiving with good company," her caption reads. Instead of hysterically questioning Zeke about the post, I just tap on the "like" button without reacting in any way. Zeke calls me. His voice sounds panicked as he tries to explain himself. "Please don't misinterpret the post. I will definitely spend Thanksgiving with you next year…" I freeze for a few moments, letting out a small laugh. I don't offer him a reply. Next time, he says? Oh, Zeke, I'm afraid there won't be a next time.

In my dormitory, there was a poor student. With all the good intentions in the world, my roommates and I were eager to help her, not realizing how much our help would cost. She wasn't impressed by the hairdryer we offered, insisting on borrowing a branded one instead. The skincare products we gave her? They were applied to her feet. And, as if that wasn't enough, she specifically demanded luxury face cream. One day, I lent her my tablet to look up some information, and to my surprise, she secretly opened up my gaming app, spent all the diamonds and reward tickets I had saved for half a year, and left me empty-handed. When I asked her to pay me back, she turned the tables and posted a public message online, accusing me. "I'm just a poor student from the countryside, never played games before. Are the materials in the game really worth this much?" Before I knew it, the comment section was flooded with criticisms of me. In a fit of frustration, I fired back with a post of my own, throwing her into the spotlight. "Well, I suppose you've never tasted the bitterness of being cyberbullied, have you?"

My CEO husband developed a strange illness. His heart chose me, but his body chose his intern. He would vanish for ten days every month to see his intern for "treatment." “Zoe, the doctor says it’s a physiological dependency. My body chose Molly, but you’re the one I truly love, now and always!” To make me believe him, he swore vicious oaths and even went so far as to hurt himself to prove his love. My eyes burned red, but in the end, I softened. It wasn't until I was late in my pregnancy, when a falling billboard struck me and I miscarried. I called my husband again and again, but he never picked up. Then, moments later, I saw the intern’s post online. The caption wrote: [Unlocked a new identity: Mom. From now on, we’re a happy family of three!] In the photo, my husband looked at her with gentle affection. His hand rested on her belly and her prenatal report clutched in his other hand. That was when I realized the one his heart and body had chosen all along was her. At that moment, I knew our marriage was over.

By a twist of fate, my husband, Morgan Lancaster, and I perish together in a sea of flames. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the very day we received our marriage certificate. In my previous life, we appeared to be a loving couple in the eyes of others, yet Morgan refused to share a bedroom with me the entire time we were married. It was only moments before our deaths that I discovered I was merely a substitute for his first love and that he had chosen to remain chaste for her for life. After getting another chance at life, neither of us mentions the past. Instead, by mutual understanding, we file for divorce that same day. From that point on, we go our separate ways. Eight years later, Morgan shows up arm in arm with his childhood sweetheart, Freya Springer, at a business summit. He is now a prominent and celebrated rising star in the business world. Seeing me dressed in a plain outfit, he approaches with a glass of champagne. His tone drips with mockery as he asks, "Ms. Smith, even if you still have feelings for me, there's no need to dress like a waitress just to get close to me. You aren't hoping for a reconciliation, are you?" I say nothing and simply smile as I wave at someone in the distance. My son, Theo Coltrane, toddles over and tugs at the hem of my shirt. "Mommy, Daddy says that he's tired from waiting so long. When are you coming home with us?" The smile on Morgan's face freezes instantly, and he nearly loses his grip on the glass in his hand.

When the Earth slipped into a relentless, record-breaking heat, I exhausted everything I had to develop a constant-temperature shelter. Yet, my fiancée, Janine O’Connor, insisted on wearing a bikini and going out to sunbathe with her personal secretary. In my previous life, I stopped her. I warned her that an apocalyptic heatwave was coming, and that countless people would be burned to death simply by being exposed to the heat. However, her personal secretary looked as though he had suffered a great injustice. “I’m sorry, Will,” he said. “But I can’t bear to see Miss Janine stuck in a shelter for the rest of her life. I’ve done my research. This is a period of natural selection for the Earth. Only by adapting quickly to the environment can people truly survive.” Even so, I threatened my own life and forcibly brought Janine back into the shelter. Relying on the shelter I built, Janine survived the apocalypse and rapidly built a survivor base. However, on the second day after she became the base’s leader, she had me hanged outside the shelter and burned alive. “If you hadn’t forced me to come back, Mark wouldn’t have been devastated and killed himself in the heat! He was about to develop a new type of shelter, yet you stole all the credit! I’ll make you pay with your life!” Even after my death, her hatred didn’t fade. She ordered someone to skin me and turn my hide into a rug, stepping on it every day. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I tried to stop her from sunbathing with Mark Davis.

When my CEO wife, Nina Wynn, learned I voluntarily handed a multimillion-dollar project to her favorite assistant, Zach Channing, she thought her three-month cold treatment finally worked. Beaming, she suddenly suggested we fly to Ivesland for our long-delayed honeymoon. When Zach found out, he became jealous and threatened to quit. Panicked, she spent three days and nights comforting him, then canceled our honeymoon again with the excuse of a business trip, giving him my ticket instead. Later, she casually explained to me, "Romance is trivial. Work comes first. As the boss, I have to prioritize. You’re my husband; you should understand." I looked at Zach’s latest social post, which was a photo of the two of them leaning intimately with their hands forming a heart, and said nothing. I only nod. Thinking I’d become more thoughtful and obedient, she was pleased. She even promised to make it up to me with a more romantic honeymoon when they got back home. However, unbeknownst to her, I’d already resigned. The divorce papers were already signed, and there was no future for us ever again.

In order to take care of my father, who got hurt from a fall, I gave up on my chance to get promoted and even took a week's leave. On the day he gets discharged from the hospital, my dad hands me a mysterious envelope with a wide smile on his face. "Thank you for your trouble over the past few days, Luther. This is a little token of appreciation from me. You can buy yourself a nice pack of smokes." I rub my hands together, feeling warmth surging into my heart. But when I open the envelope, all I see is seven dollars. Still, I comfort myself in thinking that the sum isn't important at all. It's the thought that counts, after all. But the next day, I come across a social media post of my younger brother, Felix Grayson, who never showed his face around the hospital during Dad's hospitalization. It features a photo collage of a luxurious villa, with a photo of the purchasing contract smack dab in the middle of collage. The caption writes, "I bought the top-tier riverside villa for seven million dollars! Thank you so much for your support, Dad!"