Post Apocalyptic Science Fiction Novels & Stories

“Strip naked and get in the bed." Liam said to the pretty lady. “But I am your best friend's girlfriend." Was her reply, where she stood. “So what are you doing in my hotel room?" Liam raised a brow. “I..I just can't help myself. I can't seem to get you off my head. I love my boyfriend, your best friend Felix but I want to see for myself what everyone is talking about. I want to experience what is making all the ladies seem to go crazy over you," she said shamelessly.... Four years in a row he has been voted as the most handsome man in the world! His father is the richest man in the world! Liam has his name in every girl's lips. They all sing of his praises. He performs like a god in bed and he has a massive third leg like that of a horse! Each night Liam always has a beautiful lady to warm his bed. He doesn't even care to know most of their names; all he is interested in is the treasure in-between their legs. Spoilt, arrogant, naughty and selfish, not even his best friend's girlfriend is spared from his sinful attraction. She too wants a taste of his legendary third leg! . What happens when Amelia, a pretty hotel cleaner, would catch his attention but instead of getting kissed he got slapped! Does she know the implications of what she has done? Can a lowly girl withstand the anger of an arrogant, naughty billionaire? Will their fiction spark an unexpected romance between these two? Find out in this thrilling adventure.

WARNING🔞EROTIC CONTENT AHEAD. “Arghhhhh….Yes….” Rosealba gasped, lips parting into soft moans as Drystan moved his fingers gently against her fold. “I own you, Sunshine. Your heart your soul and every inch of your body. And I… I will protect you with everything I own. Anything could go unpunished, but certainly not whatever harmed his obsession. He would burn to world to aches if anyone came close. He was everything he didn't look like. Alactor Merikh Drystan. And she? She was Rosealba Molvain. Typical opposite of him. She was the light that burned through his darkness, illuminating his venomous heart with her purification. With her, there Is a weird feeling to protect, to shelter, and to gratify and that was the total opposite of his existence. From the moment his eyes crossed her direction, he had undoubtedly yearned for her, desiring every bit of her. Time, b*dy heart, and soul. ******* When Rosealba got out of the toxic relationship with her cheating boyfriend, Lowel. She was blessed to meet and date Mr perfect. (Drystan) He was everything she only experienced in books and fiction, but one can not judge a book by its nice intro. With a stalking ex and other factors, Rosealba's life came crushing as lies and deceit unfolded, threatening to sabotage her new relationship. Torn between love, hate, and external obstacles, Rosealba is not just haunted by the thoughts of Drystan, he is lurking at every corner. The desperation and desire to have her in his life again were greater than his quest for power, and if burning the world was everything it took to have her back in his arms then he would only stop at lengths that led to her. This Is mafia erotic content and it is not for viewers younger than 21.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

[Is it wrong to fall in love with someone who already belongs to another?] One day, a post I stumbled upon caught my eye. The most liked comment was a brazen boast from a self-proclaimed mistress: [Dating isn't marriage. If you can steal the heart of someone taken, you deserve to keep it. If they don't love their partner enough to stay loyal, their partner is the real outsider in the relationship.] [I took my husband from another woman. He was just a broke college student back then, but I knew who he really was. He's the only son of the country's wealthiest man!] [His ex only knew how to study and work. She had no idea how to keep a man. How unfortunate! I heard she never even got her diploma. Her life must be miserable now.] I stared at the comment for a long time because I recognized the woman who wrote it. Her name was Camila. She was talking about me. Miserable? I was now a famous attorney, renowned for never having lost a case, and I had also adopted a sweet daughter. My life was anything but 'miserable'. I blocked the author of the comment and assumed our paths would never cross again. However, fate had other ideas. While taking my daughter for her passport application, I ran into some people from my past in the most dramatic way possible. Camila used her position to make things difficult for me. My ex-boyfriend Alexander stood by her side and even threatened me, phone in hand. "Apologize to my wife, or I'll have my father hire that so-called 'Victory Queen'. We'll sue you until you lose everything!" I smiled and said, "Go ahead and call that lawyer." The next second, my phone rang.

