Audiobook Narration
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EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
Irish (Eastern- Leinster, Dublin) Irish (General)Transcript
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Louis Man by Peter May On this storm lashed island three hours off the northwest coast of Scotland. What little soil exists gives the people their food on their heat. It also takes their dead, and very occasionally, as today gives one up. It is a social thing. The peat cutting family, neighbours, Children all gathered on the moor with a wild wind blowing out of the southwest to dry the grasses and keep the mages of bay and Bang is just five years old. It is her first peat cutting and the one she will remember for the rest of her life conclave by Robert Harris. To begin with, he read automatically at this moment of great responsibility in the history of the Holy Church of Christ. The words issued from his wife went forth into nothingness and seemed to expire halfway along the nave on drop inert from mid air. Only when he mentioned the late Holy Father, whose brilliant pontificate it was a gift from God, was there a gradual welling up of applause that started among the lady at the far end of the basilica and roll towards the altar until finally it was taken up with diminished enthusiasm by the cardinals, he was obliged to stop until it's subsided. Milk Man by Anna Burns. The day somebody makes somebody put a gun to my breast and called me a cat and threatened to shoot me was the same day the milkman died. He had been shot by one of the state hit squads, and I did not care about the shooting of this man. Others did care, though, and somewhere those who in the parlance, knew me to see, but not to speak to. And I was being talked about because there was a rumour started by them or, more likely, by first brother in law that I had been having an affair with this milk man. On that I was 18 and he was 41. Oh, dear Sylvia by dawn French Monday, 11 a.m. Maybe I should never have told him just left him. Let it all get colder and colder until the whole FEC and sham of a marriage was an iceberg, and I could slide off it into the freezing water and swim away. Swim to you, Sil. You were definitely the warmer waters perilous in your own way. But warmer than him. And anyway, I had no fact and choice by then. If I'm honest, it had to be you. But it would, maybe of being wiser, not to tell him anything. Cat leans back in the chair, gives a big, deep breath and stretches her arms high above her head. She is trying to behave as normally as possible in her injured life, which has been stabbed and is currently on its knees. The Return Journey by Maeve Binchy did Frida. The card I sent the other day was for the neighbours, or rather, for you and your paranoia about the neighbours. Anyway, it's purpose was that it could be left around and looked at spied on and inspected by them. The truth is that the place is a shambles. It's cold and it's raining so hard I can't see whether it's green or yellow. The truth is, but I still feel heart and unhappy and not at all like writing letters. The truth is that I must care about you a great deal. Otherwise, why am I letting that call from the airport get to me so badly? I believed you when you said you'd watch for a letter or an e mail, I will write. But just now there's nothing to say. Try not to worry about what people think and say, Honestly, they aren't thinking and saying much about us at all. They have their own problems. Cover her face By P. J. James. She held out her hand towards Sally. Never once said she raised her voice. But her cam authority was more frightening than anger. And the girl's voice was tinged with hysteria as she replied, I'm afraid you're unlucky. I haven't got the tablets. I took them to Steven this afternoon. Yes, Steven on now I've heard your silly Twaddell. I'm glad I did. I'd like to see Stephen's face if I told him that you knew all the time. Dear faithful old Martha so devoted to the family. You don't care a damn for any of them, you old hypocrite. Except for your precious master. Pity you can't see yourself washing him, stroking his face, cooing to him as if he were your baby. I could laugh sometimes if it weren't so pitiful. It's indecent. She swung the child onto her hip, and Martha heard the door close behind her. Martha lurched over to the sink and clutched it with shaking hands. She was seized with a physical revulsion that made her wretch, but her body found no relief in sickness.