Sam Nixon
2 Published Stories
Sam Nixon's Books and Stories
REBIRTH: SEVEN DAYS BEFORE DOOMSDAY
Modern When the apocalypse turned the world into a living hell overrun by zombies and awakened monsters, Kara thought she would at least have her husband by her side. She was wrong.
When she discovers that her husband, Ethan, was cheating on her with her best friend, he burns Kara to ashes and leaves her for dead.
But Kara's story hasn't ended because fate gives her another chance; Rebirth.
She wakes up seven days before the apocalypse began with only one goal in her mind: To become the strongest so no one else could use her.
Kara immediately ends her marriage, wins the lottery using her past knowledge and buys an isolated and easily defensible home surrounded by a river. She starts preparing for the future while stocking up food and water, and also gathering medicine and weapons.
She had seven days to prepare. But just when Kara thought her life was going to go in one direction, she gets another surprise from fate; a superpower.
While everyone else would have to wait until the apocalypse began to awaken their abilities, Kara had already awakened hers.
And this time, she wouldn't sacrifice herself for anyone. She would take everything she needed, settle every unfinished score, build her own kingdom, and cut down anyone who would dare stand in her way.
In seven days, the world collapses. And when it finally happens, Kara would be waiting. You might like
His Unwanted Wife, The Hidden Genius
Qing Cheng I flew back to New York on my twenty-fifth birthday, carrying vintage gold cufflinks I spent weeks finding for my billionaire husband, Declan.
But when I walked into our townhouse, I found him throwing a massive victory party with Sloane, a glamorous socialite, standing by his side as the proud hostess.
"Don't cause a scene. Go upstairs."
Declan coldly dismissed me in front of his guests.
Even Poppy, the rookie player whose shattered ankle I had painstakingly rebuilt, rolled her eyes and ignored me to suck up to Sloane.
Hiding in the shadows, I heard the maids gossiping that everyone thought Sloane was the future Mrs. Hartford.
To make matters worse, I discovered Sloane had stolen my anonymous, groundbreaking medical algorithm and was planning to present it as her own.
First my husband, then the girl I mentored like family, and now the scientific foundation I had built with my own hands.
Declan even texted me to cancel our birthday breakfast without a single apology, treating me like an annoying afterthought.
My tears vanished, replaced by a freezing clarity.
I signed the divorce papers, leaving them on his desk with zero demands for his money.
Then I packed my bags, booked a one-way ticket to Boston, and prepared to destroy them on the global stage. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" The Rejected Jinx Is A Billionaire Heiress
Lucy Cartwright For eighteen years, I was the Tucker family's adopted punching bag, while their biological daughter, Jessica, was treated like royalty.
The moment I graduated college, they kicked me out. Brenda Tucker sneered, calling me a jinx who was bankrupting their company.
But I knew the truth. They were erasing me to ensure I wouldn't ruin Jessica's chances of seducing Beckett Sinclair, a billionaire hockey heir, at an upcoming high-society banquet.
She threw a fifty-thousand-dollar check at my feet like I was a beggar, ordering me to never claim I knew them.
My adoptive father, who had ruined his own company with terrible investments, actually grabbed my arm and demanded I beg the Sinclairs for a bailout on my way out.
When I refused, they cursed me, screaming that I was destined to rot in some backwater town forever.
I walked into the cold New York night with my two scuffed suitcases, feeling completely hollow. I thought I was just a discarded orphan, thrown away by the only family I had ever known.
But then, an older man pulled up to the corner. He handed me a faded photograph of a woman who looked exactly like me.
"Miss Chloe, I am here to take you home."
That was how I found out I wasn't an abandoned orphan. I was maliciously switched at birth, and my real parents-the billionaire owners of the New York Monarchs-had been searching for me for twenty-two years. The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Dying Wife, Billion-Dollar Regret: The Captain Begs Too Late
Delight Abudu Three years of secret marriage.
A Stage 3 cancer diagnosis on our anniversary.
And a $20 million firework show across Boston Harbor-for another woman.
