Stop Hushing Sound Novels & Stories

When I lay dreaming of what my life could have been if I was human and not a hybrid, it always ends the same way, stop wishing for something impossible Laya. I am a hybrid, my yellow eyes a dead giveaway, and in the eyes of humans we are the virus that nearly destroyed the world.

In the decaying super-city of Aethelgard, a desperate gamer accepts a mysterious beta-test offer to escape poverty. But when he discovers his in-game "assassination missions" are actually controlling lethal androids to eliminate the government’s political rivals, he must hack the system from the inside to stop a silent coup before his physical body is deleted.

Death has a mate - a teenage girl, the Grim Reaper's Bride. All Callie has known is that someone watches her in the woods - Samael, the Grim Reaper. Drawn into his intoxicating web of desires, secrets, and shadows, and hating him with a burning passion - can these two unlikely heroes stop the Apocalypse? Or will Samael start it for love?

Dan was only after a goal which is to get back all his mother inlaw stole from him. He would stop at nothing until he gets it, even when it involves killing his wife who was remarrying after betraying him, and then using her younger sister as a tool of Revenge under a hidden identity

Camilla finds her husband cheating on her with her stepsister, after which they brutally murder her. She is granted another chance at life but doesn’t expect to also get a second chance mate, who is not just any werewolf but a Lycan, who will stop at nothing to make her his.

She lives on her own terms. He’s living on borrowed time. Neither of them planned on falling—especially not for each other. Blue has made a life out of leaving. Her summer is all dusty boots, soft sunsets, and smoky guitar covers shared with millions of followers from the back of her boho van. Portland was supposed to be a quick visit—just her best friend, a short-term gig harvesting,, and a little time to breathe.But then there’s Teddy.He’s the brooding, blue-eyed lead singer of No Name, the local grunge band with a sound that hits like a bruise and a smile that makes her forget how to breathe. He’s wild onstage and guarded off of it, carrying secrets behind that slow-burning gaze. He’s everything she never wanted: complicated, magnetic, dangerous in a way that feels too good to ignore.What starts as stolen glances and flirtation under stage lights turns into something hotter, deeper, harder to walk away from.They come from different worlds—but under the heat of a summer that feels endless, they collide in all the wrong ways that somehow feel right.And the only thing harder than falling for him… is trusting he won’t break her.

In a world slowly being erased, the quiet is the killer. Ethan Ashworth’s life ended the day the Silence touched him, leaving a smooth, numb patch on his skin and a ghost where his memories used to be. He is one of the Marked—doomed to be hollowed out, unless the hunters of Die Jägerfind him first. His only hope is the Library, a secret sanctuary for those the Silence hasn’t yet consumed. There, he meets Lorenzo Cavalli, a former soldier marked not by emptiness, but by a rage that refuses to be silenced. Their connection is immediate, volatile, and unwanted—a psychic bond forged in shared terror that screams against the quiet. It’s also the one thing the all-consuming Silence cannot stomach. Their bond isn't just a link; it’s a weapon. A wrong note in a world demanding perfect silence. On the run from relentless hunters and a creeping nothingness that eats sound, memory, and soul, Ethan and Lorenzo discover a terrible truth: the Silence isn't random. It's a hunger. And it’s gathering, preparing to swallow the world whole. Their only chance is to turn their unwanted connection into a blade, and walk into the heart of the consuming quiet. To kill a god of silence, you don’t fight with a shout. You fight with a scream that is also a love song.

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

Grandma lay bedridden, her dementia taking hold as she repeated Scarlett Hayes's name over and over. Tears streamed down my face as I dialed my wife's number. When she picked up, Scarlett sounded irritated. She said she was working late tonight and would call me back when she was free. I could clearly hear the sound of a man's laughter in the background. The moment I hung up, Grandma gasped sharply. She called out my wife's name. It was her last breath. While I sat drowning in grief, Scarlett's male best friend Chase Morrison posted a video update, geotagged at a couples' hotel. In the video, their fingers were laced together. The woman's arm bore a distinctive black mole I recognized instantly. The caption read: "When two hearts become one, why care what anyone else thinks?" In that moment, my heart turned to ash. I gritted my teeth and left a comment. "Let's file for divorce tomorrow. Then you two can be together openly and legally. You'll even save on the hotel fees. Win-win, right?"

I sell handmade fortune cookies in the park. Each one costs $10,000, yet every day, people fight to buy them. That’s because what I sell are fertility fortune cookies. Eat one, and you can get pregnant instantly. You can even choose what kind of child you want. Slip in a double-yolk charm, and you’ll have twins. Seal in a perfect test paper, and your child will be a genius. A spayed female dog ate one and ended up pregnant with six puppies. Someone buried a fortune cookie beneath a withered tree, and by the next day, it had burst into full bloom. I sell fortune cookies to both women and men—anyone who wants to get pregnant. I turn no one away. Even animals, if they so much as make a sound, I’ll feed them. Until one day, a young woman, Mara Kessler, who had been standing in line from dawn until dusk, finally stepped forward and timidly said she wanted to buy a fortune cookie. I only took one look at her, then staggered back in terror. "I can’t sell to you. Leave. Now."