Reading A Book Aloud Novels & Stories

Bella immediately snuggled into my side, her warm little head resting against my arm. I opened the book and started reading, using different voices for each character like she loved. The fox had a high, mischievous voice. The bear was deep and grumbly. The bunny spoke fast and nervously. Bella giggled, her eyes shining every time I made a particularly silly voice. I was halfway through a scene where the fox was trying to steal honey from the bees when I looked down at Bella, checking to see if she was still listening or already drifting off.

One, two, three… Then I heard him. Footsteps. Heavy, measured, stopping outside the nursery door. He didn’t knock. Alphas didn’t knock. But he didn’t burst in either. There was a long pause. And then — his voice. Low, rumbling, deliberately soft. “‘The Warrior Bear stomped through the forest,’” he read. “‘His roar shook the leaves from the trees. But when he found the little cub crying…’” I froze. He was doing the voices.

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

He read as though it were a procedure. This was the only way I could describe it. He held the book at a reasonable angle and he read at a pace that was neither rushed nor artificially slow, the pace of someone who had determined the correct pace through prior consideration and was now implementing it. He did not do the voices. He did not add editorial commentary or pause to discuss the illustrations. He simply read, steadily and clearly, the words on the page in the order they were written. The book was about a bear and a rabbit who were trying to determine which of them could stay awake longer.

I stood up, wore my shoes, and then head out of the room. Once I entered the library, I stroked the books, and as I reached a certain novel, I grabbed it 'All I ever wanted' I caressed the book cover, I opened it, and then walked toward a couch and sat down. Whenever I’m reading a novel with Evan he reads it out loud which is fucking annoying, I mean why do we have an inner voice if we aren’t going to use it. Not quite long after I flipped onto the next chapter, I heard the door pushed open, and lowered down the book to have a clear view of the doorway.

“Read for me, baby.” The vibration of his voice against my cunt drags a moan out of me. Our parents shouldn’t have left us alone, I wouldn’t have been subjected to this torture. Not like they would have made any difference. Where’s the book? I drag it forward, the words seem to move on the page. Damn it. “Read.” How I manage to read is beyond me. But his tongue teasing my entrance contributes to the words spilling out of my lips. His tongue swipes over my dripping cunt for each correct answer, on the last answer, he withdraws completely.

Noah said, without looking up. "There he is," Lydia said, laughing, and pulled him gently into her lap. Ezra, who had been hovering nearby pretending not to be interested in a book clearly intended for someone younger, drifted closer anyway and perched on the edge of the sofa within listening distance. "You can listen too," Lydia said, glancing over at him. "I'm just sitting here," Ezra said. "I'm not listening." "Of course," Lydia said, and began reading anyway, her voice falling into the warm, unhurried rhythm she'd developed for exactly this, for afternoons like this one, for boys who needed her in different ways and at different volumes.

This was going to be a long session. * * * “You're reading too hard,” I say, reaching over to drag the book closer. “Stop trying to memorize every word. Read like you're listening to someone talk to you.” “That sounds easy.” “It’s not. But it’s how people who read a lot remember things. Here—” I flip a page. “Skim the first two paragraphs, then tell me what it’s about in two lines.” She hesitates, then bends over the page. Her lips move silently as she scans. Her brows pinch together, then smooth. A few seconds later, she looks up.

“I won’t get another chance, at least not for a while.” “Be my guest,” Barbara answered watching as the kids saw their former storyteller. They all cheered and rushed to her, hugging her and talking at once, forgetting the library rules of no talking. Sandra smiled happily to them as she led them to the carpet in the corner and took up her seat. She accepted the book one of the children handed her, a book they had been reading in class. Sandra smiled and turned to page ninety of Huckleberry Finn and began reading. Creighton arrived a short time later, followed by Papa and Nana. He immediately recognized his wife’s lilting tone and smiled as he watched her reading to the children. She looked

He lay down on the bed, placing his head on her legs. A moment later, Vivian heard his monotonous voice. "She clung to the broken pieces, praying for light to come tomorrow..." Frowning, she lowered her book to catch a glimpse of him. "What the hell are you reading?" "A book I bought from the bookstore." "For what?" "I heard that children like to hear their father's voice, so I will read to them." Vivian scoffed in disbelief. "What books are you reading? Peanuts won't understand."