Best Audiobook Road Trip Novels & Stories

Be careful on the road. I looked at the message and did not reply. Just then, my phone rang. It was Tristan. I hesitated for a few seconds, then answered. His voice was quiet. "I'm nearby. Can I see you for a moment?" I looked downstairs. He stood beneath a streetlamp, wearing a black coat. The fog blurred half his outline. It reminded me of years ago, when his startup had failed, and he stood downstairs at my place, lost, yet stubborn. Back then, I had run down and hugged him. Now, I only said, "Alright."

A month of finding out I wasn't who I thought I was. I took a deep breath and let my back sink into the seat. The road ahead might be hard. But I had to get there first. The drive from Anatolikos to Dytikos was a never-ending stretch of gray road. It was long, boring, and—thanks to Cain—dead quiet. I had begged him for an audiobook, naming twenty different titles, but he only gave me cold shrugs and grunts. I tried to start a conversation, but I might as well have been talking to the dashboard.

Book Two: Do you know what they say about life? They say it's like a journey. Twisting and turning, never stopping until the final destination is reached. And despite everything that I've been through, I feel like my journey has a lot to show me before my final destination. Many thoughts ran through my head as I drove through the American landscapes silently. My beast, Dahlia hadn't talked to me since I started on this road trip. Not that I minded the silence. I won't deny that while once I had been dying to get my animal, having someone hear and judge my every thought became a little annoying, especially because I was going through so much stuff as well.

“Do I sound bad for wanting to opt out of the shared driving? I just thought it would be more interesting to have someone do all the work. Instead of skimming through maps that one doesn’t understand.” Lois burst out laughing. “Come on, Mark. Don’t be like this. The essence of a road trip and following maps is to get lost, laugh about it, find a new route, and go through it again. That is the point of the trip. It is an adventure. I can assure you you will love every bit of it. Carl knows that and he wants you to have that experience.” I sucked my teeth feeling stupid. “I should have listened better instead of just giving my opinion.”

WINTER I hit the road like I’m on a mission from the universe...just me, my dusty Audi, and a playlist full of songs I’m too stressed to sing along to. She—yes, I’ve named the car “she”—isn’t moving as fast as I’d like, but we’re moving. That’s what matters. An hour in, I feel confident. Three hours in, I feel hungry. By the fifth hour, I’ve officially learned a valuable life lesson:

We packed in our bags and we began the trip and guess what my mom suggested I stay at the back seat with Davis so he does not feel lonely, thanks a lot mom for sending me straight to hell. We started the trip and since I was already sent to hell, I decided to put my air pods and listen to music and maybe catch a little sleep before we get there. I brought out my phone and went straight to Ed Sheeran’s playlist, yep that dude knows how to sing to a lady.

Road Trip The old SUV hummed down the empty highway, windows down, hot summer air rushing in. Three guys had been driving for nine hours straight from college to the coast — a cheap summer road trip to blow off steam before senior year. Alex was behind the wheel, hands loose on the steering wheel, tank top sticking to his sweaty chest. He was the tallest, broad-shouldered, the quiet “straight” one who always organized everything. In the passenger seat sat Ryan — cocky, athletic, loud-mouthed, the guy who never shut up about girls. In the backseat, legs stretched out, was Noah — the quiet, openly bi roommate who had tagged along at the last minute with a knowing little smile.

The Story of Russell and Samantha: NOTE, THIS EPISODE IS TAKEN FROM 'NOT YOUR AVERAGE GEEK', A STORY BY THE SAME AUTHOR CURRENTLY LEFT ON-HOLD. ***** I woke up drenched in sweat. It's almost November, yet California weather is as always; unpredictable.

He let out a loud, ringing laugh, shifting into drive the moment our two blushing passengers settled into the back seat. We cleared the city limits, hitting the wide, sun-bleached lanes of the interstate. The stretch toward La Union was notoriously brutal—the kind of endless, hypnotic highway where you could sleep for four hours and open your eyes to the exact same scenery. To combat the boredom, I reached into my tote bag, pulled out my bright yellow iPod, and snapped the auxiliary cord into the dashboard jack. The heavy, nostalgic chords of John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads" exploded through the car speakers, and in that exact instant, the suffocating heat seemed to vanish under a

The road between the second and third territories was four days. She had not expected to like traveling this much. Not the distances or the camp meals or the particular ache of sleeping on ground that was not a bed. She liked the quality of time the road created. Unscheduled in a way that was different from the three weeks in Obsidian Crown, because on the road the unscheduled time was bounded by motion and destination, and motion with a destination felt purposeful even when the hours inside it were entirely her own.