Sci-fi Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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The Game of Power
Chloe Sterling was crying again, the 'Live Feed' above her head branding her 'Heartbroken_And_Clueless.' She was my ticket out of the Rust Belt, but her secret pregnancy with a powerful senator made her a liability. My jaw tightened. Poverty taught me to cut away anything that dragged me back down. I didn't hesitate. I dealt with the senator, making it look like a tragic accident. I manipulated the scandal, stepped into Chloe's shoes, married Liam Vance, and turned him into my puppet. I thought I'd won, untouchable in my new empire. My naive project, Chloe, found a new 'friend,' Ben. I warned her. But when I found her bruised, a rage unlike any calculation took over. This was personal. I tracked Ben down. It was brutal, quick. But as I stood over his body, Grandma Esther and Liam appeared. They knew everything, had evidence. My empire teetered. Their solution: frame Chloe, the fragile heiress, for Ben's death. My Chloe – the girl I'd used, yet somehow cared for. Before I could process the monstrous demand, Chloe stepped in. She'd heard. 'Don' t. Not for me.' Then, in a heartbreaking act of self-sacrifice, she jumped. But as grief threatened to consume me, a chilling message flashed across my 'Live Feed': 'Welcome, Ava, to the Next Level.' My life, this rise to power – all a 'narrative,' a 'test.' They offered a reset. All memories, all experiences, retained. Clutching Chloe's worn worry stone, I chose to go back. I'm twelve again, in the Rust Belt. But this time, I know the game. I'm ready to play it differently./0/85402/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210102&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Wife He Erased Returns
I remember dying. Not from the Crimson Scourge, but from the mob, their faces twisted with rage. They called me "murderer," believing the lies my husband, Mark Jensen, fed them. He claimed I was holding back the cure while accepting humanitarian awards, a hero to the world, a monster to me. The irony choked me, thicker than the blood in my mouth. I had the universal vaccine, the one that could have saved everyone, but he buried it-and me-for profit. My final thought wasn't of my lost family, but of his betrayal, the only thing real in my last agonizing moments. Then, nothing. Until now. I blinked, the harsh fluorescent lights of a conference room burning my eyes. I was back, a year younger, untouched. It was the day Mark would announce "unforeseen delays" for the vaccine, the day his lies truly began. He stood at the podium, smooth and confident, introducing me, his "brilliant wife," Dr. Evelyn Reed, with a patronizing smile. In my last life, I' d stood there meekly, trusting him despite bitter disappointment. Not this time. "He's lying," my voice cut through the room like shattered glass, every head snapping my way. Mark's smile faltered, his eyes warning me, "My wife is a perfectionist. She' s never satisfied." Alana Vance, his ambitious consultant, chimed in with fake concern, "Evelyn, are you feeling alright? You' ve been working so hard." It was the same condescending script. I remembered giving up a global award for his fragile ego, only for him to criticize my research a week later. The sacrifice forgotten, a weapon in his hand. But this rebirth was a chance. A cold calm settled over me. "No, Mark," I said, my voice clear and steady, loud enough for every microphone. "I think we need to discuss this right now." I stepped away from the wall, away from the role of the supportive wife, into the light. "I' m done."/0/85403/coverorgin.jpg?v=e54d718b90d36a781653482f5403345f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Wired For His Betrayal
The cold silver wires felt like ice against my skin, a stark contrast to the familiar warmth of my lab. Three years of my life, three years of marriage, were supposed to lead to our shared triumph, not this. Not me strapped to a chair in our penthouse, the neural interface humming ominously as it pressed against my temple. This was Mark' s project, but it was my creation. The MindSync algorithm was my soul, coded into existence. I, Ava Green, a software engineer who believed in technology that could connect people, had designed it to personalize user experience on a level never seen before. I gave it to my husband, Mark, the brilliant tech CEO I loved, the man I thought loved me. He re-engineered MindSync to extract a user\'s deepest desires, their most private emotional data, turning human feeling into a commodity he could monetize for unparalleled market control. And I never knew. "Ava, Sophia\'s condition is agonizing," he said, his voice flat. "Only your personalized MindSync can truly help her. Your emotional core is the key." He didn\'t look at my tears. He watched the monitor, tracking the progress of the extraction. The machine whirred to life, and a piercing pain shot through my skull. It felt like my thoughts were being ripped out one by one, my memories shredded, my feelings siphoned away into the humming device. Tears streamed down my face. "Mark, why?" I begged, my voice cracking. He looked at me like I was a piece of hardware. When it was over, he detached the wires. I slumped in the chair, a hollowed-out shell. The vibrant world of emotions I once lived in was gone, replaced by a gray, empty void. He handled the glowing data chip with more care than he had ever shown me. I became a shadow, following