Dreamland Audiobook Novels & Stories

Lawrence pressed his forehead against mine to catch a breath. "If I had known you were lying awake," he began. "You would have stayed home," I finished, smiling despite myself trembling for wanting him more. My body ached for him, I wanted all of him for myself. Lawrence is my man, my dream man. The one I have been wanting to be with ever since that time I first cleaned the Magnolia resort. And even when he cast us out from our home, I had never stopped dreaming of him. "Exactly." He looked at me as if reading my thoughts and then he kissed the corner of my mouth. "And before you say anything about not being a thing that needs saving, don't argue with me. Let me be foolish for once, sweethea

He had some work, so he spared me for some time and I had the opportunity for the first time in days to sleep soundly. That night, in my dream, the same mysterious man visited me in the garden of Eden. “Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” I asked him, again. “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the man. “Well, I want to get to a place where I can find a cure to heal my brother.” “If you’re seeking a cure for madness, then maybe you ought to visit Madland.” “Sir, I’ve heard of a Wonderland, but never of a Madland!”

Nobody in my memory matched him at all. Then one night, after yet another late shift, I was scrolling through my phone like a zombie when a pop-up appeared out of nowhere. It had a cheap glittering border, the whole nine yards, a classic bottom-of-the-barrel web ad. It was for some app I had never heard of called Astra. I was about to close it when my finger froze in midair for three full seconds. The model on the landing page looked exactly like the man from my dreams. I could not bring myself to close it. Instead, I kept reading.

Lyra — Age 6 (Almost Seven) Blackwood Pack Territory, Alaska Lyra stopped pretending she couldn’t hear him. That was the first change. The second was admitting—at least to herself—that he was real. At six, nearly seven, she already knew the difference between a fleeting daydream and something that lingered. Something that answered. Something that waited. And he—wherever “he” was—always waited. Her dreams still carried him at night: smoky caves lit by glinting torchlight, wings unfurled beneath a sky of violet stars. But now—he came during the day, too. Not whole, not in the glory of those midnight visions, but in fragmentary gifts:

The young Dreamer looked embarrassed. “Nothing.” The boy glanced at the little stars in the sand. “They don't look like nothing.” The Dreamer hesitated. Then he whispered: “I think they're stories.” The boy smiled wider. “Then tell me one.” The memory ended. Ama gasped. The quiet voice beyond the door spoke again. He always wanted someone to listen. The First Dreamer finally answered. And you always wanted one more story. A strange warmth passed between the two voices. Not anger.

I uttered, “It's too small. It would be better for me if I sleep there.” “There's no way I'm letting you sleep there. My mother would be turning in her grave.” He smiled. Before I could say anything, he patted me softly on my head. I watched him leave the window and walk straight to the bathroom. A deep sigh escaped my lips. I pounced on the bed—exhausted. When Damon got out, he laid on the sofa as he scanned his phone for any new updates on the whereabouts of the evil organisation. I was already fast asleep in Dreamland. I felt like I was floating around a cloud. It was fun—gliding and soaring through the sky. I felt free. Suddenly, the bright clouds turned gray and I started falling. I clo

Was this a dream or reality? “I will stay, sweetheart. The doctor’s here.” Iris released him reluctantly. She could sense the doctor checking her and injecting her with a sedative. The dream ended as she went into a deep slumber. When she opened her eyes, it was evening, and there was no sign of Maddox anywhere. He had gone with the dream. Only the promise he had made in her dream replayed in her mind like a broken record. It wasn’t surprising. Dreams were never meant to materialize- especially the reckless ones. Maddox was a dream, and he could never be hers in this life.

When she woke up from her stupor the next morning, the sun was shining brightly outside her window, and she found a bunch of dew-covered lilies on the front of her door. The wind blew gently, carrying away every last bit of her horrible memories. Melanie thought that it was really time for her to start all over again. Farewell, Raymond Johnson.

Damian croons. He scoops me up into his arms and carries me back the way he came. As we move through the dreamland, the horrible forest of my nightmare slowly transforms. Gone is the blood and horror, the unwelcoming darkness that tormented me so terribly. It’s gradually replaced by the glittering woodland of our dream dates, and I feel myself changing too. No longer an injured, frightened little girl, but the woman I am today. I don’t know how long it takes, but Damian carries me all the way to our dream bed and climbs on, pulling me into his lap, “There now. I’ve got you, baby. It’s Over.

AUDREY POV. That night, after everything, as I finally lay down to sleep, my mind couldn't seem to settle. The day’s events replayed over and over, but it wasn't long before exhaustion took over, pulling me into a deep slumber. The dream came again. The one I’d had so many times before. It was always the same—gentle, comforting. A man’s voice, low and warm, calling me beautiful names, followed by a woman’s melodic tone, soft but so loving, calling me something sweet, something precious. Their words were a lullaby, one I never wanted to wake from.