Good To Great Free Audiobook Novels & Stories

On our wedding day, Carter Hall's father took his own life in our new home. He left a suicide note, blaming me for his death. From that day forward, Carter despised me to the core. He said, "Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life." Eventually, just as he wished, I wandered the streets, mute and half-insane, living a life worse than a stray dog. But then, he regretted it.

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.

By the third year of my marriage to Daniel Hawthorne, the war had already taken more than it ever returned, and this time it took his younger brother, Thomas Hawthorne. My sister-in-law, Eleanor, collapsed, and in the weeks that followed she tried to follow her husband into death— once with sleeping pills, once by the river beyond the officers’ quarters— only to be dragged back both times, each time clinging to me afterward as though I were the last thing keeping her grounded. I stayed with her, wiped her tears, and whispered that Thomas would want her to live, until the day she received the test results confirming she was three months pregnant, and the grief of losing her husband was slowly softened by the arrival of new life. I smiled too, believing grief had finally loosened its grip. That night, holding my own pregnancy test in my hand and thinking it was finally time to tell Daniel, I passed the study and heard his friend say quietly, “She’s carrying your child. You convinced the doctors to adjust the timeline so everyone would believe the baby belonged to your brother. Aren’t you afraid Margaret will find out?” Daniel didn’t hesitate. “She won’t,” he said calmly. “She loves me. She wouldn’t leave. I won’t let her know.” I didn’t step inside. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I opened the letter I had received weeks earlier— an official deployment order from the international medical corps, assigning me to a frontline war zone— and tapped Accept.

“Little wolf,” he murmured, “tell me where that son of a bitch touched you.” I tensed, then frowned in confusion. “Wh–what do you mean?” His expression darkened when I asked. “I want every place he touches to remember only me, because you are my mate. And no one has the right to touch you.” *** On the night of her fifth anniversary, Natalia Russo thought she would be cherished. Instead, she was betrayed, stabbed, and left to die by her very own mate and her stepsister. But death wasn’t the end. She wakes up five years in the past, a day before her wedding; alive, unbroken, and no longer the fool they once used. This time, she refuses to love blindly. She rejects her mate, shatters their plans, and begins a ruthless game of revenge. But what happens when she starts falling for the Alpha who made her childhood miserable…her worst bully who has a secret of his own. And why does her heart race whenever he’s near?

I've been dating the country's most eligible bachelor for two years. My base salary is $2 million, with bonuses based on performance. Holding hands costs $10,000, putting an arm around his waist is $20,000, and a kiss on the lips is a bit pricier at $50,000. As for certain bedroom activities, well, those come with a whole different price tag. Brad is fair-skinned and handsome, appearing only once a month – he's practically a walking Tiffany's diamond. Life is so sweet, it's easy to get complacent if you're not careful. One night, a DM popped up on Instagram from a stranger. "If you trust me, check your boyfriend's phone." "?" "I'm his girlfriend." "Am I the third party or are you the third party?" "You're third, I'm fourth." "Let's meet and talk details."

My company hosts an appreciation gala to thank long-time clients. I go to the company's cold storage to retrieve the batch of wine just flown in from overseas when a stream of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "That was close! She almost caught Daisy covered in red wine and looking all seductive. Good thing Tristan reacted fast and hid her in the freezer." "Can Scarlett just leave already? Look how cold Daisy and Tristan are. They are shivering. What if they catch a cold?" I pause mid-step, my gaze landing on the freezer behind me. Red wine is dripping out, and a piece of fabric is caught in the door. On it, I see the motif I personally sew onto my fiancé's clothes. Just then, the comments appear again. "Tristan plays it cool, claiming he is all about platonic love and staying chaste for Daisy. What a touching romance!" I smirked coldly. The platonic act is fake. The truth is he's cheating on me. Without a word, I turn around and toss the clothes they leave on the floor into the trash. Then, I lock the cold storage door and call the boss, who is in the middle of giving a speech. I exclaim over the phone, "A thief broke into the company! I locked them in the cold storage. Please bring some men and come over quickly!"

I died on my wedding night. Then I woke up—with revenge in my veins and my killer’s uncle in my bed. Betrayed by my husband and murdered by the man I once loved, I get a second chance—reborn one year before my death. This time, I’m done playing nice. I crash my own engagement by announcing an affair with the one man my ex fears: his powerful, brooding billionaire uncle. But what started as a game of revenge spirals into something dangerously real… and I’m carrying his child. Lies. Lust. Loyalty twisted beyond recognition. This time, I’m rewriting the rules—starting with my last name.

Don Ettore Vitale's lover, Viola Serra, and I are abducted at the same time. When it's time for Ettore to make his choice, he doesn't hesitate to choose Viola despite always doting on me all the time. "Larissa, Viola can't take this. She's too fragile. Once this is over, I'll definitely make it up to you." "If you choose her, I'll hate you forever!" He remains silent for a moment before whisking Viola away in his arms. I just keep laughing till tears spill down my cheeks. Some time later, I nestle into Ettore's arch-nemesis, Vittorio Romano's arms while smiling at the former. But he keeps begging me to return to him like an absolute lunatic.

On Christmas Day, I put on a reindeer-themed lingerie set, ready to spend an unforgettable night with my CEO boyfriend. Noah Levine eagerly unbuttons my top, kissing my body with feverish intensity. Just then, his phone rings. He answers impatiently. "What is it?" A sweet voice comes through from the other end, speaking in Farylian. "Noah, what time are you coming tonight? I have a Christmas present for you." Hearing those words, my eyes fly wide open. That woman is my younger sister, Heidi Miller. Noah's expression turns serious, like he's handling a work call. He responds in Farylian. "What present?" The voice on the other end laughs softly. "The present is me, wrapped head to toe in red ribbon. Come over and help me unwrap it. I can't wait anymore." That night, Noah doesn't touch me. He helps me dress, kissing my cheek with reluctance. "Work call. Something urgent at the company I need to handle. We'll pick this up another time. "Remember to wear this outfit next time, though. It's very enticing." His lie sounds calm and natural. He clearly assumes I don't understand, but I know Farylian. I hear everything crystal clear. I pretend to nod calmly. After he leaves, I accept the company's overseas assignment. In three days, I'll vanish completely from his world.

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.