How Much Does An Audiobook Reader Make Novels & Stories

When my family was at its poorest, a wealthy family found me and claimed that I was their real daughter. The school heartthrob I crushed on? He was my fiancé all along! Still reeling from all these surprises, a mysterious message suddenly popped up in front of me. "This is where everything changes. The cannon fodder is taken home by the female lead's parents, forced to drop out of school, and then gets pregnant by her fiancé. In the end, everyone thinks she's a harbringer of misfortune, and she's beaten to death." My hand froze as I held the paternity test results. My mom's eyes filled with tears as she took the report from me. "My poor child, you've suffered enough all these years! Don't worry. Just come home with us and rest. You're our daughter now. The family business is enough for you to live comfortably forever. You don't even need to take the SAT if you don't want to." The school heartthrob lowered his head and whispered sensually into my ear, "Listen to me, Lucia. Studying is hard. I'll take care of you from now on."

I start dating Samuel Nelson, who's known for being a playboy. Everyone thinks I'm hopelessly in love with him. When he skips class to fight, I take notes for him. When he flirts with others, I cover for him. I spent three years as the pushover who grovels at his feet. I pour my heart and soul into helping him get into a top college, but just before the semester starts, he dumps me. He says haughtily, "I know you've liked me for a long time, but you always have your head buried in books. Compared to Anna, you're far too dull and uptight. "Let's break up. I want to be with Anna instead." Everyone waits to see me have an emotional meltdown. However, I simply check the 50 million that has been transferred to my bank account and reply earnestly, "Sure. I wish you two the best." No one knows that I only devoted myself fully to being Samuel's girlfriend because his mother offered me far too much money to refuse. Now that I have the money, even if he didn't dump me, I would've dumped him myself.

I was only eleven when my life changed. My parents were gone, and my innocence was taken away. I grew up in a world where danger wore a suit and love felt like power. I learned to guard myself. But nothing prepared me for him, Lorenzo Vitalio. He is my guardian’s stepbrother. He watched me grow up. He is the man I shouldn’t want. Yet he is the only one I do. He’s 32, and I’m 20. The age difference is wrong. The feelings? Right—so painfully right that it hurts. I’ve loved him for as long as I’ve known what love is. But to him, I was just the girl he had to protect, not the woman he could claim. So I did what any heartbroken girl would do—I pushed him away. I made him notice me. I broke rules, crossed boundaries, and opened up the cracks in both of us. Just when I thought I’d finally lost him, he came back. Now the question is, can love survive the burden of secrets, danger, and years of denial? Or am I doomed to suffer for a man who knows how to protect but not how to love? This is the story of Evelyn Rose and Lorenzo Vitalio. A love too forbidden to begin. Too deep to end. And far too reckless to ignore.

After helping my husband build his business from the ground up, I settled into life as a full-time housewife. When our daughter's tenth birthday approached, I planned to host a grand celebration for her. I booked a party that cost 2 thousand dollars per table. But when I swiped my card at the hotel, the staff gave me a strange look. "Mrs. Richmond, this card doesn't even have fifty dollars in it to charge." Flushed with embarrassment, I went home to confront my husband. He wore an apologetic expression. "Lately, the company's been competing for contracts. The new government official is insatiably greedy, and I've had to spend a lot under the table to smooth things over. Once the funds turn around, I'll make sure our daughter gets the grand birthday she deserves." I gave him a gentle, understanding smile—but as soon as I turned away, I began tallying our assets. Because that so-called "new government official" was none other than my father. And in his office, there hadn't been any bids or contracts at all. Now I intended to find out exactly where my husband had spent all our money.

The Horror Game invaded the world. Real players entered the game, and their every move would be broadcast live. My adopted son shoved me—an eighty-eight-year-old woman—straight into a deadly dungeon to save his own skin. One of the comments in the live stream predicted: [What? They’re tossing in such an elderly woman? No way she’s gonna survive the first night!] On the first night, a frost-bitten ghost exhaled icy breath in my face. I shrugged off my thick floral coat, feeling sorry for her. “You poor thing! You must be freezing. Listen to me and bundle up quickly!” The second night, a starving ghost lunged at me with blood dripping down his chin. I sniffed the air, then found a jar of pickled cabbage. “Look at how skinny you are! Come on, let me get you something hot to eat.” On the final day, the last surviving players tied me up, desperate to steal the one ticket to escape. However, before they could touch me, every ghost in the dungeon came storming out, cleavers and rolling pins in hand. “Touch her, and you’re dead meat!”

