Audiobook Washed Ashore Bride
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
washed ashore. Bride Miss Miss, can you hear me? Miss Thomas spoke as he leaned over the young woman laying on the beach. Except for the mascara that ran down her tear stained face. She was flawless. She looked like a mermaid that had washed up on his beach. Her dress was white and done in the popular Mermaid style. Judging from the veil that was still pinned to the top of her curls, he figured out that the dress was a wedding dress. Her lips were chapped, and she showed signs of severe dehydration. Where did she come from? He thought to himself. What did Michael Dunn now? He wondered as he scanned the horizon, looking for a boat. Finding no boat, he turned back to the woman lying on the beach. Where was Michael? The woman began to stir. She was alive. He leaned back over her and placed his hand on her bare shoulder. Miss, your pleaded. Can you hear me? Miss? Heather slowly opened her eyes. Someone was leaning over her and gently shaking her shoulder. She managed to speak. Who Who Who are you? She finally managed to squeak out through her dry lips and parched throat. The question should be. Who are you? But you probably shouldn't try to speak. You look very dehydrated. Here, drink this. He ordered and brought a canteen to her lips. The woman took the canteen and brought it to her lips. The water was cold and felt good going down her throat. She continued to drink and then began choking as she swallowed too quickly. She couldn't seem to get enough of the liquid drink slowly he ordered. My name is Thomas Alexander. And now that you have my name what is your name? And where is Michael? I told him I didn't want a bride. This is ridiculous. Does he honestly think that by ordering me a bride all will be forgiven? He asked harshly. You cannot replace a love of your life with a mail order bride. The young girl blinked. The man seemed angry at her. She was confused. Where was she? And why was this man angry at her? What has she done wrong? I I am sorry. My name is Heather. She squeaked out again through her still parched throat and then took another big gulp of the water in the canteen. The man quickly pulled the canteen from her. Well, slow down. I guess you really are thirsty. How long have you been out here? With nothing to drink, He asked. I can't believe Michael left you out here with no water. Where is he? Michael? Heather asked in confusion. Who is Michael? Oh, come now, Miss. It's over. I don't need or want a bride. You can tell Michael to send you back to wherever he ordered you from. Heather's voice was stronger now. Her throat still a bit role, but at least she could speak. Sir, I'm afraid I have no idea what you were talking about. I don't know anyone named Michael, and I don't know you. Nor do we know how I got here or where I am, for that matter. She answered honestly as she tried to figure out why this man was angry with her and what he was accusing her off. Her dress was wet and clung to her skin. She felt cold so very cold. When she opened her mouth to speak again, her teeth began to chatter, causing her to quickly close it without speaking your cold. Perhaps we should move you into the hut and try to warm you up a bit. The sun is beginning to set and the breeze will chill you through and that wet dress you're wearing, he said as he gruffly tugged her arm to help her stand.