Novel & Cerita Post Apocalyptic Setting

Kai Parker has a past with his high school arch enemy, Hunter Steele, and that past made him hate the now billionaire businessman. He wants nothing to do with the man, but fate has other plans. When Kai's mother and Hunter's father announce themselves to be in love and are setting off to get married in 4 months, Kai has to do something he never thought he would do. He makes a pact with his soon-to-be step-brother to make their parents break off the alliance. In the process, he gets more than he bargained for. He isn't ready to feel the sparkle again. He isn't ready to let Hunter enter his life. Again. Kai Parker definitely isn't ready to fall in love with his enemy. Again. Follow Kai as he stumbles into a life filled with hatred, bitterness, love, betrayal, and a deadly stalker. Kai Parker isn't ready for any of these. What about the hot-headed and playboy billionaire?

Aasha. Was a young beautiful girl and always submissive. She was a classical dancer and had a dream of setting up a dance school and becoming a dance teacher. But her life was going to take a turn into tragedy because her father forced her into marriage. He doesn't respect her and hates her. When she thought what could be much worse her husband was shot right after he put a knot of marriage on her neck. The moment he became her husband she became his widow. Her husband was shot right on the altar while he was tying a knot to her. His blood spilled on her head as he fell down to her side. Horrified, she looked at the spilled blood and her husband. Panic grew among the public as they began to run away. When she looked forward unknowingly her eyes met with the murder. And he was looking at her as well. A smirk laid on his lips as he mouthed to her. "I'll get back to you".

Even though this is my eighth time proposing to Beverly Galvan, she still coldly turns me down again. She says that she isn't ready yet and that she needs more time. Since that's the case, I tell myself I will wait as long as it takes. That's when I see it—her and my brother's marriage certificate, posted for everyone to see on her social media. When I question her about it, she merely says in a calm voice, "Timothy's unwell. He can't get too upset, so you'd better not start anything!" They are wearing wedding rings in that photo, and there is a barely visible bump on her belly. In that moment, the storm within me dissipates. Hitting the like button on the post, I type out a comment. "I wish you both a lifetime of joy. May the two of you grow old together!" A year later, a desperate-looking Beverly shows up in front of me, begging that we get back together. Unfortunately for her, her best friend, who was clearly pregnant, steps in with a smile and pushes her aside. "Give it a rest, will you? My husband already has a wife. We can have kids of our own. There's no need for him to be someone's fallback guy."

On my 30th birthday, my husband, Miles Harrington, was out of town on a business trip. To make it up to me, he had a cake delivered. What arrived at my door was a Superman cake that looked like it belonged at a three-year-old's birthday party. I was about to call him when my phone rang. "Honey, you're not gonna believe this. That bakery messed up my order and sent you the wrong cake." I didn't think much of it. Instead, I posted the story on my social media account as a funny little birthday mishap. Comments started pouring in almost immediately. [Was it really the bakery's mistake, or does your husband have a kid somewhere?] I laughed it off. Miles and I had been together since college. We dated, got married, and built a life together. Other than not having children, we were the kind of couple people envied. But as the post gained traction and the comments kept coming, I decided maybe it was time to delete it. Before I could, I got a direct message from the bakery. [Hi there. I wanted to clarify, the delivery driver didn't mix up the orders. Mr. Harrington bought two cakes. He accidentally swapped the delivery addresses.]

Before my wedding to Sophie Bennett, the impoverished student I've been sponsoring for ten years posts a photo on social media. "Successfully moved into the new apartment. Soph prepared such a big, soft bed for me!" In the photo, Zachary Wells lies sprawled on the wedding bed I bought for Sophie and my new home, taking a smug selfie with his hand waving at the camera. He's even wearing my wedding ring on his ring finger. Zachary also comments on his own post, "Just thinking about how I'm the first man to lie on this bed fills me with overwhelming happiness!" I reply with a question mark under his comment. The next second, Sophie's call comes through. "I'm just letting Zach experience the warmth of home. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?" In the background, I hear Zachary softly trying to calm her down. "Soph, he's not worth getting angry over." Hearing that, Sophie laughs and banters with him, then abruptly hangs up on me. The two of us have been together for ten years, from ages 18 to 28, and we've finally made it to our wedding day. But now, I no longer intend to go through with it.

