Dear America Audiobook Novels & Stories

“Mark me as your new mate. I’ll never be a disappointment like she is.” Damian’s eyes darkened with desire as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re everything she isn’t. Perfect. Strong.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and fled inside the house, my breath hitching, my chest aching as if my heart was being ripped apart. The cold stone floor of the hallway felt like ice beneath my bare feet, but I barely noticed. Their voices echoed behind me, their laughter haunting me as I stumbled into the shadows.

On the high-speed train home, the scenery outside passed by in fragments, but I could not focus on any of it. Shanine slept soundly on my shoulder. She had drunk too much the night before and had been rushed onto the train early this morning, leaving her half-dazed. Her hair brushed my neck, carrying the familiar scent of her shampoo. Yet, my heart felt strangely quiet. Almost empty. That happiness had arrived too fiercely, and it had disappeared just as quickly. Phoebe sat across from us, wearing headphones and scrolling through her phone. Occasionally, she looked up, our eyes meeting briefly before she quickly looked away again, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Good evening, Colonel." "Sweet dreams," said Oskar, who then left on his big motorbike. I was tired. I decided to go straight to bed as soon as I found a mattress. However, my hand found a book behind the pillow that said 'DUNA DIARY'.

“I’m delegating as much as I can, but the key decisions rest with me, it will always begin and end with me.” The television goes black. “What the…did you switch it off?” “No,” he laughs softly. “America just lost power.” “The whole of America?” “Yes,” he says and glances at the silent phone. “They’re on their own now.” A minute later, the television flickers and the newscaster is back, looking absolutely petrified. “What’s the point?” she asks, nearly in hysterics. “If no one has any power, what am I even doing here?” She is quiet for a little while, listening to something in her headset. “Oh for the rest of the world? Fuck them. Who is doing this? For all we know it’s the--”

"I shall excuse myself, do enjoy your meal." Natalia went to her room, feeling drained before she could take a shower a tiny note on her bedside table caught her attention. Dear Natalia, Don't be sad, I heard the Americans aren't that bad. -R Natalia felt an emotion she didn't feel in a long time. She was scared. - End Of Chapter 15: Fallen & American -

First meeting. America Alexey came out of the entrance and heard a madman shouting from the fifth floor: "go to hell with your Democracy!". Then Alexey dodged a slipper flying at him, which the madman from the fifth floor threw out of the window. Alexey thought: "After all, indeed! What is Democracy? How do our people understand this word?". He decided to ask ordinary people on the street about what they say every single day in the news reports on TV, as if they want to hypnotize us so that we believe in the reality of its existence. The first thing he did was go to the grocery store to talk to someone about it. He walked over to the merchandiser and spoke to him:

“I wouldn’t mind the company” Hardin smiled then. “Great” He glanced down at the book in his hand then opened it. It took about two minutes to go from admiring Hardin to recognizing the book with him. Too late he was reading it, reading her failure of a prologue. “Wow this is nice and different” Hardin finally said looking up. She raised a brow at him doubtfully. “Nothing like your usual but it’s great, giving some tragic ending vibes though” “Is it that obvious?”

She stumbled, curling into a ball on the ground while covering her ears. “Say your nightly prayers, girly. There is no escape.” The hideous stranger’s voice echoed in her ears, followed by his maniacal laughter. It aggravated the pain in her head, gradually causing Jordane to lose consciousness.

They rolled freely down my cheeks. I wiped them away angrily. "No." I shook my head. "This isn't you." "What happened today?" He remained silent. "What happened at work?" No answer. "Did someone say something?" Nothing. "Did I do something wrong?" "No." "Then tell me why!" My voice echoed through the study. The desperation in it even startled me. "You don't just wake up one day and suddenly become a different person. You don't spend weeks protecting someone, only to tell them to get rid of the very thing you've been protecting."

The automated voice: “The number you have dialed is currently switched off or outside the coverage area…” A broken sound tore from Ethan’s throat. “Please… please pick up, Noah. Just once.” The rain hammered the windshield like impatient fingers demanding answers he didn’t have. He drove through a red light, tires screeching, horns blaring behind him. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered except the hospital lights glowing faintly in the distance like a cruel beacon. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight his knuckles had gone bone-white. The words slipped out before he could stop them, raw and jagged.