The Last Life Ring Novels & Stories

It took me eight years to help my cellist wife, Selena Heart, overcome her isolation and self-destructive tendencies, survive multiple suicide attempts and finally make it to the Aurelian Hall in Valdena—a stage reserved for the world's finest performers. During her darkest year, she could barely hold her bow. I was the one who kept finding her locked away in her room and staying by her side through every loss of control and breakdown. She wrote her first complete piece, titled My Dearest Love, for me and said she would play it for me for the rest of my life. Once Selena became famous, her schedule filled up with concerts around the world. She was so busy that she could spare only ten min

At three in the morning, my husband, Houston Rodgers, who was away on a business trip, posted on social media. "Three sleepless nights, and I finally managed to snag a sleeper ticket to Daim." My heart softened. I never imagined he’d go to such lengths just to help me get home to visit my sick grandmother. The next day, a colleague looked at me enviously. "I wish I could find a husband as devoted to his wife as yours is." I smiled happily and had just typed out "Thanks for working so hard, honey" when a new post from Heather Conrad, my husband’s female apprentice, popped up. It was a screenshot of a sleeper ticket. The passenger’s name was Heather Conrad. Her caption read: "Thanks for s

Debbie shrieked, squeezing his neck even tighter, "I tried to drown you before, and I can do it again, but this time I swear this will be your last!" Debbie put her hand harder against his neck, pressing it, sending more pain and struggles in him. As his grandmother's gaze focused on him, he forced his quivering weak hands to raise. The searing sensation in his throat is rising to his head, squeezing out every drop of air from his lungs; all he could do was breathe under strain, and he knew that every second of his life now matters. Zackary's eyes are closing slowly, yet he is determined to live no matter what.

“It is more than enough time, but do remember, I cannot force anyone to show up to their bunkers.” The president turned and walked out the door toward the elevator. As he waited for the elevator, he took out his phone and dialed a number. “Hello, this is Mr. Shirker, yes, the end is near. Begin operation Noah’s Ark. Project Humanity’s Last Resort will be ready to launch in two days.” He closed his phone and walked into the elevator.

This empire. The underworld. I ran my thumb over the Abraha insignia. A golden emblazoned crow in mid-flight and twisted the ring so it lay against my palm. I hated the sight of it. The weight. The feel of it was even worse. Suddenly, a thought crossed my head at the resemblance of the black seal and my ring. A symbol that I failed to recognize but hazily suspected. The eerie eyes of an owl. Of course, she chose that over anything else. Sabrina, you cunning piece of shit.

wall block him, he can see his dead front of his eyes now he has to stop them for 2 minutes more. he tries to take some time. if he wants to save his ass or he can just wait for loriana. he remembered that she was also behind her. he tries to stop them for fear of the ring Ariel:- stop right there do you know what godly power ring I carry. it can seal your magic forever and only I can bring your power back, you will live become useless with your power, don't try to touch me, you pervert, I know you guy will rape me, I won't let you touch me.

The Headmistress told me that they buried the candles afterward so that the darkness could rest and eventually join the circle of life within Mother Earth. "The darkness in you is the energy from tortured corpses who wish to be free above all else,” she said, "so, it is our duty to give them what they deserve. Peace." I figured that was the most thoughtful way to do it. Cremating the fragments would give them a chance to escape and latch onto someone else, so burying them was the next best thing. The last thing I wanted was for someone else to be afflicted. The ring helps, guiding me back to myself after every confrontation with a phantom I have. It serves as a lifejacket, a safety vest, and

With a heavy heart, she made the decision to relinquish her ring, a tangible symbol of her past life, to the operator in exchange for the precious minutes of communication that stood between her and salvation. As she handed over the ring, she attempted to mask her desperation with a flimsy excuse, fabricating a story about a lost wallet and the urgent need to contact her family. The operator regarded her with a suspicious gaze, his disbelief palpable in the air between them. Who, indeed, would surrender such a valuable possession for the fleeting luxury of a phone call?

" ᴵ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵇʳⁱᵈᵍᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ "