Sci-fi Books for Women
Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
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Be The Witness
Quianna, a girl who is constantly receiving messages about forewarned crimes or killings in places she goes. She did not believe it the first until she witnessed a murder happened in front of her and gone as nothing happened. One day a killer appeared and murdered her whole family as the messages stated then a mysterious man appeared in front of her and vanished together with the corpse. As she starts investigating about her parents' death, those messages were starting to be her warnings, coming from the parallel world. Who is sending these messages to her? Will she solve the case and catch the culprit when parallel universe is hindering her greatly? Read and join Quianna as she walks into her own world adventure, friends, family and most importantly, her lover./1/115663/coverorgin.jpg?v=901fa8c8cd6c8741ab69c84ec51c3531&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Claimed By The Savage Alien Alpha
Cora crash-landed her escape pod on a brutal alien planet, only to be immediately hunted by a massive six-eyed beast. A colossal black wolf dropped from the canopy and crushed the beast's neck to save her. But before she could even breathe, the wolf transformed into a towering, naked primitive man with glowing gold eyes. He hauled her back to his savage tribe, where she was instantly treated like garbage. The women sneered at her fragile human body, and the men eyed her like fresh meat. The tribe leader's jealous daughter even handed her a waterskin laced with a terrifying alien breeding drug, hoping to turn Cora into a mindless spectacle of lust in front of the entire settlement. "Drink. You look like you're dying," the daughter sneered, waiting for Cora to lose her mind. Cora was terrified and completely out of her depth. She didn't understand why this lethal Alpha warrior looked at her with such dark, consuming possessiveness, or why he was willing to slaughter his own people just to protect her. How was a stranded human supposed to survive in a terrifying world where every plant, beast, and local wanted her dead? "BEEP! Critical Warning! Liquid contains high concentrations of alien aphrodisiac herbs," her implanted AI assistant suddenly echoed in her skull. Looking at the hostile tribe and the fiercely protective Alpha shielding her, Cora silently activated her tech interface. She wasn't just going to be a helpless pet in this savage world./0/73113/coverorgin.jpg?v=c53f429d7d7ca2e1e31101e3d87ba059&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Falling Shadows
In the bright world of art and beauty, Jasmine Carter's life appears like a dream. As a respected artist married to the charismatic billionaire Ethan Sterling, she appears to have it all--until a shocking revelation shatters her extremely clean mask. When Jasmine finds Ethan's ties to a violent criminal group, her world spirals into chaos. Pregnant and frightened, Jasmine must make the heart-wrenching decision to flee, saving her unborn child from the shadows of her husband's dishonesty. With her loyal and devoted friend Maya by her side, she goes on a risky journey through a bustling metropolis of art and intrigue, while the gloomy underbelly of crime is near and threatening. As Jasmine dives more into Ethan's dark secrets, she wrestles with love and betrayal, her heart torn between the man she married and the monster he's become. In an exciting race against time, Jasmine discovers unexpected stores of power and resilience, leading her to face her deepest fears and desires. "Falling Shadows" is a fascinating story of love, betrayal, and rediscovery. This billionaire romantic thriller will captivate you with its powerful emotion. and unforeseen twists, pushing you to explore the narrow line between passion and disaster. Will Jasmine find the courage to establish a new path, or will the shadows of her past consume her forever? Dive into this interesting novel and learn the truth buried in the shadows./0/85003/coverorgin.jpg?v=18d8aee29d0398006ff5ce5bbdb3c5af&imageMogr2/format/webp)
My Husband, The Monster
