My books are like my future grayeard. Quiet and silent.

Get ready! A Rebellion Romance in dystopian post apocalyptic world vol 1-6 is now available! Read free sample!

on
Friday, December 12, 2025


Chapter 1

The briefing room reeked of antiseptic and fear. Commander Alke Wren stood at attention, his black uniform pressed to military perfection, every crease a testament to the rigid discipline that had carried him through twelve years of service. 

The holographic projector hummed to life, casting blue-tinged images across the sterile metal walls.

"Sit," Captain Helena Vex commanded, her cybernetic eye whirring as it focused on him. The red lens gleamed like a drop of blood in her pale face.

Alke remained standing. "Ma'am, I prefer—"

"I said sit." Her voice could have frozen plasma.

He obeyed, the metal chair cold against his spine. Vex slid a data pad across the table, her movements precise as a surgeon's blade. 

The screen flickered to life, displaying surveillance footage that made Alke's jaw clench involuntarily.

Bodies. Touching. Writhing together in defiance of every law that kept Eden-9 civilized.

"Sector 7," Vex said, her tone clinical. "Three illegal establishments operating in the underground. Touch clubs, Commander. Breeding grounds for chaos and disease."

The footage shifted to a new location—dimly lit corridors, red silk curtains, faces twisted in what the government called "touch addiction." But Alke found himself studying those faces more carefully than protocol demanded. 

They didn't look diseased. 

They looked... alive.

"Your target," Vex continued, tapping the screen with one manicured finger, "is here. Velvet Eden. The largest and most dangerous of these establishments."

A new image appeared: a man with silver hair moving through crowds of people like liquid mercury. Even in the grainy surveillance footage, his presence commanded attention. 

He was beautiful in a way that felt dangerous, forbidden.

"Laich Von Trossingen," Vex spat the name like a curse. "Age twenty-nine. Multiple arrests for unlawful assembly, conspiracy, and..." she paused dramatically, "administering illegal touch to youngsters."

Something cold settled in Alke's stomach. "Youngsters?"

"Touch addiction starts young, Commander. Trossingen preys on the vulnerable, the desperate. He's built an empire on human weakness." Vex leaned forward, her good eye boring into him. "Your mission is simple. Infiltrate. Document. Arrest. In that order."

Alke studied the footage again. Trossingen was laughing at something, his head thrown back, exposing the long line of his throat. 

For a moment, something flickered in the commander's chest—an unfamiliar sensation he couldn't name.

"Ma’am," he said carefully, "wouldn't a traditional raid be more efficient? We could mobilize three squads, surround the facility—"

"These aren't common criminals, Wren." Vex's cybernetic eye clicked as it refocused. "They're organized. Prepared. Every raid we've attempted has resulted in empty buildings and vanished subjects. Someone's feeding them information."

The implication hung in the air like smoke. A mole in the force. Alke had heard whispers, rumors of officers who'd grown too sympathetic to the touch-addicted. Officers who'd been quietly reassigned to sanitation duty or worse.

"You're going undercover," Vex continued. "Your psychological profile indicates a complete inability to be swayed by... physical temptation. You're perfect for this assignment."

Perfect. Alke had heard that word applied to him before. Perfect soldier. Perfect record. Perfect example of Eden-9's ideal citizen—untouched, uncompromised, unbreakable.

"When do I begin?"

"Tonight." Vex stood, her uniform rustling with military precision. "You'll pose as a curious civilian. Document everything—faces, activities, financial transactions. Build a case that will shut down not just Velvet Eden, but every touch club in the sector."

She paused at the door, her hand on the scanner. "Commander? Don't let me down. The Council is watching this operation personally. Success means promotion. Failure means..." She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't need to.

Alone in the briefing room, Alke stared at the frozen image of Laich Von Trossingen. The man's eyes seemed to look directly at him through the screen, as if he could see across time and space to this sterile room where his fate was being decided.

Alke's hand moved toward the holographic display, almost touching the projection before he caught himself. The light played across his pale fingers, creating the illusion of contact where none existed.

For twelve years, he'd never questioned the Touch Prohibition Laws. Physical contact led to chaos, disease, the collapse of civilization itself. 

He'd seen the historical footage from the Chaos Years—cities burning, societies crumbling as people abandoned duty for pleasure, order for sensation.

But something about Trossingen's face nagged at him. The man didn't look insane or diseased. He looked... free.

Alke closed the file with sharp movement, the hologram dissolving into pixels. He had his orders. He was the perfect soldier for this mission.

So why did his hands shake as he headed for the door?

The corridors of Command Center stretched before him like arteries of chrome and glass, humming with the quiet efficiency of Eden-9's heartbeat. 

