Does Audiobook Count As Reading Novels & Stories

I am the wife of Anthony Caster, don of the mafia family in New York. When I was nine months pregnant, he brought a woman named Evelyn Graves into the manor, claiming she’d saved his life. That was the day my nightmare began. She put something in my food. Next thing I knew, I was doubled over in pain. And she had the nerve to blame it on me—said I was being reckless with what I ate. She lost her footing and fell down the stairs, but she told everyone I was the one who shoved her. Every day, she’d cry in front of Anthony about how saving him had left her wounded and unable to bear children, how seeing a pregnant woman broke her heart. But the moment she turned to me, the tears were gone, replaced by a cold smile. “As long as I’m here,” she whispered, “your babies will never be born.” Anthony was convinced I was jealous of her. He locked me away in the abandoned attic of the manor and said, “Reflect on your actions and stop bullying Evelyn.” On the first day they shut me in, the contractions began. I screamed, I begged, I banged on the door. The butler heard me and went to inform Anthony. He said, “Amelia, your due date is three days away. Stop putting on an act. Three days in a snowstorm and you came out fine. This? You can handle this.” On the second day, my water broke. I screamed at the top of my lungs, my fingernails digging into the cracks of the wall, blood spilling all over the floor. The butler went to Anthony again. Evelyn said, “Anthony, she’s making all that noise because she wants you to feel sorry for her and let her out. If you give in now, she’ll only grow more reckless later.” He believed her. On the third day, I stopped screaming. Anthony thought I had finally learned my lesson, unaware that I had already died from the difficult labor. When he finally opened that door, all he would find was my rotting, putrid body.

Little Jean contracted AIDS from a human woman. What's worse? She gave it to him intentionally. As if that wasn't enough, she reintroduced herself in my mate's life as his new love. Logan loved her to bits because she was young and talented. He didn't care if she was human. It has been hell ever since. I have been secretly been bullied by Leah, the human girl, since she won Logan's heart. While I endured all the bullying in hopes of winning hearts, no one wanted to treat my son, the future heir of the Waterstone pack. It was a shame. But I will be leaving everything behind to start anew. I was born a healer, never got the chance to blossom. And I shall...with all my determination. Because I have to treat my sick son. (THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL. I DID NOT FIND THE CURE FOR AIDS GUYS, PLEASE DON'T COME FOR ME)

My wife and I were both liars. She lied to me 99 times. "I'll forget all about him, I swear." That man was her first love. She never did forget about him. I only lied to her one time. To get her to sign the divorce papers. Time came to the final day of the cooling-off period. Three hours before it was up, I packed up all my stuff and bought a flight ticket to another country. Two hours before it was up, I cut up all my photos that had her in it, leaving only myself. One hour before it was up, I placed the divorce papers on the table. When she saw the papers, they drove her mad.

My fiancée, Rachel Evans, was in a car accident before our wedding and had just woken up when I rushed over to the hospital. The bridesmaids surrounded her. "Rachel, you're finally awake! Your fiancé, Nicholas Shaw, was so worried when he heard you were in a car accident that he cried!" said one of them. "Now the wedding will have to be postponed." "Who's Nicholas Shaw?" Rachel asked with a frown. "Where's my boyfriend? Where's Jordan?" A hush fell in the ward as soon as those words fell. My face was pale as I stood in the doorway, for I knew very well who she was referring to. She was talking about Jordan Baxter, her first love.

When I was born, the nurse handed me over to my parents, and the smiles on their faces instantly vanished. Hovering over their son's smooth head was a line of numbers that no one else could see. 6570 days. It was exactly 18 years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse thought they were just nervous first-time parents, but my parents knew the truth. That number was my lifespan. While everyone else in the delivery room was celebrating a new life, my parents were staring at my death. For the next 18 years, I was the most precious person in the family. No matter how poor we were, the eggs were always mine, the new clothes were always mine, and the meat was always mine. My younger sister could only look on enviously. My parents often told her, "Let your brother have it. He doesn't have much time left." I was well-behaved from a young age, never causing trouble, quietly waiting to die. On my 18th birthday, I blew out the candles and said a sincere goodbye to the world. The next day, my parents and sister, dressed in black clothes, walked into my room with swollen eyes. I rubbed my eyes, smiled at them, and said, "Good morning." The air froze. The sadness on their faces slowly turned into astonishment, then coldness.

John Handful’s first client is a member of the local Polish community wanted by the police for the disappearance of his pregnant wife. A new miracle cancer drug is stolen from a pharmaceutical complex located on a shingle spit, just off the Suffolk coast. A wealthy local financier is blackmailed, and a ripple of malice spreads across the village of Oxmarket. Each household of a cul-de-sac have a secret that could point to them being the murderer of a man found shot dead in his bedroom.A perplexing case unfolds with the revelation of secret lovers, flowers from the garden and a death that is not as it appears.John Handful finds himself enmeshed in a violent, multi-layered plot at a luxury hotel on a remote island. A man kills himself despite receiving the good news that his lover’s husband has agreed to a divorce.A woman is witnessed shooting herself by her husband even though she had already been dead several hours.A man has been found shot through the head in a locked room with suicide well and truly ruled out. How did he die?Severed limbs in a concrete block, leads, John Handful to believe that a cold calculated killer with a thirst for revenge is on the loose. Ten cases, one connection. What is it?

Learning who the countess is may be one thing. But falling in love with her brings so much more. With people begging to be part of the harem, it is only a matter of time before Wyatt discovers what is behind the enchantress known as the Countess, and why people are dying, literally, to be part of her world.

All Beau Anderson wants is one night of passion. One night to forget what she had become. Dominic Vasiliy, King of the Underworld. Ruthless, fearless, dominating, and arrogant. He never expected that one night of passion will change him forever. He fell and he fell hard. Mature Content 18+ Romance/Action

You’re not supposed to want this.But you will. Again and again.Twenty stories. Zero shame. From secret stepbrothers to forbidden rituals, from anonymous strangers to supernatural seductions—CRAVE delivers every fantasy you never dared speak aloud. MM, FF, MF, ménage, Omegaverse, and more—raw, relentless, and unapologetically hot.

Introduction Scarlett O'Hara, that's her name, 26 years old, a single mother of two kids (twins). Poor and manages to earn a living to take care of her twins together with her her best friend. She finally gets a job at a very big company after years of struggling to get one only to find out the CEO is her EX, the father of her twins. He hates her and he will make her pay, and by that, she has to quench his sexual desires. Will she succumb to this? Scarlett's POV "Since you couldn't help but take a sneaky peep at it, how about I show you a proper view of it and perhaps help you remember how it tastes," He said and my heart skipped a bit and before I could blink, his d1ck was hanging right before my face. "Suck it!" He said in an authoritative voice.