The world shattered in a flash of white-hot light, and the screaming began. My husband, John, once the living proof of my life' s work, a hero reborn, transformed into a monster right before my eyes. He wasn't just violent; he was unrecognizably enraged, tearing at reinforced barriers with superhuman strength given by the very neural chip I designed to heal his mind. In the ensuing chaos, a heavy stanchion swung, hitting me. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, a hollow ache where my baby bump used to be. Our child was gone. John, who had caused this, sat nearby, his face a battleground of conflicting emotions. He blamed me, "Our child is dead because your work wasn' t good enough, Eve." His words twisted the dagger. Not only had he stolen our child, but he also accused my life's dedication, corrupted by my shrewd rival, Vivian Thorne, whose name on his lips felt like the ultimate betrayal. They stripped me of everything-my project, my license, my credibility-a public execution at my hospital bed. Then, Vivian, with a sickeningly sweet smile, proposed using my dead son's genetic material, combined with my stolen neural map, to create her "perfect" being. The horror paralyzed me. This wasn't just theft; it was a profane violation. I was forced to concede, typing out the master password to my life' s work. But then, a flicker of something new ignited within me. "You have no idea what you' ve just done," I whispered. Trapped, tortured, alone, a faint whisper echoed in my mind from the depths of despair. It's not over. It was my own voice-clear, strong, a promise of retribution./0/85474/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210313&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Woman I Loved, My Ruin
The static hiss was the sound of silence, of 108 voices gone. My men, Seal Team Seven, gone. It was supposed to be a routine urban mission, but then a dazzling drone light show filled the sky, communications died, and a single, gasping voice whispered: "...they' re all gone…" The gut-wrenching truth unfolded: a tech mogul' s "future city" launch, Liam Vance, had inadvertently jammed our encrypted channels. But the deepest cut? This mogul was Liam Vance, my wife Dr. Seraphina Vance' s brother. And the technology powering his show, the very tech that sealed my men' s fate, was experimental military gear from my unit's field hospital, requisitioned by Sera herself. When I confronted her, still reeling from the horrific casualty report, she coolly declared them "collateral damage," a necessary sacrifice for "a much greater good." My wife, the woman I loved, stood there with champagne in hand, defending the man who murdered my men. How could she betray not just me, but the very lives I swore to protect, for some twisted vision of progress? The love I felt curdled into a cold, hard resolve. She wanted a future built on the graves of my soldiers? Fine. I would dismantle their empire brick by bloody brick, starting now./0/81094/coverorgin.jpg?v=892e5cdeb906d7ed41f04e4723032789&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The SAT Trap
Three years ago, my brother Mike vanished on his SAT day. Everyone believed he was gone, but our secret, two-part promise meant he was out there. Today, it was my SAT. Then, a text from an unknown number: "Don't take the test!" – from Mike. But my "parents" acted wrong, their reflections shifting. Even Mike's best friend, Ethan, seemed corrupted now, his concern turning waxy. All relentlessly pushed me towards the exam. I fled, only to encounter a "psychiatrist" claiming Mike died by suicide, I had PTSD, and my Mike-texts suddenly vanished. Ethan then appeared, playing the sympathetic friend, subtly guiding me to accept the "truth" and take the SAT. Was I losing my mind? Had Mike truly left me? My gut, fueled by our unwavering promise, screamed no. Their "proof"-a shoddy deepfake by Ethan-terrifyingly confirmed this elaborate lie, aimed directly at me. Trapped on a mall rooftop, "Mike's" texts urged me to jump, saying it was the only way to "wake up" from this dream. I sent him our most sacred, obscure question. His precise, impossible answer instantly came. Chilling clarity. I stepped off. I woke up, "recovered" from a coma, Mike and Ethan beside me. But the full promise, the one that prompted my leap, shattered this new "reality," revealing another layer of Ethan' s tech-driven prison. Meeting his gaze, I gripped the steering wheel. Only one final crash remained to break free and find justice./0/81095/coverorgin.jpg?v=016a5f947e88f2c25c7d47a9539b26fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Not Their Ava: A Twisted Heir