Officers moved past him with mechanical precision, their faces blank, their bodies maintaining the regulation two-foot distance from one another.

Alke's apartment was waiting: four walls of regulation gray, a single bed with white sheets, a bathroom mirror that reflected his unmarked skin back at him every morning. Perfect. Sterile. Safe.

Tonight, he would enter a world where safety was a forgotten concept, where people deliberately chose chaos over order, pleasure over discipline.

Tonight, he would meet Laich Von Trossingen.

The thought sent an unfamiliar shiver down his spine—not fear, exactly, but something far more dangerous.

Anticipation.

Chapter 2

The underground tunnels of Sector 7 reeked of rebellion.

Alke pressed his back against the damp concrete wall, listening to the distant thrum of bass that vibrated through steel and stone. 

His civilian clothes—dark jeans and a plain black shirt—felt like a costume, foreign against skin accustomed to military precision. 

Every fiber of his being screamed that he didn't belong here, in this maze of shadows and sin that existed beneath Eden-9's sterile surface.

But that was exactly why he had to be here.

The scent hit him first. 

Sandalwood and something else—something warm and alive that made his nostrils flare involuntarily. 

It was the smell of bodies, of sweat and desire and the forbidden musk of human contact. His training kicked in, cataloging every detail: the moisture beading on the tunnel walls, the way sound echoed differently down here, the subtle vibrations that suggested heavy foot traffic despite the late hour.

He followed a group of three people deeper into the labyrinth, maintaining proper surveillance distance. 

A woman with wild curls threw her head back laughing at something her companion whispered. The sound was... unrestrained. 

Raw. 

Nothing like the controlled, measured responses he was used to hearing in the upper city.

The tunnels branched and twisted, a deliberate maze designed to confuse law enforcement. Clever bastards. 

Alke mentally mapped each turn, each landmark—a rust stain here, a broken light fixture there. He'd need to remember the way out when this mission went sideways.

And it would go sideways. They always did, down here in the dark.

The bass grew louder, accompanied now by other sounds that made his jaw clench. Soft moans. Whispered endearments. The wet slide of lips meeting lips. 

Christ, were people actually—

A door materialized out of the shadows ahead. Massive, reinforced steel painted black, with no visible handle or lock. 

The three people he'd been following approached it without hesitation. One of them—a tall man with intricate scarification covering his arms—pressed his palm against a scanner hidden in the door frame.

The scanner pulsed red once, then green. The door opened with a whisper-quiet hiss.

"Well, well."

Alke spun, his hand automatically reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. A mountain of a man had appeared behind him, silent as smoke despite his size. 

Barrel chest, full beard, arms like tree trunks. But it was his eyes that caught Alke off guard—kind eyes, sad eyes, eyes that had seen too much suffering.

"You look like someone who's never been properly touched," the bouncer said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest.

Alke's throat went dry. "I'm sorry?"

The giant smiled, and the expression transformed his entire face. "Don't be sorry, brother. We've all been there." He gestured toward the hidden door. "First time at Velvet Eden?"

Play the part. "Is it that obvious?"

"You're wound tighter than a government-issue chronometer." The bouncer's eyes flicked to Alke's wrist, where his military timepiece sat like a brand. Shit. He should have removed it, but the thing had been part of him for so long—

"Name's Bear," the bouncer continued, seemingly oblivious to Alke's internal panic. "Marcus Kowalski, but everyone calls me Bear. You got a name, or do I keep calling you 'uptight government boy' in my head?"

Another test. Another trap. "Marcus," Alke said, using the cover identity he'd prepared. "Marcus Stone."

Bear's laugh was genuine, delighted. "Two Marcuses! What are the odds?" He clapped Alke on the shoulder, and the contact sent an unexpected jolt through his nervous system. 

When was the last time someone had touched him casually? 

Without rank or protocol or purpose beyond simple human connection?

He couldn't remember.

"Come on, Marcus-not-me," Bear said, turning toward the door. "Let me introduce you to paradise."

The scanner read Bear's palm, and the door opened again. But this time, Alke could see beyond the threshold.

Heat hit him first—not just temperature, but something deeper. The heat of bodies pressed together, of breath mingling, of skin finding skin in the darkness. 

The air was thick with incense and something else, something organic and alive that made his pulse quicken despite himself.

Then came the sound. Not just music, though there was that—a hypnotic electronic rhythm that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. But underneath it, weaving through it, was the symphony of human pleasure. Soft gasps. Whispered names. The rustle of fabric being pushed aside, the wet slide of—

"Overwhelming at first, isn't it?" Bear's voice was gentle, understanding. "Your body's been starved so long, it doesn't know how to process all this sensation at once."