On the day I was told I was dying, I stood in the cold hospital lobby and watched the breaking news. Courtney Trevino-the ruthless NHL captain, billionaire heir, and the husband who hadn't looked at me in years-was wrapping his coat around his dazzling "soulmate," Blair, kissing her under a sky lit with her initials.
He came home at 1:00 AM with red lipstick smeared on his collar. He didn't ask why I was awake. He just pinned me to the chair with cold, arrogant eyes:
"It's your ovulation window. Lie down and do your job. You wanted to be Mrs. Trevino-now give my family an heir."
When I refused, he ordered me to do the unthinkable: as his PR manager, I had to draft the official press release declaring him single-personally washing his mistress clean of homewrecker rumors.
Everyone treated me like a pathetic, clingy nobody who trapped a god into marriage.
Courtney smirked when I whispered the word divorce.
"Stop throwing tantrums, Camille. You have nowhere else to go. You'll come crawling back."
He was dead wrong.
I left my wedding band on the counter, signed away every penny of his fortune, and walked out the door with a single suitcase.
What Courtney and high society forgot was who I was before this toxic cage: the premier mind in aerospace biomechanics, the classified legend behind military combat drones, and an untouchable tech pioneer. The "genius" mistress he worshipped wasn't even fit to read my discarded drafts.
I have months left to live. I won't waste another second begging for scraps of love.
Courtney thought I was bluffing.
Until he found the bloody medical reports in the trash, the divorce papers in his archive, and the entire world falling to its knees for the genius he threw away... Betrayed Bride: Marrying The Ice Tyrant
Valeria On our third engagement anniversary, I bought my fiancé the watch he had wanted for months.
But my phone's location tracker led me to a secluded overlook, where I caught him rocking his car with another woman.
The woman in the passenger seat was my stepsister, Sienna.
When I exposed their affair, my adoptive parents didn't comfort me.
Instead, they called to scream at me for ruining the family's reputation.
They even rewrote history, claiming Sienna was the one who saved my fiancé from drowning six years ago, and I had stolen her credit.
Carter shamelessly agreed with their lies.
"She's been quietly supporting me all this time... I misunderstood."
I was disowned, thrown out into the freezing rain, and my adoptive father threatened to use his corporate empire to crush my small bakery.
I finally understood that to them, I was just a temporary placeholder, a stepping stone for Sienna to take everything I cherished whenever she pleased.
I refused to let them destroy me.
To protect my bakery and tear down their hypocritical lives, I walked into the penthouse of New York's most ruthless billionaire to propose a fake PR relationship.
But he slid a two-year marriage contract across the table instead.
Before I could fully process marrying a man I barely knew, a little blonde girl ran into the room and tugged at my dress.
"Are you my new mommy?" Awakening My Vicious Underground Biker Husband
Kinship For twenty years, I was kept in a gilded cage as the Daugherty family's most valuable political bargaining chip.
But on the day of my arranged marriage, my corrupt father gave my fiancé to my cruel younger sister, Brinley. Instead, I was shipped off to the badlands to marry Erik "Grim" Marshall, the brutal President of an outlaw biker club, who was reportedly paralyzed and dying from a shattered spine.
Brinley flaunted her designer wedding gown in my face, boasting about how she stole my life and ordered bulldozers to destroy my late mother's rose garden.
"Get in the car and crawl off to that biker compound to die."
My father coldly threw me to the wolves to save his own skin. When I arrived at the heavily guarded biker compound, the gang members treated me like disposable trash. They tried to extort my dowry and locked me in a dark, rotting quarantine basement to wait for my new husband to die.
They all thought I was just a weak, discarded princess, meant to spend my miserable life cleaning bedpans for a crippled warlord before being torn apart by his violent gang.
What they didn't know was that I was a lethal combat surgeon and toxicologist.
Before I left, I planted a specialized neurotoxin in Brinley's dress that would turn her wedding night into a humiliating, public bloodbath. And as I looked down at the "dying" biker king on the steel table, I pulled out my scalpel. I wasn't here to rot in the dirt; I was going to cure this monster and use him to carve out an empire of my own. 
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