Silent Spring Audiobook Novels & Stories

"You really want me to fuck you?" he asked, continuing to torment my pussy with the tip of his shaft. "Yes… please," I begged, shamelessly and desperately. "Fuck me maddeningly," I moaned. "Fuck me until I can’t use my legs anymore." ** All I wanted was a one-night stand with a random guy, just to get back at my boyfriend, who had insulted me for never being able to feel anything with him. So, I left Brooklyn with my best friend, Ashley, to spend spring break in Cabo. The deal was simple: have fun like a normal young adult and hook up with any guy... just to prove a point. I ended up in the bed of a man with the most mesmerizing eyes I’d ever seen—a man I knew absolutely nothing about. He pleased me in ways I didn’t think were possible. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered brush of his hands against my skin ignited a hunger I never knew I had. But when I woke up the next morning, the stranger was gone. I thought it was just a forgotten one-night stand, someone I’d never see again. Until I found out he was my new statistics professor. It was supposed to be one meaningless night, but now I crave him in ways I never knew were possible. Even knowing he could be my downfall, I still want him. Still crave him. Still want him to ruin me in whatever way he desires.

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

I was a human girl raised in turns by vampires, elves, and werewolves. To repay them, I signed a three-year repayment contract with all three races, dividing my time and service among their leaders. When the vampire count was weakened by sunlight, I cut open my wrist and let him drink my blood. When the elven prince's Tree of Life began to wither, I stepped into the forbidden forest and traded ten years of my life with a witch in exchange for spring water that restored the tree to full vitality. When the werewolf Alpha's wolf spirit grew restless, I searched for the herbs that could soothe him. I always knew my place, and I never crossed the line. The vampire count sneered at me. "Leah, you're more obedient than the blood servants I keep. The moment I summon you, you offer your wrist on your own." The elven prince warned coldly, "This is only a transaction. Once the Tree of Life recovers, you will leave as agreed. Don't imagine I would ever make an exception for you." The werewolf Alpha tossed a check at my feet. "This is your contract fee for the next three years. It's enough to last you a lifetime. Don't forget this. You haven't been marked, so don't overstep." Later, I finally repaid everything and prepared to return to the human world. The vampire count was willing to stand under the burning sun just to make me stay. The elven prince threatened to destroy the Tree of Life if I left. The werewolf Alpha dropped to one knee and presented me with the Luna's crown. In unison, they said, "You're not allowed to marry anyone else."

Ernest West left the courtroom with wings on his feet. Leaving Don James was, in Ernest's opinion, the best thing he had ever done for himself. No more tense silences. No more Don's silent, smothering adoration. Ernest had been released. Three years have passed since then. Now, what once was the best choice has turned into a noose around their necks. There is a sinister provision buried within the small print of the divorce papers that Ernest's attorney overlooked; they are obligated to live together and manage the small beach hotel that they used to own as a couple for an entire year. Thus, Ernest finds himself back amid the groaning wooden boards and salty panes of glass within the walls of where their love once withered away. However, Don is no longer the same weak and longing man that Ernest abandoned. He now stands as an intimidating pillar of cold indifference, forged by the stony resolve and lack of concern. Not even a passing glance comes from Don’s green eyes, which regard Ernest with only polite reserve. A year of closeness. A year of unresolved tension. A year of dealing with each and every lie that Ernest tried to bury beneath "irreconcilable differences." In the beginning, the plan is a silent battle—appointments stuck to the fridge, dinners taken in different corners of the house. Yet, there’s something about closeness that reveals the whole truth. Ernest discovers the picture albums that Don never discarded. He listens to telephone conversations in the dead of night that reveal the loneliness he feels himself. And gradually, painfully, he discovers that the greatest error made wasn’t the separation. It was letting Don leave.

When Éric brings home a young woman with a disturbing look, he tells his wife, Clara, that she is his distant cousin coming to stay with them temporarily. Clara, suspicious, reluctantly accepts this intrusive presence in their home. But very quickly, the exchanged glances, the unexplained absences, and the silent tensions sow doubt. Because this "cousin" is not one… she is Éric's mistress. Between lies, manipulations, and forbidden passion, Clara's home becomes the stage for a betrayal orchestrated under her own roof. How far will Éric go to protect his secret? And what will happen when Clara discovers the truth?

Alexa. Queen bee. Popular. And above all, secretly mischievous. Devon. Silent rebel. Bike guy. Bad boy When these two cross paths, will sparks ignite, or will thunders roar? When Alexa pranks her boyfriend as revenge for forgetting their date night, everything seems to be fun, except that she pink spray painted the wrong bike. Turns out, it's the school's new student. A handsome devil too, that's seriously pissed with her. When their game of who intimidates who turns into more, Alexa isn't sure if she can trust him with her heart.

Aria Laurent was supposed to be the ghost in the Devereaux estate—a convenient substitute for a sister who fled, a nameless bride in a house built on secrets. But in the cold, suffocating grip of Luca Devereaux’s world, being invisible is no longer an option. Bound by a forced marriage and watched by eyes that never blink, Aria must navigate power and silent threats. In this house, walls have ears, and the man she calls husband is a shadow she can’t escape. As the line between protection and possession blurs, Aria discovers that the darkest secrets aren’t hidden in the cellar, they’re reflected in the eyes of the man who owns her.

Shanra Croft joined the Black Assassin's Squad so she can find the killer who murdered her whole family. She became the best assassin and is well-known as "Silent Assassin." It's because all of her victims died silently and in a peaceful way. She meets her childhood crush, Craig De Silva, who is now a police team captain and has a mission to capture her alive. What if Craig discovers that she is the assassin that he'd been looking for? And what if she discovers that the murderer she'd been looking for a long time is just beside her and that person is the one she trusted the most?

Shamsiya, a conservative, unconfident, and optimistic woman, juggles part-time jobs to support her husband of 2 years in chasing his singing career. Silent and submissive to his every abuse, the betrayal of being sold like a used property shatters her world and throws her into the dark and brutal world of supernatural beings. In the middle of savagery and brutality, how will a fragile, seemingly ordinary, woman survive? ------------------------------------------------------------- Follow me on my socials! Early releases on Patreon, sneak peeks on Instagram, fun activities, contests, and chats on discord. Patreon: patreon.com/Raising_Moon Discord: https://discord.gg/6kEsGuaqfg @ raising_moon#3913 Instagram: @ raising__moon Follow any of my socials to connect with me!

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.