Audiobook Narration Sample

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Not Yet Rated


An excerpt from \"The Secret History\" by Donna Tartt

Vocal Characteristics



Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)


North American (General)


Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
it is difficult to believe that such an uproar took place over an act for which I was partially responsible. Even more difficult to believe. I could have walked through it, the cameras, the uniforms, the black crowd sprinkled over Mount cataract like ants in the sugar bowl, without incurring a blink of suspicion. But walking through it all was one thing. Walking away, unfortunately, has proved to be quite another. And though once I thought I had left that ravine forever, on an april afternoon long ago, No, I'm not so sure now. The searchers have departed and life has grown quiet around me. I've come to realize that while for years I might have imagined myself to be somewhere else. In reality, I have been there all the time, up at the top by the muddy wheel ruts in the new grass, where the sky is dark over the shivering apple blossoms and the first chill of the snow that will fall that night is already in the air. What are you doing up here? Said Bunny, surprised when he found the four of us waiting for him. Why looking for new ferns? Said Henry. And after we stood whispering in the underbrush, one, let's look at the body and a last look around. No dropped keys, lost classes, everybody got everything, and then started single file through the woods. I took one glance back through the saplings that leapt to close the path behind me. Though I remember the walk back and the first lonely flakes of snow that came drifting through the pines. Remember piling gratefully into the car and starting down the road like a family on vacation with Henry, driving clench job through the potholes and the rest of us leaning over the seats and talking like Children. Though I remember only too well, the long, terrible night that lay ahead, and the long, terrible days and nights that followed. I have only to glance over my shoulder for all those years to drop away, and I see it behind me again, the ravine rising all green and black through the saplings, a picture that will never leave me.