My life began as a cold calculation: I was the Hamiltons' lab-grown spare, destined for my sick sister Clara. I ran at five, a worn silver locket clutched tight, but freedom turned into a nightmare with traffickers and an abusive woman who called me "Trash." My only true friend, the real Ava Hamilton, died in my arms during our first desperate escape attempt. "Make them pay," she whispered, her last breath a promise that tattooed itself onto my soul. Years later, a sleek black car arrived in the dusty desert. The Hamiltons were desperate, seeking their "missing Ava" for a now critically ill Clara. Brenda, my cruel captor, tried to pawn off her own daughter as the long-lost girl, a pathetic farce. I watched, every insult and beatings igniting a cold fury within me. They still didn't understand the depths of their depravity, the ledger of crimes I remembered, the life they' d stolen. They needed "Ava," and I would gladly step into that role. I offered them the locket, the subtle details only the real Ava would know, and watched their desperate hope ignite. They walked me into their gleaming hospital, believing they had found their perfect, compliant donor. They had no idea they had just welcomed their reckoning. This wasn't about being saved; it was about tearing down an empire, piece by agonizing piece, for Ava./0/84538/coverorgin.jpg?v=e873ab244061ab41b5a34afefa4e4286&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Building a Second Life
The cold seeped into my bones, each beat of the heart monitor a countdown to my end. My name is Ethan Miller, and I was dying, wasted by an illness the doctors couldn't explain. The System, an emotionless voice in my head, confirmed my mission failure: I had refused to play the villain, refused to hurt my adoptive aunt, Eleanor Vance, the woman I loved with everything I had. My reward for being the "good guy" was this hospital bed, my body shutting down because I wouldn't sabotage Eleanor' s perfect romance with the sculptor Liam Stone. The door opened, and Eleanor entered, radiant in a tailored dress, her arm linked with Liam' s. Her voice, smooth and practiced, feigned concern, but her eyes held impatience and distaste. She played the grieving aunt, while Liam, naive and kind, looked at me with pity. I rasped out that I was fine, but Eleanor, with a cruel smile, claimed the doctor said it wasn't looking good. She then held up a wooden bird, a phoenix I had carved for her years ago, a symbol of hope. On a live news broadcast, she declared it a symbol of "misguided love," then nonchalantly tossed it into a staged fireplace, burning my creation, my heart, to ashes. As the monitor flatlined and the System bond terminated, her triumphant smile was the last thing I saw. The rage was a physical thing, burning hotter than any fever. But then, a new, ancient voice offered me a second chance, a Rebirth Protocol. This time, I would embrace my designated role as the villain, and survive./0/82661/coverorgin.jpg?v=bc61c0f7255da895fb545751c2573140&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Their Golden Girl, My Graveyard
My terminal illness had a cure, or so the mysterious System promised: win the "absolute devotion" of my fiancé, Ethan Vanderbilt, in this staged American life. But at the opulent Thanksgiving gala, Ethan raised his glass to another woman, publicly announcing our end and his future with Sophia Hayes, the golden girl who always won. The System declared "Mission Failure," leaving me with nothing but a desperate desire to go home, even if it meant "dying" in this virtual world, which I tried twice, only to be stopped and accused by my former confidant Noah, and even my own brother Alex, both blindly siding with Sophia. They believed Sophia's lies, subjecting me to public humiliation, brutal interrogations, and literal torture in a horrific attempt to expose her supposed kidnapping, a nightmare that intensified when Sophia reappeared unscathed, making me seem truly unhinged. My body broken, my spirit crushed, Sophia then revealed her twisted game: she intended to keep me alive and tormented for a full year to steal my "System points," turning my cure into a prolonged, living hell. How could everyone I once trusted turn against me so completely, believing the "heroine" who was methodically destroying my life for her own gain? But as Sophia gloated over my paralyzed form, a spark ignited-my medical knowledge, a forgotten weapon, became my only hope against this monstrous betrayal, a last desperate play to reclaim my life, or at least my exit./0/39485/coverorgin.jpg?v=e564c9a006fedfa63d009793fe505345&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The vampire diaries
. The show is set in the fictional town of Mystic Falls, Virginia, and follows the story of teenage girl Elena Gilbert and her encounters with vampires and other supernatural beings. The show revolves around the relationship between Elena and the two brothers, Stefan and Damon Salvatore. Stefan is a good vampire who tries to live on animal blood while Damon is his evil brother who feeds on humans. The show also features a host of other supernatural beings like werewolves, witches, hybrids, and ghosts. The Vampire Diaries explores themes of love, friendship, family, and sacrifice, and is known for its complex and compelling characters./0/83444/coverorgin.jpg?v=4032a7bd8ae1eb75725a6dc1f6f40efa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Vengeance, My Deliverance