God forbid, a woman only wants stability, a peaceful life, a high paying job—not rich, but stable. She was given six months to live. Six months to work, to support her family, and six months to stand as his contractual wife. Despite her own battles, Lana's top priority is her mother who needs constant support the most, setting aside her own necessities just to make sure she has enough means to put food above the table. Enters Salvatore; a widowed man, the timid, stoic, authoritative and a ruthless King of the underground. He has a heart of stone, covered in dark flames surrounding his body. Lost his wife in a tug of war, Salvatore vowed he won't marry again, until a woman appeared who had the same face as his allegedly dead wife began to shake his world. Yet fate has other plans. She can't remember even a single memory.

I suspected my husband was a detached ascetic. Every night, he'd skip to the backyard, muttering prayers under the stars instead of sharing our bed. When I slipped into something slinky, he'd frown and clutch his prayer beads like a lifeline. Now I was done with the cold shoulder, slapping a divorce agreement in his hands. That was when his thoughts started leaking into my head. "She touched me. Her hands are like silk. I'm dying to kiss her. When is she gonna be okay with me being a snake? I just want to cuddle her." "A snake?" I thought. "Does that mean he's packing two things? I have to find out." I leered at his chiseled frame, practically drooling. Before divorcing, I needed to test his things and my limits. I tripped purposefully and fell onto his toned pecs, ready to test the waters. "Whoops!" I gasped, setting the stage.

Anastasia Forrester had suffered the worst heartbreak by the man who had been extracting revenge from her for something she had not even been guilty of. Five years later, Devin Richard Crighton was back in her life unwaveringly setting out to achieve his purpose. He was in for a surprise because Ana was no longer the love-struck woman of the past, she was a fully-fledge twentieth century woman, stronger and independent, ready to fight him with all her might. Could Ana resist falling for him all over again? Devin was a cynically ruthless man - life had taught him many lessons at the tender age of fourteen. For years, he had planned his revenge on the daughter of a man who had destroyed his family not caring that he was destroying himself in the process. He hadn’t expected someone like Ana, a woman so strong and innocent who would make him understand what was at stake. Will they finally be able to make it together? Or will the past always cast a shadow on their happiness when it’s time to heal….

I was given a second chance on the day my mate chose another she-wolf over me. In my last life, I fought to keep him. I begged, argued, and stood in his way, only to watch him blame me for everything he lost. On the day of our bonding ceremony, he made me pay for loving him. This time, I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. When he wanted to take her to the Frost Territory, I packed his bag myself. When she smiled behind his back and called me replaceable, I let her. If he loved her so much, I would step aside. But the day he finally realized I was no longer waiting at the altar, I had already walked into another ceremony, in another pack, beside a man who had never once made me feel second best. My old mate thought I was teaching him a lesson. He was wrong. I was setting myself free.

On the day the privileged heiress, Olivia Cruz, and I register our marriage, she leaves me and Mom stranded on a deserted road before running off to her childhood sweetheart, Brad McCoy. Rage triggers Mom's cardiac arrest, so I call Olivia in anxiety, begging her to come back and save Mom. But she just says a cold line before ending the call, "Not this again. Every time I have to step away, your mom suddenly has heart pain. Your family sure knows how to put on a show, huh?" With that, Mom misses her chance at rescue and dies. That night, a mutual friend posts online. "Growing up together is a whole different kind of bond!" The post shows Olivia perched on Brad's lap with his hand resting on her waist. It's the perfect picture of intimacy that leaves little to the imagination. I expressionlessly tap on the like button before typing my comment. "Is this what you meant by 'something important'?" The friend sneers. "Relax, it's just a game of Truth or Dare. I can't believe you're taking it so seriously." Olivia doesn't even bother to explain, but when I walk away without a word, she finally panics.