Audiobook Voice Actor Demo Reel
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
British (General) North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
look growing up in his family wasn't wasn't easy. All right. No. Okay. I admit I've I've had my faults and apologize for that. But you can't, it's your car. You can't take this away from me culturally cut last time I saw you. I don't believe we had the proper chance to get acquainted, do we? Well, I want to know exactly what it is you're doing here. You see, you might be able to pull the wool over their eyes and fool them, but not me. You see, I don't trust you. I don't know you. So I definitely don't believe you. Ever since you showed up. Everything's been a bit well, bit funny over here, isn't it? Sorry? You better start talking, mate. Hey, yo look this this ain't right. This ain't a good look, man. I mean, think about it. You're gonna risk everything for what? Some street ************ didn't even know like that. Chase, nah, man, nah, I can't let you do that. Not today. Not ever. **** that. Alysia Berenson was 33 years old when she killed her husband. They had been married for seven years. They were both artists. Unless she was a painter. And Gabriel was a well known fashion photographer. He had a distinctive style, shooting semi starve, semi naked women at strange on the flattering angles since his death. The price of his photographs has increased astronomically. I find this stuff rather than slick and shallow. To be honest. There's none of the visceral quality of Alicia's best work. Now. Of course, I don't know enough about art to say whether Alicia Berenson will stand the test of time as a painter? Her talent will always be overshadowed by her notoriety. So it's hard to be objective and you might well accuse me of being biased. I mean, all I can offer is my opinion for what it's worth. And to me, Alicia was kind of a genius apart from her technical skill. Her paintings have an uncanny ability to grab your attention by the throat almost and hold it in a vise like grip. When I think of my wife, I always think of her head. You know the shape of it to begin with. The very first time I saw her, It was the back of her head I saw and there was something just lovely about it, the angles of it like a shiny hard corn kernel or riverbed fossil she had, what the Victorians would call her finally shaped head. You could imagine the skull quite easily. I know her head anywhere. Was incited. I think of that too. Her mind. Her brain world coils and her thoughts shuttling through those coils like fast, frantic Centipedes, like a child, that picture opening her skull and spooling her brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down her thoughts. What are you thinking? Amy? The question I've asked most often during our marriage, if not out loud, not to the person who could answer suppose these questions storm cloud over every marriage. What are you thinking? How are you feeling? Who are you? What have we done to each other? What will we do? The thursday Murder Club has concluded this latest meeting this week. They've been looking at the cold case of a Hastings newsagent who murdered an intruder with a crossbow. He'd been arrested, but then the media got involved in. The consensus was that man should be allowed to protect his own shop with a crossbow, for goodness sake. He walked free, head held high. A month or so later, police had discovered that the intruder was dating the newsagents, teenage daughter and the newsagent had a long record of GBH. By that point, everybody had moved on. It was 1975 after all, no CCTV and no one wanting to make a fuss.