City of Pawns

R doesn’t dream—she executes. As a first-class Retriever in a city that survives on drugs and the illusion of order, her job is simple: follow protocol, secure convictions, keep chaos outside the walls. But a detainee’s last words, crack the armor she’s worn her whole career.

When R crosses paths with another enforcer, duty begins to blur into doubt. Leads pull R beyond her comfort zone into a world that still breathes without permission, and to a locked room where a single act of mercy sets a quiet revolution in motion.

As explosions rattle the skyline and whispers of a hidden resistance grow louder, R must decide whether to remain a piece in someone else’s game—or change the rules.

City of Pawns is a lean, propulsive dystopian about loyalty, conscience, and the courage it takes to step off the line. Perfect for fans of Fahrenheit 451, Nineteen Eighty-Four, and The Matrix, it pairs high-stakes action with a journey of awakening.

Get it on Amazon!

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The Black Audi

The Black Audi By Jij Berg The interior of the black Audi was dark and cool. B kept the temperature just above ten degrees, enough to prevent the windows from fogging. He circled the outskirts of the city, looking for good lines of sight and potential routes the hunter might use. In the autumn night, the matte black station wagon with dark tinted windows was barely visible. B merged onto the highway circling the city, and smiled as he floored the gas pedal. The V8 roared as it passed five thousand RPM before shifting smoothly down to cruising speed. No need to take risks, he wasn’t in a rush. The cops could even pull him over, he had a valid european license. They wouldn’t find a reason to search the car. And even if they did, they wouldn’t find the gun compartment under the back seat, they had tried before. B took exit fifteen and after a few hundred meters on smaller roads he pulled into a parking lot next to a church. Parked beneath a tree, the car would be nearly invisible. B got o...

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Lord of the Flies By Jij Berg Grapes of Wrath It was an early Saturday morning in November—cold, rainy, and dull. A classic South Swedish semi-winter: damp and gray, but never crisp or clean. Greg trudged toward the grocery store, striding with irritation, compelled by his parents’ orders. Yet for all the drudgery of his errand, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Any excuse to leave the house—to escape his strange parents—was welcome. Entering the store, he pushed back his hoodie and gave himself a quick shake to rid some of the water. The air inside was heavy and sweet, a stark contrast to the freshness outside. Greg thought pungent was more accurate. Navigating the vast fruit and vegetable section, he moved with practiced ease. On his way to the grapes, a massive shelf of overripe bananas caught his eye, marked down for clearance. His parents would be thrilled; he, however, loathed bananas and had no intention of bringing any home. He picked up two packages of grapes—the only thing ...

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Jij Berg

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