Poisonwood Bible Audiobook Novels & Stories

Immediately I knew the poison was taking effect. When Brittany first hired me, she made me aware of how the poison worked. “My husband will be consuming it by inhaling. When it’s taking effect, he’ll begin to bleed internally.” I watched what she described take place in front of me. Jude heaves out more splotches of blood as he coughs some more. I was on my feet and around the desk before I could think. I crouched beside his chair and put one hand on his back, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades.

I nodded, though disappointment fluttered in my chest. The Living Book wasn’t something easily hidden. Its very presence radiated light and power. If he carried it with him, anyone with eyes would notice. That meant he was keeping it locked away. That night, I slipped quietly into the woods once more. After days of forced silence and distance, seeing Zevarion again felt like a balm against the growing storm inside me. We sat close beneath the cover of trees, the firelight flickering gently beside us. I told him everything, what I had overheard outside Xareth’s office, what I suspected and I feared.

As I listened to his voice, wondering what the heck he was saying, I realized quickly that he was reading where I had left off, from the book that I had placed on his bedside table from the night before. As I listened to his voice, something about it became soothing to my ears, and as I continued to listen to him read, I could feel my wolf within me stir, as if his voice was affecting her too. Unable to move or open my eyes, I was now a prisoner to my body, flipping the tables with him, as it was clear that he had made a recovery from the poisoning. What I didn’t understand was why he was here with me now, reading from my book, instead of taking his pack back, or had he already done that.

Then fell back into his unending abyss of silence. And while the fires licked out of control at Honeycomb Haven, spreading from the upright wooden box-hives to Cassie Patrick’s house and the outbuildings, the Gospel Book Store downtown blazed away itself like a beacon in the night—having been similarly torched—its hundreds of Bibles burning and melting, turning to holy ash inside the structure, before Glee Deadmond even had the chance to purchase a new one to replace her old.

And so as she watch her mum’s slender figure disappear into the shadows of the night, all she could was seat still just as she had been instructed, wiping the tears with the back of her palms from time to time until she fell asleep right there out in the night, worn out by all the tears she had to cry, and the thoughts of abandonment she had to sieve through in her head. The kids her age in the orphanage didn’t really make it easy to have friends. They called her “crazy Mowgli”, and it wasn’t until she was able to read and write that she could truly understand what the words meant and how she had come to be known as that. It was then she found a copy of “The jungle book” in the orphanage lib

And you can forget about a comfortable retirement! I stood in the doorway, coldly watching this scene unfold. My mother-in-law's hand trembled. She whipped around and met my eyes. Her face went deathly pale as she fumbled to end the call, her lips quivering. "Graham... You... Why are you home?" She stood frozen in place. She darted her eyes away, looking like a child caught doing something wrong. I looked at her, feeling a pang of bitterness. I let out a soft sigh. "Grace, even though Arya's gone, I've always treated you like my own mother."

In them, Elise bragged about the poisonous mushrooms, telling how she helped other classmates buy them, along with the conversations where I repeatedly tried to stop them from eating them. I had started secretly recording every chat with Elise after worrying she would poison herself and then pin the blame on me. I never thought those recordings would actually be used. The moment the audio ended, the entire livestream fell into a dead silence. Elise had been telling her sob story on livestream for days, so a lot of people recognized her voice. When a tech-savvy viewer confirmed the recordings were authentic, the tide turned instantly. The same people who had been cursing me immediately rushed

She didn’t have any other ulterior motives. “I feel as though my closet is too small. I was wondering if I could have someone come in and make my closet bigger. I don’t have enough space for all my books...” Rosalie tests as she watches him drink the coffee. Tonight she’ll finally know the side effects of the drug. She was perfecting a new poison – a clear, colourless liquid that, despite its innocent appearance, held the power to bring even the strongest man to his knees. Or that’s what she had planned. It was a potent brew, a blend of rare botanicals and powerful toxins, a testament to her years of studying the dark arts of chemistry and toxicology.

She said I told Daddy she doesn’t take care of us. But I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. It doesn’t matter what I say, though. It never has. She doesn't believe me. She never listens. Last night, when she was screaming and slurring, smelling like cheap whiskey and broken promises, I tried to tell her I didn't say anything. I begged her. I fell to my knees, gripping her ankles like a coward, like a child. But she only laughed. A cold, hollow laugh that doesn’t sound like a mother at all. And then she poured the lighter fluid over my books, one by one, before setting them on fire while I watched.