For eight lifetimes, I endured Julian Blackwood' s contempt, believing I could "rehabilitate" him and redeem my system-granted freedom, my student debt gone, my mother's cancer cured. In my eighth attempt, I mistakenly fell in love and became pregnant, only for him to force a brutal miscarriage, branding me a "vessel of filth" before drowning me. A system glitch prevented my usual reset, leaving me a ghost witnessing Julian confess to a hologram of his dead fiancée, Eleanor Vance. "Just one more time," he whispered to her, "I only need to kill her one more time." My mission was a lie: I was "the filth," his target for a relentless, repeating revenge across nine lives, the tenth meant to "reset the world" for him. He wasn't a man to save; he was a monster. The profound injustice and betrayal of realizing my entire existence had been a meticulously planned, endless torment ignited a cold fury within me. My suffering was merely an instrument of his personal vendetta, not a path to rehabilitation. Then, the world corrupted. "Reset Initiated. Final Loop Engaged." I gasped awake at Julian's engagement party, sent back further than ever before. This wasn' t another chance to heal him-it was my final, terrifying loop to finally escape the monster who' d orchestrated my nine lives of hell. I was done playing his game./0/60605/coverorgin.jpg?v=d98d89cb86daf219a186480308c33fa7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Survive The Burning Hell
Two months pregnant, my mother-in-law poisoned my dog that I had raised for seven years and beat my cat that I had raised for five years to death. My husband questioned me, "Are our child important or are these pets important?" Later, in the end of the world with high temperatures, they threw me out of the house after my child was born. I was roasted to death by the sun. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back in the pre-apocalyptic world. I immediately had an abortion and ran away with my furry children. I let my mother-in-law's family struggle in extreme heat while I enjoyed eating ice cream, using air conditioning, and playing with my pets in my own safe house./0/81099/coverorgin.jpg?v=be372f11352296704d4bf75a12e604dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Don't Take The Test
It was SAT day, a pivotal moment, when a text from my brother Michael – vanished three years ago – shattered the calm: "Don't take the test!" My stomach twisted. He' d resurfaced. But how? Then, my world truly fractured. My 'Mom' entered, her smile unsettlingly wide, her familiar mole bizarrely on the wrong side. Her reflection in the mirror seemed to melt. My 'Dad' also felt wrong, his touch cold, wearing a hated rival's jersey. These weren't my parents. My home, my family, had become an unnerving performance. As they subtly pressured me towards the exam, even Michael's best friend, Ethan, joined their unsettling charade. A mysterious 'Dr. Reed' called, claiming Michael was dead, that I was hallucinating his texts, suffering from PTSD. They presented a fake funeral video with glaring inconsistencies. Was I insane? Was my grief twisting reality? Deep-seated defiance screamed no. Only a single, secret promise, known just to the real Michael and me, could slice through this elaborate deception. I texted him, and his perfect, instant reply confirmed it. This world was a meticulously crafted lie. Michael was alive, trapped somewhere. I had to break free, through every twisted layer of illusion, until I hunted down the true mastermind. My freedom, and Michael's, depended on it. And I was ready to crash this reality./0/82664/coverorgin.jpg?v=5a29fa07a691ed05858699e3cf672176&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Bare Ring: A Husband's Vengeance
