Titanic Novels & Stories

Isabella explains and I raise my eyebrows trying to get the sense of what happened. "Simon fell down from the balcony of the third floor of Tech building, he broke all his bones and went into a coma. Karma right." Isabella says tears falling from her eyes. My heart beat loudly in my chest, I was so filled with adrenalin but from the fear and devastation I could see etched into her beautiful features.

’ Titus said, as James Alfred rest his back on the chair, and closed his eye. Some years later, in the year 2000, some ocean searchers went in search of the gold box, which was thrown into the Meditarian sea, as it was written in story of, "The destruction of the Ghost pirates," after the death of James Alfred Simpson. The story of, "The Destruction of the Ghost pirates" was later re-written by Titus Wrights Simpson, years after the death of his grandfather.

Rhina asked worriedly, handing him a flask of water. “Ughh, I’m not sure,” he replied hoarsely. “I don’t feel...very well.” Ishida watched as the Medietan troopship listed uncontrollably to the side that the torpedo had struck. Everyone on the ship— both soldiers and officers alike— lined up on the deck, waiting for their turn to jump overboard. The ship was taking in too much water and began to sink. Its bow rose high into the air as its stern plummeted into the water.

The introduction went like this. Titan: My name's Titan. Fifteen. 80kg. 5 feet 4 inches. I know I'm fat, so don't dare talk behind my back about it or experience the most excruciating pain you've ever experienced in your entire life. This is not an empty threat, mind you. I'm effin serious. Next!

"Project Titan. The heavy infantry." The Titan raised the hammer. It slammed it into the ground. A shockwave of earth erupted toward our car. Kaelen swerved. We went into a ditch. The car rolled. We crashed. Silence. Then the sound of metal tearing. The roof of the car was ripped off. The Titan stood over us. It blocked out the sun. It reached down. It didn't reach for me. It didn't reach for Kaelen. It reached for the boy. "Asset located," a synthesized voice boomed.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Blackthorn. You won't regret this, I promise." Zavian faced forward again, slowing the yacht further before turning back to her. "All right, let's see what's going on in that mischievous mind of yours." Emmeline pulled him eagerly toward the bow of the yacht. When they reached the bulkhead at the front, she looked up at him with bright eyes. "Do you know the movie Titanic?" Zavian’s brows creased as he rubbed it with his free hand, clearly dreading her next words. "Tell me you aren't thinking about standing on the edge of the yacht while I hold you from behind."

“Do you remember what ship you were on? What the ship was called that sank?” Sank. He hadn’t considered that word, but it made sense. Why else would so many people be in the water all at once? And then he remembered—he was aboard a ship that wasn’t supposed to be capable of sinking. “Titanic.” He said the word as if it were a curse, and then looked up at her face. Her nod let him know that he was correct. “It hit an iceberg.” “Yes,” the woman replied. “And you decided not to get on a lifeboat because you wanted other people, women and children, to have a chance.”

Julian rasped, his gray eyes flashing with an unshakeable, savage focus as his hand tightened briefly around her hip, ensuring she was completely anchored against him before he vaulted toward the forward descent lift. ​BOOM—! ​The titan-class dreadnought cleared the final mountain ridge, its massive three-hundred-meter hull slamming down into the natural basin of Aegis Hub 02 with the force of a localized tectonic event. The heavy impact pulverized the Iron Vanguard’s forward infantry trenches into fine white powder, sending a massive shockwave of displaced ice and shattered iron across the battlefield. ​Before the defensive garrison could even re-align their heavy artillery, Vivian’s finger

Something that didn't belong in a "Real World." A **Titan** stepped out of the shadows. It was thirty feet tall, its body made of rusted iron and pulsing violet tubes. It had the face of a man, but the eyes were giant searchlights. On its chest, a large silver logo was etched into the metal: **AETHEL-GROUP: ASSET RECOVERY**. "Subject 01 and Donor 04," the Titan’s voice boomed, sounding like a thousand speakers blowing out at once. "You have exceeded your 'Independence' quota. Please remain still while your 'Conflict Data' is harvested."

In the center of the room, resting on a velvet stand, lay a necklace. My breath caught in my throat. I recognized it instantly from the society magazines Christabel was always flipping through. The Rockwell Ruby. Salvaged from the Titanic’s wreckage. A legendary piece, a relic of scandal and tragedy, sold for a fortune. Damien had been the anonymous buyer. The Rockwell Ruby had been a token of forbidden love. Mrs. Rockwell, a wealthy merchant’s wife, and her mysterious lover. When her husband discovered the affair, she’d boarded the Titanic to meet her lover before he could confront her. She never made it. The necklace had been