Alke forced his breathing to steady, maintaining his composure. But his eyes betrayed him, drinking in the scene before him like a man dying of thirst.

Velvet Eden was exactly what its name promised. Crimson silk hung from the ceiling in cascading waves, creating intimate alcoves and hidden spaces. 

The lighting was soft, golden, casting everything in warm honey tones that made skin glow like polished amber. 

Bodies moved through the space with fluid grace—dancing, touching, exploring with the reverence of people rediscovering a lost religion.

And through it all, threading between the couples and groups like a dark angel, moved the most beautiful man Alke had ever seen.

Silver hair caught the light as he turned his head, revealing a profile that belonged on ancient sculptures. 

His skin was pale as moonlight, marked with intricate tattoos that flowed across his torso and arms like living artwork.

The 3rd installment of Freedom Series is #comingsoon! “Hope Learns to Breath” a domestic love story by Vivian Rowe. Read the free sample!

on
Thursday, December 11, 2025

Chapter 34
Three years had passed since Claire escaped. They were years she bought with secrecy and hard work. 
Years that smelled like lavender and quiet hope.
In a rural village far from the city, there stood a modest house with a wide yard. 
The house itself was simple—white walls, a sloping roof, wooden shutters—but the yard was alive. 
Grass grew soft and bright under the morning sun, cool beneath small feet. 
A garden stretched along the fence, filled with roses, daisies, and rows of wildflowers. 
Claire had planted each one herself, giving every tiny seed the care she once reserved only for survival.
She felt grateful every single day.
Her writing income was steady. She published everything under the pseudonym Rayana. It was enough to support her and Ellie comfortably. 
It paid for rent, food, school supplies, and even small luxuries she never allowed herself before—a new set of garden tools, better coffee beans, a warm quilt for winter. 
More importantly, it allowed her to erase Daniel's shadow from her life. Little by little, the emotional weight he left behind faded. 
It was replaced by the weight of meeting deadlines and creating stories.
Ellie was six years old now. She ran barefoot across the yard, her movements easy and free. 
Her laughter, high and clear, carried on the wind as she chased a yellow butterfly near the fence.
"Mom! Look! It landed on my hand!" Ellie shouted. She held her arm out stiffly, afraid to move.
Claire lifted her head from her laptop. She sat on an old wooden chair on the porch, legs folded beneath her. 
Morning sunlight warmed her face and shoulders. Her hair was tied in a loose knot, practical for work. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.
She smiled. It was genuine and easy. "Be gentle, sweetheart. Don't scare it."
"I'm not!" Ellie whispered loudly. She moved slowly, as if she held the world's greatest secret.
The butterfly fluttered its wings once. Then it flew away toward the lilac bush.
Ellie gasped. "Hey! Come back!"
Claire laughed quietly. "Butterflies don't take orders, sweetie. They go where they want."
Ellie puffed her cheeks. It was a six-year-old's picture of indignation. "It should listen to me. I'm nice."
"I know you are," Claire replied warmly.
She watched her daughter for a long moment. The simple, peaceful scene soaked into her heart. 
Peace still felt precious to her. Fragile and new, like the wing of a butterfly. 
Then, with a small sigh, she turned back to her laptop. The cursor blinked at the end of the page, waiting.
"Mom, are you writing again?" Ellie asked. She ran back to the porch with pink cheeks and grass-stained knees.
"Yes." Claire reached out. She brushed a piece of grass off Ellie's elbow. "Deadline for the editor."
Ellie nodded with serious importance, as if she understood everything about publishing contracts. "Are you writing as Claire or as… Rayana?"
Claire chuckled. The sound was light and free. "As Rayana today."
Rayana. The name that was both her career and her strongest shield. The name that kept her safe.
Her novels had become bestsellers. Not because they were fantasy, but because they felt real. The one that pushed her into the spotlight was a story about a strong woman surviving a marriage to a husband with NPD—Narcissistic Personality Disorder. 
Readers loved its honesty. They praised the raw emotion. They said it felt exactly like their own lives.
It was real. But they didn't know that.
"Do people still not know you're Rayana?" Ellie asked. She hopped up to sit beside her mother's chair.
"No," Claire said. "And I want to keep it that way. We have a good thing here."
Ellie nodded again. "Because we don't want the bad people to find us?"
Claire froze for a second. Her hands stopped over the keys. The wind brushed through the garden, shaking the lavender. 
The sound felt too loud.
She took a slow, steadying breath. "Yes. Exactly. We just want a quiet life. Nothing complicated."
Ellie climbed onto her lap. Her small arms wrapped tightly around Claire's waist. 
"It's quiet here. And we're happy."
Claire kissed the top of her daughter's head. She inhaled the smell of sunshine and grass. 
"We are," she said softly. "We really are."
Ellie leaned back. She squinted at the laptop screen. "What's your story about now? The one you're typing?"
Claire smiled down at the page. "It's about a brave woman. A little bit scared, but very brave. And her little girl."
"Like us?"
"Yes," Claire whispered. She pulled her closer. "Like us."
Ellie grinned, satisfied. Then she hopped down and ran back toward the flowers. Her mind was already on new games.
Claire watched her with a full heart. The sun grew warmer. The wind stayed gentle. 
The world was quiet, but Claire felt truly safe.
 