After the college entrance exams ended, I got drunk, pinned the school genius against the wall, and confessed to him. When I opened my eyes again, I had somehow jumped ten years into the future. Not only was I married to the guy I once had a crush on, we even had a son together. A seven-year anniversary cake sat on the table, and my heart nearly burst with happiness. Then my son tricked me into a dark storage room. "Today is Mandy's birthday! I won't let you bother Dad!" "I'm protecting Dad and Mandy's happiness!" Separated by a single wall, I suddenly realized something. My husband did not love me. And neither did my son. By the time the servants finally let me out, I beat my son so hard he burst into tears. "You evil woman! How dare you hit me! I'm telling Dad to divorce you!" I locked him back inside the room and let out a cold laugh. "Fine. Divorce it is. "Who says I care about either of you?"

I picked up the top university admission slot that the real heir didn't want. Horace Clark had gone crazy for love. He ran off with a failing student and dropped out, smashing the perfect life he had been handed. Meanwhile, I carried the label of an impostor who stole someone else's place. Step by step, I clawed my way up, became a rising name in the business world, and even married his childhood sweetheart. At the peak of my life, I opened my eyes again and found myself back in senior year, on the day we were filling out our college applications. And floating in front of me were lines of strange comments. [Brian, the fake heir, is a straight-up thief. He stole the life that was supposed to belong to the real heir, Horace!] [In his last life, the real heir completely lost his head over love. He dropped out of school, ran off with that rebellious troublemaker to start a business, and even handed his childhood fiancée to someone else. What a disaster. The guy was a total idiot!] [Good thing he gets a redo this time. The real heir has finally woken up. Now I really wanna see how the fake heir who stole someone else's life ends up crashing and burning.] I watched the comments quietly and sneered. Hate to break it to them, but the road I walked was carved out with my own hands. Even if Horace were reborn a hundred times, he still wouldn't be able to stop me from reaching the top and claiming my glory.

What if the only way to survive is to become exactly what they made you? Arden Steele was a good person. She trusted the two people closest to her with everything, including her life. Her husband and stepsister took her money, her health, and eventually her life. She died believing it was just bad luck. Then she woke up three years earlier. This time, Arden isn't being good. She's being ruthless. She knows every betrayal that's coming and she's decided that if she can't stop fate's events, she'll damn well decide who they happen to. Her cheating husband? Her scheming sister? They wanted a victim. They're getting a villain instead. The only problem is Jett Mercer. Stupidly rich, annoyingly perceptive, and completely unable to leave her alone. He's turning into something that scares her more than her enemies do, because she can plan around hatred. She's not so sure she can plan around love. She came back to burn everything down. She just didn't expect to feel something warm in the middle of all that fire.

My twin sister, Audrey Goodwin, was obsessed with romance novels about rich heirs. All she wanted was to marry into money and live like some perfect socialite. She set her sights on the silver-spoon scion in Jezelton, Michael Strickland, who'd been blind after a car accident. Audrey got close by becoming his private nurse. But she got tired of the work really quickly. So, she asked me to cover for her. When Michael finally got his eyesight back and held a huge celebration, Audrey decided to drug him so she could slide right into the role of Mrs. Strickland. I didn't stop her this time. I even went as far as booking her a luxury suite so she could carry out her plan. In my last life, I had begged Audrey not to go through with it. I told her romance novels weren't real life, and guys like Michael were way too powerful to mess with. She had actually listened and canceled the plan. But a little while later, the news broke: Michael secretly got married. It turned out that he'd been with someone else that very night. Just like that, Audrey's big fantasy was gone. She blamed me for ruining her "dream". My parents blamed me as well; they beat me and yelled at me, saying Audrey couldn't marry Michael now because of me. One night, Audrey snapped. She came into my room with a hammer and beat me to death. Now, I had been given another chance. I woke up right on the night of Michael's recovery party.

On the day of Zephyr’s art exhibition, I saw people stand around a portrait of myself. My cheeks were flushed, and I was bare. My posture was the one we used in bed last week for fun. Zephyr even got the mole on my chest right. As people stared at me mockingly, I demanded, “Why did you do this to me?” He was unbothered. “It’s not as if I asked you to sleep with someone else.” But he did let people see how I looked when I was having an intimate moment with my own boyfriend! “It’s just a painting. Why are you being so petty?” I was stunned by the mockery in Zephyr’s gaze. Then, I called my assistant. “I’m attending the international art festival as the organizer.”