Warhammer End Times Novels & Stories

A doomsday blizzard hit just before Christmas. The zombie virus exploded. Our fortress was a top-tier ski resort. Now, it was about to fall. My husband, Ethan, was a former Navy SEAL. Our head of security. He swore his defense system was foolproof. The blizzard knocked out the power. But he’d sent all the backup generator fuel to the summit. Just to light up a Christmas tree for Chloe. He even had a few guards up there with them, throwing a party. In my last life, I fought him. I herded everyone into the last bunker. But Chloe whined. A crowded Christmas was boring, she said. She stormed out of the safe room and ran right into the jaws of the horde. Ethan carved a path through the horde to secure the walls. Then he sat in silence, cradling Chloe’s bones. He pretended he wanted to start over with me. He let me get pregnant with his child. The day I gave birth, he knocked me unconscious and dumped me into a nearby zombie nest. He always rescued me just before I died. He’d inject me with a serum that kept me from turning. Nineteen times, he threw me to the zombies. I died in agony as they tore the flesh from my bones. "If you hadn't sabotaged my defenses," he’d hissed, "if you hadn't crashed our party and led the horde right to us, Chloe would still be alive!" I opened my eyes. I was back. Christmas Eve.

A tale that vanished in the ravages of time. The saga of an immortal who was cursed to die from thousand invisible arrows. To lift the curse and thus attain her goddess-ship she reincarnated as a human but was caught in the cage of love and betrayal. This is her ballad that narrates her love and life; her curse and redemption

Instead of drifting into the afterlife, Tyre is caught up in a magical time loop just after his death, he subsists in a plane between void and life. He must team up with other Deviants like himself as they journey through time preventing the inevitable event called;The Doomsday.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

My husband, worried I might be lonely, gifted me a little female cat. I turned around and found 50 feral toms to breed her with, making her birth litter after litter until she was utterly spent. It was all because I had been reborn. In my past life, I adored this little cat so much I could hardly put her down. I wanted to eat and sleep right beside her. In just one short month, I aged rapidly into an 80-year-old woman, and the child in my womb withered and died along with me. No medicine could save me, and I simply died of old age. After death, my soul lingered. I saw that the sickly, frail mistress in our household had somehow become radiant and glowing, and pregnant on top of it all. I overheard her chatting in bed with my husband. "Thank goodness I bound myself to the Life-Drain System. I separated my soul, possessed the little cat, and sucked away Leah's life force. That's the only reason I survived." "She should count it as a blessing that you could drain her at all. It's better that she's dead. This way, the position of first wife is yours." I was reborn into a new life, and I smiled. Selling off a mistress would get me accused of treating human life carelessly. But she was merely a cat now, and surely it was perfectly reasonable to breed her for eight or ten litters and produce a hundred-some kittens.

When she married Harry Slate, she was 22 years old while he was 32. During their three years of marriage, he showered her with endless tenderness and would give her anything she wanted. He said he could pick the stars for her if she wanted, even the moon if she so wished. He spoiled her like she was a precious treasure. The only thing was that he had insatiable demands every night. He would chuckle and refuse to let her go, even when she cried and begged for mercy. She knew Harry had a lot of money and a lot of love—and all of it belonged to her. The day her father passed away, she called him 99 times, yet he declined every single one. The next second, she received a photo taken by her best friend. [Celine, is this your man? I saw him hugging a woman on the streets of Palto.] After tapping the photo and seeing the man and the woman, Celine Quest felt as though she had fallen into an icy abyss. The man was Harry, and the woman was her aunt.

My husband, Dominic Moore, insists on having his first love, Irene Cobb, at our wedding ceremony. Just when it's time for the bride to enter the hall, he suddenly asks for the ceremony to be paused for three minutes. Then, he gets off stage and pulls Irene, dressed in a white gown, out of the crowd. Right in front of all the guests, he takes her by the hand and walks her down the aisle, saying, "I promised Irene I'd walk her down the aisle someday." The tearful Irene throws herself into Dominic's arms before saying to my in-laws, "Mom, Dad. Although I won't get to be your daughter-in-law, I still want to address you as Mom and Dad just once." She turns back to Dominic and kisses him passionately. The guests exclaim in shock and whisper among themselves, eager to revel in my humiliation. However, I simply open the doors with a smile. I take off my veil and place it on Irene's head. "Why do you say you won't get to be their daughter-in-law? Since you like this cheating scumbag so much, I'll give him to you."

Aria Kingsley never asked to be Luna. A forced heat, an accidental pregnancy, and a Council mandate locked her into a marriage with Luca Stormbourne, Alpha of StormRidge Pack, the man every wolf expected would claim another she-wolf as his mate. Two years later, Aria decides she’s done with his indifference, Ivy Castemont’s constant taunts and bullying, and being an outsider of her own pack. She wants one thing: severing their bond. But the moment Aria tries to leave, everything she thought she understood starts to unravel. The dying Old Alpha calls her to his bedside and murmurs a truth that turns her world inside out. Every clue that Aria uncovers pushes Luca closer instead of farther. His wolf turns possessive, his scent shifts toward hers, and the man who once hurt her now swears he won’t let her go. But love isn’t the only danger rising. Someone is willing to destroy the Stormbourne line and Aria before the truth comes to light. When love and betrayal clash, will Aria choose to run from Luca, or will she ruin anyone who dares to come between them? And the most terrifying question of all, if fate didn’t go wrong… what if fate finally went right? A Luna born to be rejected… becomes the most powerful of all.

"Ms. Jones, the service to fake your death that you requested has been arranged. Here's the agreement. Please sign here." Isabella Jones glanced at the contract that the person placed before her. Client: Isabella Jones Cause of death: Falling from a mountain, eaten by wild animals. Unable to retrieve the remains of the body Time of death: One week from now One week from now would mark the fifth anniversary of her marriage to Samuel Grant. It was also the day she had planned to fake her death and leave him. Since that was the date it all began, it might as well be when it ended.

I had given up the Luna position six times for Silas Blackthorn. The first time, I shattered every moonstone lamp in the master bedroom and threw his clothes into the rain. The second time, I cried until my wolf went hoarse, asking him why I had to be the one who stepped aside. The third time, I begged him to leave at least one suitcase behind, because I was terrified he would never come back. By the fifth time, I had learned to fold his coats, pack his luggage, and stay silent so he would not get angry. Every time, he kissed my forehead and promised, “Seven days. Then everything goes back to normal.” And every time, I believed him. Until the sixth time. This time, when Silas handed me the document and asked me to step aside again, I signed without crying. He thought it was another temporary Luna authorization form. He did not know it was the mate bond release agreement. Seven days later, while he waited for me to return to the main house and reclaim my title, the bond between us broke. And by then, I had already left Blackthorn territory for good.