Audiobook Demo Romance - My Kind of Right
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (US South)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Madam. Oh, ****. I yelled, Aaron had apparently snuck in somehow while Francis strolled calmly out. Can I get you a dessert while you ate Jesus Christ? I whispered my hand on my heart. Why didn't you use that intercom thingy? I uh, his *** shifted around the room. A cannoli perhaps. I whipped the napkin off my lap and stood. He told you to keep me in here, didn't he? I didn't wait for a response. My mother always told me curiosity killed the coyote and it would kill me someday too. Well, I didn't have much to lose. Now did I? I pushed past Aaron who made only a fable attempt to grab at my dress. He didn't know I had been a receptionist at a judo place downtown and picked up a few moves in my short time there taking free lessons. A girl has to learn some self-defense at some point. Right. I ducked under his arm and spun around flinging open the door and letting it slam in his face. I winced a bit. Aaron was for all intents and purposes. Pretty nice. Just a waiter trying to do his job while doing it. A bit badly since he was in cahoots with Francis. Obviously, I snuck down the hall. We had come down until it curved back into the dining room and paused to my right, a swinging door that led to the kitchen and a small hallway with a barred door marked exit. Which way did Francis go Sisk. A lot of people don't know, silences don't really have gunshots. They just lower the decibels with suppression. Thank you. The three month stint I did at the shooting range out by the base. Tourists love that ****. Even in that short amount of time, I realized gunshots didn't even start on me like they should have. Now, I was really, really intrigued, terrified as **** but curious as ****. So I pushed through the exit door in the direction of the silenced weapon, sweat beaded on my forehead as I realized how incredibly stupid I was being, I was walking into a gunfight for God's sake. But what if Francis was hood? I slipped off one of my converses and poised it over my head as a weapon in case I was walking into something dastardly. God, I wish I wore heels. I felt absently as the door climbed open. Noisily before me, there was some kind of abandoned patio, turned employee smoking area outside. Once, probably a lovely patio with a romantic decorative lights and relies covered in ivy. It was mostly just a broken down, poorly lit area with an overfilled garbage bind to one side. The air was rank with molded food and the slightest hint of aroma on the other side of the broken trellis surrounding the porch. I could barely make out Francis in the la from the singular bulb above the garbage bin. At first all I could hear was a tw tw twa like the tail of a large dog wapping against the counter at Bobs. But then I realized dog tails didn't really mimic the sound of someone's face being punched in. Not entirely, you know, Francis said another punch landing on his unseen victim. The crunch of the dude's face echoing in the air. I really whack like whack this girl thwack. Why are you ******* up my night banner thwack. This time it was followed by a I just wanted another punch. But the stranger Banna continued to talk, I flattened myself against the garbage, my hands over my nose with dual purpose. As I slipped my shoe back on, it seemed Francis could take care of himself after all. But why in the world was it so hot? I crossed my legs and tucked my bottom lip in between my teeth. I was of two minds. You definitely aren't getting a second date out of this, I thought, but damn, I love a mayan that can take charge the punch and had stopped now and was replaced by dragging noises and Francis disappeared from view. I poked around the corner of the porch, but they had disappeared a dozen feet away though. I spotted a discarded revolver with a silencer. I could barely make out small grape hires of smoke swirling up from the end. I dove forward and snatched up the revolver. It was so much heavier than I thought it would be. Anna Francis was standing next to an old dark green mustang with the trunk lid open, casually leaning against it with his head on his hand as if he didn't just shove a body in here or whatever he did with it. I stood and waved the gun toward him this year was He moved quick in two strides. He was nose to nose with man. He yanked the gun out of my hand and shoved it in his coat. I realized then he was wearing black rubber gloves which were shiny here and there in the one light bulb from the back of the restaurant. I stumbled back a bit shocked at how quickly he closed the distance between us. Then he gently slipped a finger under the strap of my dress and pulled me closer and pressed his lips to mine. Holy ****. It wasn't just a chaos. It was a man flowing, ****. A ray of mouths, bodies and souls embracing. Ok. Maybe I'm exaggerating. But the way he captured me like I was his and when his tongue pressed against mine, I swear, sparks flew breathless. I pulled away from him, but not before I realized my hands were wrapped in his lapel. That was nice. I say it between breaths. He pulled a small handkerchief from the pocket of his suit and dabbed it at the lipstick. I left behind. Good. Now, get in the car. I dropped my hands and stepped back. What I said? Get in the car. He flashed a smile and a wink as he said, it. Is he crazy? Am I crazy? My eyes flick between the car and him. There was likely a body in that trunk. I backed up even more. I don't want to go anywhere with you. My protest came out. We and Puny, he moved his hand and at first I thought he pulled the gun on me, but he just hailed out his open poem. Do you trust me? His chaos tingled on my lips. Breathing was hard and not because he just killed a guy. He warned me, didn't he? After all this is crazy. You've gone absolutely bonkers. And that's when I realized this was the most exciting day of my life between a dog fight and getting fired in a fancy restaurant and a guy getting beat to death. Damn, I was suddenly hungry for more of this moa excitement, more thrills, more heart stopping, breathlessness. I loved the way I failed. I smashed up his hand. I didn't even care where we were going. His Rakish Gran said it all. Let's go.