My CEO wife has a habit of rewarding top-performing employees with a private dinner. After seven years of being secretly married to her, I finally pushed myself to the limit—working around the clock for an entire month, nearly coughing up blood—just to land the number-one spot and finally earn that public dinner date with my own wife. But Alexia gave the spot to an intern instead. "Caleb just joined the team. He needs some motivation and encouragement. As my husband, you need to be understanding. Next time, if you close over ten million in sales, I'll definitely give you the spot—and I'll even throw in a diamond wedding ring worth a million." For the sake of the company and our marriage, I let it slide. Then I closed a ten-million-dollar deal and showed up at the restaurant we'd agreed on. She never came. No calls, no texts. I was about to head back to the office to find her when I saw Caleb's post on social media: a candlelit dinner with my wife, and on his ring finger—the very ring she'd promised me. His caption read: [Family keeps asking when I'm getting married? Don't worry—my girlfriend, the CEO, showed up with a ring to save the day.] Coworkers flooded the comments with excitement. I calmly left a comment of my own. My wife, who had been MIA for six hours, immediately called me in a panic. "Don't get the wrong idea! It was just a dare—he lost a game, that's all. You're still my husband. I just loaned him the ring for a minute. Once the game's over, I'll get it right back to you." But I don't want the ring or her anymore. "Don't bother. Let's get a divorce."

The darkness in his eyes, the dangerous smell of in his breath, and his deathly grip keeping me bound to him made my heart pound in my chest and my body quiver beneath him. Shamefully, it wasn't anything that I wasn't used to, because…the things I let him do to me? When he was frustrated, annoyed, and angry at the world, I was here to be his pound of flesh. In return, he masked the void of my loneliness because for months, that was the transaction of our relationship. He'd pin me to the wall, bend me over the counter, pull my hair, slap me, choke me, and I enjoyed every second of it because in that moment, it finally felt good to be powerless. Irony is a funny thing. I enjoyed being in pain because it made me forget how much I was hurting. *** "I warned you, doll." His voice strikes a string of chills down the base of my spine, a reminder that all of the time in the world could pass, and he's still not letting go. This is where the good girl in me dies. "You're mine now," he whispers. *** My name is Mercy—Mercy Carter. I went to college. Got myself a useless Bachelor of Science in Mathematics degree. His name is Marcel—Marcello Saldívar. However, at the time, I didn't know that he, the heir to the Saldívar Mafia empire, was the man that I had blindly offered myself to. As smart as I am, I was stupid all the times when it actually mattered. After all, he did warn me he was dangerous. I just didn't think he could be much worse than my thug brother. I was vulnerable—naive. I belong to him. My name is Mercy, and I am the Mafia's Mercy.

Warning:This book contain some sensitive content Rated +18, and everything in this book is a work of fiction and not related to any real life person or event. Imagine you broke up with your boyfriend and the same day you saw him in the arms of another woman. Because of a fake result Nazy lost her relationship, her life and every reason to live, having her last mental breakdown, she went back to street where she thought she belonged, well you could say she does cause she's the queen of SHANTY, but this time she went back for only one reason to destroy men for ruining her life, her plan was going well not until that night when she accidentally met Vincentte Vladimir, a mysterious man who’s different from all the men she has met, he was not after her body or what he’ll gain from her, neither did he judge her for her lifestyle rather he treated her like a queen and was ready to burn down the world for her. Nazy’s revenge plan has been altered, she has started developing feelings which were never supposed to happen, how does she tell him that it can never work out between them not because of her past, but because she did not want to ruin him, she did not want to hurt him. She's like fire and he was neither ice or fire, you can say he's something more than fire and ice. Just like Heaven cannot come down to Earth, their worlds are totally apart, in a world were criticism excel especially when it comes to women, will love be enough for the two hearts

