Books That Are Read To You の小説・ストーリー

Reese said as he motioned to the monitor where Gigi was reading a spicy lesbian romance book to the sleeping babies. “Seriously? That’s what she reads to them?” “Don’t even.” Her dad warned. “I’ve seen the books that you’ve given Dean and put on her e-reader.” His daughter blushed slightly. “She’s practically an adult.” “And they have no idea what she’s saying. It’s the tone and the fact that she’s reading to them. When they’re awake, it’s classics and children’s stories.” “Fine.” Cheryl groaned.

I ask curiously as I pick it up and hold it delicately in my fingers. "It's a recording, of me reading the entire book of Pride and Prejudice out loud" He explains with a wide grin. "I just figured that since it's your comfort book and there comes a time where I'm not there with you when you need me, maybe it would be something you'd want to listen to" His words make my eyes start to well up with tears. Rhode's voice has brought me so much comfort the past few years, hearing him talking is enough to soothe almost any anxiety that I have. I've asked him many times to read aloud to me if I'm having a rough time or I can't sleep and he's always done it without complaint or hesitation. But if he

Suess, The Giving Tree, Rainbow Fish, and Mother Goose. Titan smiled to himself as he chooses Jemima Puddle Duck. He takes his tea and sits on the balcony outside of his office. He reads the book and sips his tea. As his cup becomes empty, he looks out over the lawn. The pack’s littlest pups are playing. “Hello, Alpha,” Miss Thompson waves.

Noble pointed at it: "Not yet, I'll check later." Alina smiled, threw the book to him, and whispered, "Read it, the baby wants to hear it." Actually, she wanted to hear it. His voice was very easy to listen to, especially when he read a book; the words were clear, the voice was low, husky, and sexy. Every time he heard it, Alina's heart fluttered. Noble didn't refuse; he opened a book and started reading to her.

she replied softly as she reached for one of Noah's beloved storybooks on the nearby shelf. Noah's face lit up with anticipation as he handed the chosen book to his mother. Irene settled into a comfortable position on the edge of his bed, the book held open before her. She began to read, her voice gentle and soothing, weaving a tale of adventure and wonder. As Irene's melodious voice filled the room, Noah's eyes grew heavy, but he fought to keep them open, not wanting to miss a word of the enchanting story. He clutched his favorite stuffed animal, a plush bear named Mr. Snuggles, to his chest.

“We improvise it live.” Pauly handed her a slim, battered paperback—Mockingbird, cover worn, pages gutted to hold a wafer-thin transceiver and a micro-SD slot. “Your new copy. Same weight as the real one. Press the title twice if you’re burned; it wipes your last three hours and plays an audiobook. Press the author twice and it pings us with location.” She slid the book into her tote without looking. “And if I press the spine?” “It complains about being objectified,” Pauly said.

Another loss for a child who'd already experienced too much loss in her short life. The thought made my stomach twist with guilt I hadn't anticipated feeling. “Isla, look at this one!” Rosie called, pulling a large picture book from the shelf. “It's about a girl who can talk to animals. Daddy reads it to me before bed sometimes but he does funny voices and it makes me laugh.” I forced myself to look away from Callum and move toward Rosie, sitting down on the floor beside her as she opened the book and started explaining the story with animated gestures and sound effects.

He looked completely absorbed, like nothing else in the world mattered except what his five-year-old son was telling him. Goddess, it made my chest hurt so fucking bad. “This is my favorite book,” Callum said, pulling a worn copy of a picture book we’d read a thousand times over from his bookshelf. “Mama reads it to me every night, but she does funny voices.” “Funny voices?” Isaac glanced at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged. “He’s very particular about the monster voices.” Callum climbed onto Isaac’s lap without hesitation, opening the book. “Will you read it to me, Daddy?”

She wasn’t the kind to dart ahead like other kids. No, Myra moved slowly, her eyes tracing each shelf as though the books might lean down and whisper secrets meant just for her. I could already picture it—the way her lips would part when she found a story she liked, her quiet murmur as she read, as if every word was a drop of honey she had to savor before setting it free. We’d chosen three books, two nature guides and a brightly illustrated story about forest foxes. Suddenly her steps slowed. Her fingers loosened in mine.