Books That Are Read To You Novels & Stories

He quickly shut his mouth. He stood up and wandered around to digest. Noticing Gregory holding a book, he leaned in curiously. "What are you reading so seriously?" When he read the title of the book, he froze, completely speechless. "What is it that's got your jaw hitting the floor?" Adrian also wheeled over and raised an eyebrow when he saw the title—"Accompanying My Wife Through Pregnancy." Beside Gregory's hand were several other books that were bookmarked—"Complete Pregnancy Guide," "Weekly Recipe for Pregnant Women," and "Dad's Voice: The Secret to Prenatal Bonding."

“She’s ready. She’s just torturing me on purpose. She’s already your daughter.” He chuckles low. “Fair.” He reaches for the book on the coffee table. It’s old, leather-bound, the pages yellowed. Russian poetry. Pushkin, Akhmatova, some Tsvetaeva. He’s been reading it to my belly every evening for the last two weeks. Says it’s tradition, his mom used to read poetry to him when he was little, in Russian, and he wants Sandra to hear it too. Before she’s even born. He opens to a marked page. Clears his throat.

"Volunteers for what? Militia?" "No. For the library. Reading to kids. Or shelving books." Cale frowned. "I am not a librarian." "You like books. You like order. You like silence. It's perfect." "Children are chaotic variables. They are sticky. And loud." "They're also funny. And they need someone to read them stories." "I do not know stories." "You can read them facts. 'Did you know the speed of light is 299,792,458 meters per second?' They'll love it."

She asked in a frightened voice. “How about this instead? I am a little scared of sleeping by myself too right now. How about sleeping right over here on your rocking chair and I will keep you safe. Is that a deal baby girl?” “Okay. Can you read me a story, like Daddy Roman used to do?” She asked, and I walked over to her little white bookshelf stacked with princess books and pulled out the story of Mulan. I hadn’t even made it three pages in before the soft purrs of the little girl had me lulled off to sleep.

I asked. He nodded. “I think so. They just wanted me to read to them, not compute something, so I guess I could do that.” I smiled. “The book’s on the side table. Thank you, Finn.” He waved happily before turning his back on us. “Please tell me it’s a fairy tale book, not the Introduction to Chemistry textbook?” Anya asked me. “I didn’t see any book except that,” Sky chimed in. “Why are you reading that to the kids?” He asked like he was accusing me again of giving my children a hard time.

"I don't read. Carolynn read to me but said I didn't deserve to touch the book." Placing the box on the counter, he took her hand. "What did she read to you?" "God's book." He could barely hear her voice but the scent of her distress didn't diminish. "Reading lessons will be added to your daily activities. I know my dad keeps some of my favorite childhood books here at the cabin and I'll gladly read them to you. Come with me." His voice had changed from that of a commanding alpha to the tone of a playful boy.

I called out to her. "It's not about where they sit to read, it's what they sit to read." She said vaguely and I arched a brow at her. She inclined her head towards the small table beside the couch and I took a step closer to it, lifting up the books to examine them. Something twitched in my jaw and I ground my teeth together as I stared at the books in my hand. 'A Luna's guide around a pack' 'How to be a good luna.' 'The ideal Luna.'

She stared at Kent and said, “it’s so huge, how do I find the book I want ? She asked. Kent grinned and said, “hold on”. “Alexa”. He called out They were wondering who he was calling when they heard a female voice across the room. He stared at his wife's surprised face and explained, “Alexa is programmed to know where the books are arranged, so the robots present do the job by bringing it to you”. Can I give it a try?” She asked him . “Yes baby”. Kent said and smiled at her dotingly. “Alexa”. August called out.

“God help you.” “I think the words in this one are too big.” She sat cross legged on the floor, a book on her lap. “Maybe I should just talk . . . or something. And you can learn words that way, okay?” She’d been reading to it for weeks. Had gone to the library and scrounged around, finally finding those big, slender books that had page after page filled with large pictures and easy words. “This one?” the librarian had said. “This is much too young for you. You really should be reading at a much higher level by now, don’t you think?”