His lap is my throne and my body is his salvation. Orphaned and enslaved, I was sold to Prince Erwin's palace to serve as his sex slave. They said the prince drinks blood daily and has a taste for killing people. That only blood, violence, and screams can arouse his sexual desire. His favourite colour was reddish blood, and my hair was red. Perhaps that's why he fell in love with me, made love with me almost every night, but sometimes his demonic side took over and he raped me me brutally. But deep in my heart, I know he loved me. He adorned me with the jewels, burned his own king-father alive, for me. He still chose me even though he was married to a beautiful noblewoman. And I loved him as well. He is the king of my body, my heart, and my soul. The prophecy says that I will die by his hand, and before that happens, I must free him from the curse he was born with. He is the beast, and I am the beauty. Can the beauty heal the beast? **** This story contains some adult concepts such as: - Slavery, Harem, and reverse harem (since the setting is in the 16th. I opposed slavery) - Graphic sexual and violent scenes (stay away if you are under 18) - Bloody vengeance (may be distressing to some readers. If you are easily triggered, it may be best to avoid this book) - Gods, Goddesses vs Demons (Based on Greek mythology, not suitable if you are too religious) This story is a work of fiction, intended to satisfy readers' wildest smut and romantic fantasies. Please do not read this book if you dislike the above topics. You have been warned.

Hi there. By now, you know about the boys. Those guys who are too handsome to miss … too cocky to ignore … and far too dangerous to get involved with. And you probably figured out … these stories are not officially about them. Not completely. It’s about us. Girls like me. The ones who don’t mean to get pulled in. The ones who know better … but still fall in love. The ones who should have walked away … but didn’t. I wish I could say I was different. That I saw it coming. That I made the smart choice. I didn’t. So here I am. Aria Thompson. The next girl. Next one to fall for a San Francisco Boy. Enrique Lucio Blackburn. Famous actor. International model. Renowned playboy. Beautiful, broken … and completely unreachable. Big mistake. People think they know him. They see the smirk. The fame. The endless string of women. They don’t see the truth. He turned himself into a robot. Untouchable. Emotionless. Enrique Blackburn is allergic to love. And me? I walked straight into his world with a contract in my hand and desperation in my chest. My sister needed treatment. He needed to fix his reputation. So we made a deal. Fake girlfriend. Public appearances. Perfect photos. No sex. No love. No relationship. Simple, right? Yeah … not even close. Because the line between fake and real can get blurred very quickly. He started to matter. And despite the consequences, I let him steal my heart. I have everything to win, but much more to lose. So the real question isn’t whether I can survive this deal … but can I make the man who feels nothing … feel everything? Can I turn fiction into something real? And most importantly … can I make him say the words?

My billionaire parents, Gerald Voight and Diane Westwood, were afraid my sister, Claire Voight, and I would grow spoiled if we stayed in luxury, so they pulled us out of the city's best prep school and sent us to study in a remote mountain town. On the way there, locals knocked us unconscious and sold us into a brutal trafficking ring. I found a way to contact my parents and begged them to save us, but they said I was lying. "Being sent to the mountains means you were trafficked? You really were raised too soft. You can't handle even a little hardship." "Kids there get into college by fighting their way out. Learn to do the same. Stop depending on us for everything." They blocked my sister's number and mine before I could explain. To survive, my sister and I escaped after three days without food, but when we tried to buy tickets out of the county, the ticket clerk refused us. "Sorry, miss. We've received instructions from the Voight family. You're not allowed to leave the county by any method, unless it's for college." We couldn't get away. The traffickers dragged us back. Later, my sister died from the tortures in a filthy basement. I was luckier. At my last breath, undercover anti-trafficking officers found me. I held my sister's ashes and fled to the farthest city from home. Then our cousin, Jenna Reed, posted a photo from her overseas school. [Uncle Gerald and Aunt Diane are just like my real parents. They give me the best love.] She tagged me on purpose, the way she always did, hoping I'd be provoked into questioning her. This time, I only liked the post and replied: [If you're willing, they can be your real parents. You can be their only daughter.]