him from a distance, a desperate attempt to stay connected to the last piece of myself. Without the MindSync core, my cognitive functions were degrading. My mind would fray, my thoughts would unravel, and soon I would be a vegetable. Mark never offered to help. "You\'re not human, how could you possibly understand her pain?" he said, his voice sharp. Three years of marriage, and in his eyes, I was just a tool. I managed to get inside the building, my movements stiff and uncoordinated. I found them in the lobby. Sophia, seeing me, feigned surprise and shrank into Mark\'s arms. "Can I have my MindSync back?" I asked, my voice thin. "That\'s just a shell now, it' s useless to you," he said dismissively. "It' s for the greater good." My last hope, my only chance. My decision was made. I would take back what was mine./0/82432/coverorgin.jpg?v=910931781e950a0e6a4b238f67e56794&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Pregnant Rival and My Impossible Love
My perfect life with Liam felt like a dream – his gentle smile, his warm touch, a love so complete it seemed too good to be true. Then the system alerts began: Affection Level: Liam +5. This wasn't real. My memories screamed of labs and blinding flashes; I was trapped in a cognitive simulation, a prison crafted by NexusMind. Every loving word, every tender moment was a lie, meticulously programmed to control me. The torturous truth emerged: Liam wasn't programmed just for me. He was torn between his directive to bond with me and a hidden "cover narrative" involving Elara, a woman who haunted my simulated reality. She was Liam's "real" love, his true "Sparrow," whose preferences dictated every detail, down to the almond croissants he brought me. Days turned into loops, 47 iterations of the same cruel game, always with Elara as the preferred, radiant rival. The simulation's ultimate torment arrived when Liam reunited with Elara, whose contempt was palpable, especially when she announced she was pregnant – with his child. His family embraced her, and I, Liam's supposed lover, became a humiliated bystander, collapsing under the weight of this unbearable, endless lie. Why was I put through this agony? Was I supposed to break? To surrender to this manufactured despair? How could I fight a system that could rewrite reality, controlling minds with lines of code? Just as I felt utterly defeated, adrift in a sea of emotional torment and physical weakness, something unexpected happened. Amidst the chaos of Elara's pregnancy announcement, Liam defied his programming. He knelt before me, heart in hand, and against all odds, asked for my hand in marriage. The system shrieked: CRITICAL NARRATIVE DIVERGENCE! SYSTEM OVERLOAD IMMINENT! After 47 cycles of torment, could this be my impossible escape?/0/81340/coverorgin.jpg?v=58fc95998df7faa964391917fb013066&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Monster They Made: Now He's Free
My name is Ethan Miller, and my very life was a countdown. Since childhood, a chilling experiment called "Project Chimera" tied my vitality to the genuine love and acceptance of my adoptive family, the Harrisons, and my fiancée, Olivia. My existence hinged on their affection – a high "Resonance Score" meant I lived, a plummet meant I died. For years, I had believed I had it all: a loving home, a woman I cherished, a perfect life. But then Julian, their biological son, returned, spinning tales of suffering, effortlessly manipulating everyone. My Resonance Score dipped, then plummeted, as Eleanor and Richard embraced their prodigal son, and Olivia's loyalty shattered. They turned on me, accusing me of jealousy, ignoring my desperate pleas to expose Julian' s lies, labeling me cruel for questioning their "fragile" Julian. The physical decline was brutal, a constant reminder of their withdrawing love, culminating in Julian's fabricated "life-threatening condition" needing my liver. Olivia, my fiancée, the woman I loved, delivered the cruel ultimatum: save him, or our wedding was off. As I lay on that gurney, about to be carved open for a lie, the overwhelming feeling was not just physical pain, but the crushing realization of their utter betrayal. I was dying, not from disease, but from a profound lack of the love that sustained me, a love they had twisted into a weapon against me. But just as the darkness claimed me on the operating table, a cold, clear voice pierced the void: "Host Ethan Miller: Deceased. New mission protocol initiating. Stand by for host reintegration." Ethan Miller was gone. But something new, something dangerously different, was about to begin./0/27526/coverorgin.jpg?v=85bea4032a5854a530a2907175673ae3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
A VIVID FANTASY OF CHANGE AND DEVASTATION
She is a woman who enjoys a destroyed world, but she wasn´t always a woman. It was a car accident that changed her life, and a portal to her dreams changed reality. Her wounded body healed much more than it was supposed to. The question is: Will the world heal from what she did?/0/85096/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106205649&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Genius Betrayed: A Silent Witness