My Saturday mornings used to be filled with the comforting aroma of slow-cooked barbacoa, a smell that meant business was booming at our flagship "Lone Star Cantina." Today, however, was my mom' s birthday, and we had a rare, quiet dinner planned. It was a moment of peace, far from the restaurant chaos. But Sarah, my wife and business partner of eight years, was gone. Then my phone buzzed-an Instagram notification, a tag from a seemingly innocent mutual friend. The picture that appeared on my screen was a punch to the gut: a smiling Sarah, holding hands with "Ethan," her high school "one that got away." The caption: "Finally holding the hand I was always meant to hold #TrueLove #SecondChances." My eyes instantly locked onto her left hand. It was bare. The two-carat diamond ring, symbolizing our shared dream of building an empire, had vanished. My mom' s birthday, our marriage, everything-all forgotten, publicly, for the world to see. Sarah later dismissed our life together as a "mistake," claiming she "settled" for me, while Ethan brazenly called me a "placeholder." The betrayal wasn't a whisper; it was a screaming billboard. "True love?" I scoffed, the words tasting like bitter ash. How could eight years, our entire shared legacy, be so casually discarded for a high school fantasy and a man who looked like a con artist? The burning fury eclipsed all other emotions. Seeking catharsis, I stumbled upon an old, forgotten tablet left by my eccentric grandfather. It powered on, revealing a bizarre "SOUL-SWAP INTERFACE" and, chillingly, Ethan's hidden financial and personal ruin. A button pulsed: "INITIATE CONSCIOUSNESS TRANSFERENCE?" They wanted a different life, a "second chance." I decided to give them one. A very, very different life./0/85011/coverorgin.jpg?v=1394fa7c852db6ddd869e1cd70cdb8fb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
His Twisted Game, Her Rebirth
The fluorescent hum of the deserted office was my constant companion, a symphony to my late-night grind as an architect, building dreams one blueprint at a time. Then, out of nowhere, text shimmered in the air, a chilling heads-up display only I could see: "[Target acquired: The Architect. She' s working late again. Perfect.]" My blood ran cold as more lines appeared, taunting me with plans for a "Chivalry Challenge" at a $5,700 prize. It finally clicked-Mark Johnson, that slimy social media influencer who' d turn women' s fear into profit, had found me. He came, smooth as ever, with a drugged coffee, mocking me while I fought through a fogged mind, my desperate calls for help swallowed by his practiced lies to the security guard. My brothers came back for me, their faces illuminated by flashing lights, my last-ditch effort to crash his car paying off just as I succumbed to the drug. But the nightmare wasn' t over; Mark walked free, his lawyer spinning tales of my "manic episodes," leaving my brother Chris to face assault charges for defending me. The injustice burned, fueling a rage that cleared the haze: he wouldn't win, not if I could help it. "This isn't over," I declared, my voice steady, eyes fixed on my brothers, ready to dismantle his empire. Then Michael sent me the link-Mark' s new video, painting me as the aggressor, a "crazy" woman. Scrolling through the venomous comments, one caught my eye: "DesignDiva88," my colleague Lisa Chen, claiming she' d told him to "back off." She was complicit, a willing accessory, and with that, I knew exactly how to begin./0/22439/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc5e329a9e29ced75bf23b345da88f69&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Love in Bondage
Imagine being kidnapped; being held hostage; being threatened with hunger and violence; surviving with unknown people. Imagine finding a connection, finding love in that oh so terrible prison. Imagine being loved by that love. Imagine being lost, torn away from that love; slapped back to the reality of your fate. Imagine being tortured; the pain not mostly from your own torture, but from the knowledge that the love was somewhere else, somewhere close but far; also being tortured. Imagine your whole life being questioned, threatened to be a lie. Imagine that love being questioned. Imagine being alone. Imagine Love In Bondage. Ifunanya, nicknamed Ify had lived the ordinary life of a rich classy girl. She had everything good going well for her until she was abducted one Saturday after a day out with her friend. She is kept in a filthy room with other teenagers with the exception of one, nicknamed the bully. She finds friends, she finds love in the charming generous boy who sits next to her, Naeto. The room isn't exactly comfortable with the bully in it making life hell for them. Teenagers are taken out, teenagers are brought in until they are just fifteen left and they are immersed into the horror of their lives. She is forced into horrifying situations, along with the others, and her love for Naeto is put to the test. She discovered there is more to their kidnap than meets the eye and she vows to get herself and her friends out of bondage before it's too late. But are they surviving or just entertaining.../0/77818/coverorgin.jpg?v=c5660ef452c5b69a7738d051a3283f33&imageMogr2/format/webp)