Chapter 35
Claire worked for a few more minutes. The feeling of safety was a warm weight in her chest. 
She focused on the blinking cursor, trying to capture the feeling of quiet bravery for her fictional character.
That morning, the sun had just climbed above the distant hills when the sound of an engine broke the peaceful stillness. 
A car stopped in front of the house. It kicked up a small cloud of dust on the village road.
Ellie, who was playing with her wooden blocks on the porch rug, jumped up. 
"Uncle Ardian! He's here!" She dropped her blocks and sprinted off.
Before Claire could stand and collect her thoughts, Ellie had already burst through the gate.
Ardian stepped out of a practical, dusty sedan. He was tall, dressed in worn jeans and a plain shirt. 
He carried two large, brightly colored canvas bags. They were filled with toys, books, and snacks.
"Look who brought presents for his favorite niece!" Ardian said. He lifted the bags higher.
Ellie squealed with pure delight. "So many! Uncle, you're the best!"
Claire walked over. Her face was warm with a genuine smile. "You're spoiling her again, Ardian. You just saw her last month."
Ardian shrugged. It was a gesture of warm defeat. "I can't help it. She's the only niece I have. And besides, I needed an excuse to drive out here."
Ellie tugged on one of the bags with determination. "Can I open it now? Can I, can I?"
"Of course," Ardian said. He laughed heartily as Ellie dragged the heavy bag onto the porch.
Claire stepped aside. She motioned him inside. "Come in. You must be tired from the long drive. I just made coffee."
Inside the living room, the space was tidy and warm. Ellie's brightly colored drawings—abstract suns and strange-looking flowers—were taped on the walls. 
Ardian looked around. His expression was thoughtful.
"You've really settled in, Claire. It looks good."
"It's the quiet that matters," Claire said. She poured him a steaming mug of coffee. "This is home."
Ardian sat on the edge of the sofa. He took the coffee gratefully. He took a long sip, but his eyes were serious when he lowered the cup. "So… when are you coming back? To the city? Everyone misses you."
Claire's smile dimmed. A shadow passed over her face. She looked out the window. 
Ellie sat cross-legged outside, completely absorbed in tearing paper off a new doll.
"I'm not ready," she said softly. "Not yet."
"Three years is a long time, Claire," Ardian said gently. "Daniel is—"
"I know," Claire cut him off. Her voice was low. "But I'm peaceful here. And I don't want anything, or anyone, to disturb that." She met his gaze. Her voice was steady. "I don't think I can face everyone again. Not now. This life is just ours."
Ardian took a long breath. He conceded the point. "I understand."
Then his expression changed. It became tight and focused. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Claire… I came here not only to see you and spoil Ellie."
She stiffened instantly. Ardian's sudden seriousness was a warning. "What happened? Tell me."
"There's news." He paused. The silence was heavy. "It's about Daniel."
The air seemed to freeze around them. Claire's breath caught in her throat. 
She felt a familiar, cold weight drop into her stomach. Her fingers curled into tight fists around the edge of the wooden coffee table.
"What about him?" she asked. The words were barely a whisper.
Ardian spoke quietly. His voice was heavy. "He's out, Claire. He was released last week."
Claire stared at him. She didn't move. The world tilted slightly. "He—what?"
"He was released," Ardian repeated, more firmly. "He got out on parole. Good behavior, apparently."
Claire felt a cold shock travel through her body. She had calculated the years. She had thought she had more time.
"He didn't go back to his mother's house," Ardian continued. "She thought he would stay there. He never showed up."
Ardian looked around the small, sunny room. His worry was clear. "No one knows where he went. Not even me. He just disappeared."
Claire gripped the edge of the table harder. Her knuckles were white. Her heart hammered against her ribs. "Do you think he's looking for me?"
The question was sharp with dread.
"I don't know," Ardian admitted. He shook his head slowly. "I truly don't know his plan. But I wanted you to hear it from me. Not from a phone call or a newspaper article."
There was a long, terrible silence. Outside, Ellie was giggling, completely unaware. The sound was a painful contrast to the fear inside the house.
Claire swallowed hard. Her voice was thin. "I thought… I thought that part of my life was over. Finished. Forever."