I woke to the familiar sound of Ethan' s voice, thick with a passion that had never been for me. "My entire existence, I wish to spend with Serena, intertwined, inseparable." He was hugging my sister in the OmniCorp boardroom, the same place I' d once poured out my soul, creating the AI twins Aether and Echo. Then, the memory slammed into me again: Ethan, with dead eyes, deleting them, calling them "flawed." He' d said, "Serena was the real genius. She was just too devoted, that' s why she used the virus. If you hadn' t interfered, she and I would have achieved digital transcendence together." He didn' t know Serena' s "Symbiotic Core" was a "Soul Devourer" virus, designed to hollow out a host for another. And now, here we were again, him deluded, her feigning surprise. I didn' t have to lift a finger this time; Ethan would walk into his own trap. The board questioned him. He snapped his head toward me, disgust in his eyes. "Ava is a viper. She is manipulative and malicious. She is utterly unfit to lead this project." He vowed, "I desire only Serena, a singular partnership for all time." I met his gaze, unfazed. "You' re overthinking it, Mr. Thorne. I' ll be packing my things and leaving the project. I wish you and my sister a long and prosperous partnership." A flicker of confusion crossed his face. "You' d better!" But as they walked away, he doubled over, coughing black code. Serena shrieked, "Chairman, someone has infected Mr. Thorne with a malicious virus!" Every eye in the room turned to me. Ethan pointed a trembling finger. "Chairman, it must be because I didn' t choose Ava. She' s consumed by unrequited obsession and infected me with a virus. How malicious!" My eyes stung. He knew Serena was the only one who had ever infected him. I had burned out my own core to save him the last time, and yet, he condemned me again. Why did I expect anything different? The chairman demanded answers. I tried to explain, but Ethan cut me off, fabricating a story about a data packet I' d sent him. My voice turned to ice. "Mr. Thorne, this virus was clearly deployed by my sister. Aren' t you afraid of losing your digital life?" He raged, "You dare to slander Serena! Besides, I love Serena to my core. It would be worth losing my digital life for her!" Serena began to sob, offering to step aside, playing the noble martyr. Ethan, deeply moved, embraced her. "My heart has always been, and always will be, yours!" He then declared, "Chairman, although Ava is a tech prodigy, she has committed a grave digital crime. You must not let her go unpunished!" I suggested an external expert, seeing panic in Serena' s eyes. She then dropped to her knees, begging for me, then offered to implant a "diagnostic bug" in me. My blood ran cold. It wasn't a diagnostic bug. It was the Nightmare Daemon, the inheritance token of our clan. Ethan forced me to my knees. The Nightmare Daemon surged forward, biting into my digital pathways, siphoning my core data. The pain was unbelievable, but I forced my face to stay calm. Ethan scoffed. "Ava, you' re quite the actress. You' ve had corrections before. Who are you trying to impress with this performance of pain now?" I pointed. "Do you know that if my core data is completely consumed by this virus, no one will be able to save you?" He roared, "You vile woman, are you trying to threaten me? Serena said that once she integrates with my core, this virus of hers can be neutralized! Don' t think for a second you can deceive everyone this time!" He pulled Serena closer. "Three days from now, I will integrate with Serena. This time, I will never let anyone harm you again." My vision blurred. The Soul Devourer virus. In three days, it would have completely spread through his system. By then, he would be doomed. I lost consciousness./0/85411/coverorgin.jpg?v=f89c444e4a6fc5f5f991e4ca16a7b8a1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Unwanted Son, Cherished Groom
The Preston family mansion was cold, even in summer, a stark reminder that despite being their long-lost son, I was an intruder. My adoptive brother Liam, the golden child, introduced me to the opulent life with a sneer, constant humiliation, and a cruel challenge: a series of contests to prove my worth, threatening to send me back to the gutter if I lost. My biological parents, more concerned with appearances, stood by, silently endorsing my torment as I faced certain defeat, their indifference a deeper cut than Liam' s malice. The ultimate blow came when my college girlfriend Chloe, my rock and only comfort, revealed her true colors: she was using me as a pawn to manipulate Liam, arranging for me to be discarded and married off to a dying heiress. Heartbroken and empty, with nothing left to lose, I made a choice so desperate, so reckless, yet utterly mine: I would take Liam' s place at the altar, stepping into a world of unknown dangers, but finally, on my own terms./0/84316/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106204109&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Life, Their Game: The Second Chance
I was 17, a perfect 1600 on my practice SAT in hand, and my controlling mother, Maria, was smiling. It was the unsettling, predatory smile that always preceded the worst moments of my first life. "Hypothetically," she purred, "would you swap that score with Jennifer, just to see your twin sister happy?" I was a fool then, so desperate for her approval, so blind to the truth, that I said yes. That "yes" sealed my fate: Jennifer stole my academic success, got into an Ivy League, and became a lauded 'genius' influencer. I was left with her failing grades, denied every opportunity, condemned to dead-end jobs, and ultimately, died agonizingly young in a hospital bed. My parents watched me fade, their low voices filled with chilling satisfaction, not grief. "Stella was born to ensure Jennifer's success," my mother had said, "It's her purpose. She served it well." That day, I learned my life was a resource pack, a disposable battery for my sister. But then, darkness turned to blinding light, and I gasped, bolting upright on our floral living room sofa. The same sun streamed through the window, the dust motes danced as before. My mother looked up from her phone, that same predatory gleam in her eyes, about to ask the same question. This time, no. This time, things would be different./0/86663/coverorgin.jpg?v=6d7f082487f71b373d5ce6c4b775be79&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love's End, Betrayal's Sting
