Post Apocalyptic Romance Novels Novels & Stories

But I knew everything that happened was too real to be a dream. The pain, the bites, the betrayal… My best friend and girlfriend leaving me to die. Just then, a birthday tune filled the air and I glanced at my phone to see that it was my birthday. My calendar remembered my birthday while I didn't. I suddenly remembered what happened on my birthday before the apocalypse. The biggest nuclear energy plant had exploded and clouded the city for weeks. That very day, the AI bots started to malfunction and all of them began to drop dead. That was probably the trigger before the apocalypse.

After the nightmare that was meeting Daniel's family, we went back to my place to watch Netflix and chill. And by that I mean we talked, put the baby down for the night, and had sex. Lots of sex. The kind of toe curling, mind-blowing sex romance novels are made of. And Daniel apologized. A lot.

Too late, little missy. Ray merely nodded slightly in acknowledgment. "Thank you for taking care of Lucy these past few days." Lucy's face flushed crimson again. Ray's words were a subtle but unmistakable declaration of claim. Before the apocalypse, even if she had been deeply interested in a man like Ray, a financially secure and capable man, she would have maintained her pride. She wouldn't have fallen so openly into his arms, not with other women in the picture. Sharing a man was unthinkable. But today's events had shown her that in this post-apocalyptic world, without a strong man's protection, she was fragile—vulnerable to being used and manipulated. Jealousy and possessiveness were lux

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I blurted curtly, peering intently into his eyes as he stared back at me. Slowly, he nodded and exhaled heavily. "I really wish it was a vampire girl that you saved from being raped. You have come across many in dangerous situations of both rape and assault, and you ignore them and walk away." He sighed, and every single word from his mouth was just pouring down like heavy rainfall inside my head. I closed my eyes tight, trying to shut away his voice, but I couldn't. Instead, they were echoing, and I was feeling every damn truth in them. Was it too obvious that I was feeling something special and different for that wolf girl?

“That’s right. I have never loved you. I saved you, coaxed you, and called you my wife… all because you’re strong and could keep me alive. In this cannibalistic apocalypse, emotions are the most useless thing. Only self-interest keeps us alive. Now that you remember everything, do whatever you want with me. Kill me if you like.” Even as I said that, my nails dug deep into my palms. I couldn’t accept it. Was this really the ending someone like me deserved? Weren’t the truly vile ones Callie and Dan? All I ever wanted… was to survive. Ruth stared at me intently. Just when I thought she was about to crush me like she had crushed countless zombies, she suddenly stepped forward. Then, she grabbed

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I did not have the energy to take out the trash and rid myself of that torture. I stared at the book that rested just beyond my reach on the bedside table. It was a sequel to the romance novel that I had been reading at Andrew’s second home when Chevalier ambushed Jeffrey and me. In this one, Sapphire and Raphael were trying to escape from Beelzebub’s boss, Lucifer himself.

Scarlett The itch inside of me wasn't going away, in fact it increased, blinding me from noticing the onlookers. With my arms on around Jaxon's neck and his under my ass, we stumbled into the cabin, the moon and the bond pulling us together in every sense. He lowered me swiftly on the bed that was specifically prepared for our mating. He pulled me to the edge of the raised bed in a blur and stood on the floor, his riveting features illuminated by the moon. A cold breeze passed through the open window but it did nothing to put out the heat that my body was submerged in. In fact, it only carried with it the arousals of the rest of the people outside.

Her mouth found the scar she’d left beneath his collarbone and she kissed it, over and over, a litany and a claiming. He let her run the rhythm, let her squeeze his hands between hers and rest her full weight on his chest, like a dare to stop breathing. She went first, a tremor through every muscle; he followed, the rush so clean and right that for a second he thought they must be making something new, a future that wasn’t just survival. Afterwards, she curled over, breath hitching, and pressed her forehead to his. “If we make it through the winter,” she said, “I want to see what a wedding looks like, post-apocalypse.”