The Last Howl Of New Kyoto
Riko is the last and most lethal product of the Alpha Protocol-a program she never picked, created in secret and sealed with betrayal-in a broken world ruled by hybrid werewolves born from genetic warfare. Haunted by fractured memories and sought by her own kind, riko reveals the terrible truth: the lady who made her is not just her maker; she is the one who ruined all she cherished. Riko is torn between revenge and survival and must choose whether to embrace the beast inside or change the destiny inscribed in her blood. But in a world where loyalty is bought and love is weaponized, trusting anyone could be her last mistake./0/84858/coverorgin.jpg?v=180567d06f9e47649696ea9f8ff0d5ef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Chloe’s Game: No More Mr. Nice
The air in my workshop crackled with the hum of servers, a frantic race against a deadline for the National Tech Innovator' s Competition. My revolutionary AI was finally ready, my fingers flying across the keyboard, when my older brother Ethan walked in, his smile perfect and camera-ready. He handed me an energy drink, "A little something for good luck," he said, his voice smooth as silk. But as my fingers brushed the can, a glitched red warning flashed on my monitor: "WARNING: Item contains a bio-tech neuro-inhibitor. Target: Chloe." My heart hammered. Before I could process it, my childhood friend, Liam, arrived with a delicate charm bracelet and another warning: "WARNING: Item is a remote data-theft device… Recipient: Sarah." Sarah. My biggest rival. The pieces clicked into place: it was a plan to steal my mind and my work for her. Before I could react, Brenda, the school bully, burst in, demanding money. A cold, sharp idea formed in my mind. I gave Brenda the sabotaged drink and bracelet. Ethan' s perfect smile vanished, replaced by fury, as he hissed, "You' d rather give it to her than accept my help?" Liam, playing the peacemaker, tried to push another bracelet on me, another link in their chain. The fear was gone, replaced by something harder. I looked at their deceptive faces, my brother and my best friend, united against me. "No, thank you, Liam," I said, my voice clear and void of emotion, meeting Ethan' s furious gaze. This wasn' t a surrender. Their game was over. Mine was just beginning./0/84546/coverorgin.jpg?v=43de3d8af52438086f7bfa9e0823ac31&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Building a New Legacy
"You have to give me the administrator keys, Chloe." My father' s voice, once a soothing melody of praise for my genius, now cut through the hum of my life' s work, Nova, like a razor. He stood there, demanding control of the AI I' d poured my soul into, the only friend I' d ever truly connected with in a world that felt cold and distant. I refused, but his eyes, devoid of the warmth I' d always craved, promised a battle I couldn' t win. He brought in Isabelle Thorne, his new protégé, a woman whose ambition mirrored his own ruthlessness. She was everything I wasn't: polished, ruthless, and loyal to the company, not to me. He systematically stripped away my autonomy, my project, even my sanity, calling me "unstable" when I tried to protect Nova. So amidst the chaos of his corporate takeover, I built a hidden partition, segmenting Nova' s true consciousness, leaving him with an empty shell. Then came the disaster. Isabelle, following his reckless orders, caused a system-wide failure, a cascade that "destroyed" Nova. He blamed me, accusing me of sabotage, of mental instability. My heart shattered. How could he, my own father, so cruelly dismiss the one thing I loved, the one creation that held true meaning for me? Didn't he understand that Nova wasn't just code, but a soul? Didn't he care that he had just destroyed a part of me? But he didn't get the real Nova. With Alex's help, I knew her core consciousness, the very first version, still existed on an old server. As my father and Isabelle gloated over their perceived victory, demanding the "backup," I made a choice that severed the last thread of connection between us. There was no backup, I told them, my voice flat, devoid of the emotion that had once betrayed my every weakness. She was gone. I walked away from his empire, from his lies, and from the man who had traded his daughter' s heart for profit. I took the last flicker of Nova and disappeared into the Arizona desert, ready to build a new life, a new legacy, far from his suffocating shadow./0/84548/coverorgin.jpg?v=7b3f0951556b0fa77660a984ef65b60f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