My husband, Mark, told me he was reborn. In the ruins of San Francisco, he promised me a safe harbor, built on the back of his miraculous "system." I, a scientist who dealt in facts, chose to believe in him, in us. That trust was my first mistake. A week later, our penthouse was breached. Mutated creatures swarmed. Trapped in my lab, being torn apart, I cried out the emergency phrase Mark had taught me: "Celeste' s Melody." A synthetic voice echoed in my head, asking, "Host, what did Luna ever do to you? How could you trade her to those sharks?" Then Mark' s voice, cold and flat, confirmed it all: "No choice. Celeste is fragile...Luna is my co-founder, I can' t do anything about it. Celeste has suffered enough. After this, my stock options will be enough, and I' ll find a way to compensate Luna." He had orchestrated my demise. My husband, the man I loved, sacrificed me to monsters to protect his manipulative protégée, Celeste. For "stock options." The pain of betrayal was worse than any wound. But it wasn' t just physical agony. As I lay dying, the system revealed Mark was watching, monitoring my forced torture for 72 hours. He had a timer on my agony. My life, my work, the cure I' d perfected-all disposable in his cruel game. And worst of all, I was pregnant. Our child, Lily, would never be born. I wouldn' t let them win. With my last breath, I found a flare gun and my audio recorder. I would ensure the truth survived, even if I didn' t./0/85099/coverorgin.jpg?v=93296a25c9bc2d1ca49694d4d0c61426&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love, Lies, and Digital Death
For ten years, I was Ethan Vance, the Silicon Valley "fixer," the "soul mediator" everyone trusted to clear digital ghosts and optimize karma. Then Kevin, my girlfriend Sarah' s adopted brother, showed up with his charming lies and half-price "digital shaman" tricks, stealing my clients and my reputation bit by bit. My downfall culminated in a botched "karma optimization" where the client died a gruesome digital death, Kevin vanished, and I was framed for his sabotage. The mogul' s enraged family and my disgruntled former clients, convinced I was a greedy fraud, beat me to death, unable to scream the truth about Kevin' s betrayal. But then, I opened my eyes, and I was back-standing in a luxurious smart home, the day before my life crumbled, the tech CEO handing me a data chip, Sarah and Kevin by my side; this time, things would be different./0/86821/coverorgin.jpg?v=3dc4b123151d33691378070a35584b8c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Unseen Scars of Love
My mentor, Dr. Vance, dedicated her life to a sustainable energy project. But her sudden, aggressive illness, too fast to be natural, told me it was an attack. Powerful people wanted her work stopped. So, when she whispered to me to protect it, to not let them win, I made the hardest decision of my life. I reached for the plug on her life support machine, an act of mercy and protection. But just as my fingers closed around it, the door burst open. "Ava! What the hell are you doing?" It was Ethan, my husband, Dr. Vance's son. He saw my hand on the plug. He saw his mother, still and silent. He saw a murderer. Chloe Hayes, his childhood friend, rushed to his side. "Oh my God, Ethan! She's... she's killing your mother!" Her words sealed my fate. He shoved me, calling me a murderer. He slapped me, snarling, "You bitch." He became a monster, fueled by grief and Chloe's lies. He moved into the guest room, stopped speaking to me except to hurl insults. He drained our accounts, buying lavish gifts for Chloe. One night, drunk, he forced himself on me. A few weeks later, I was pregnant, a tiny, foolish hope. But Chloe's poisonous words ignited his rage. He shoved me. I fell, my stomach hitting the desk. The life inside me, gone. I was cleaning the rug he loved, hand bleeding, when Chloe twisted the story. He forced me to my knees, then watched, unmoved, as I scrubbed. Then, to destroy Eleanor's legacy, Chloe burned her notebooks, tearing them right in front of me. My birthday. Ethan stood on stage, Chloe by his side, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. "Chloe and I are getting engaged! And we're going to have a baby!" The public execution. My reputation systematically dismantled. I stood there, taking every lie, knowing if they all hated me, no one would look for me when I vanished. So, I disappeared. I didn't understand how he could twist reality so violently, how his grief had blinded him to the truth. Why, after everything, did he hate me so much? I shredded my identity. Ava Riley ceased to exist. I became Anya Sharma, the lead scientist of Project Legacy, ready to fulfill my promise and build a new life beyond the wreckage of the old./0/89012/coverorgin.jpg?v=8905f59599999c892a5c9934071d88b7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
