Novel & Cerita The Midnight Library Audiobook Narrator

But as soon as she got into the living room, the two books were on the table. "Why are these books here?" she asked herself. The last time she saw these, they were in her room, on the bookshelf. She looked around; the place was too quiet. "They must have realized that I left," she whispered. Verena grabbed the ancient books and hugged them tightly. "I have to see what's going on, I need to," she said to herself. It was three in the afternoon, and there's no way that she'd be seeing the moon at this time. She needed a moment before she took a look at the witch's book.

but I press the button anyway. "Yes?" asks a female voice after a few seconds, "Who is this?" "My name is Midnight. I'm Lionel Vosse's daughter," I say, trying not to sound as insecure as I feel, "Are you Angie? Can you... let me in?" She doesn't say anything for several minutes, but I know she's still on the line. I turn a little and see that the ginger boy has now finally looked up from his phone and is looking at me with wide eyes.

Mama has a surprise for you when you get here. He chuckled. I heard a lot of things in the background like shuffling of things. We talked for a while about his school and about my work. We ended the call and I prepared my bag for tomorrow. And when I hit my pillows the darkness engulfed me. I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm. It was already four in the morning and I should arrive at the airport at five-thirty in the morning. I took a nice long bath and face timed Isabel.

Maya’s POV Midnight is rude. It removes logic. It removes fear. It removes clothing in your imagination before you can stop it. And unfortunately, my imagination has a favorite victim. My next door neighbor is tall, unfairly attractive, and has the kind of voice that could convince a nun to sin without even raising his tine My name is Maya Collins. I am nineteen. I am supposed to be focused on saving my family business, finishing university, and behaving like a responsible adult.

As we step out into the library hallway, the moon slides out from behind a cloud, casting long shadows on the floor. And somewhere in the darkness, I swear I can hear a clock starting to tick. Midnight is coming.

He wore a fitted black shirt that clung to his powerful frame, looking both refined and untamed. “Who are you?” I whispered, pressing my back against the shelf. “I am Lucian,” he said calmly, his voice like warm velvet. “Guardian of the Midnight Library. This section only appears between twelve and one. You were never meant to find it.” I couldn’t breathe properly. “This isn’t real. I must be dreaming.” Lucian stepped closer, moving with graceful confidence. “Would you like me to prove how real this is?” My pulse raced for a moment. Every instinct told me to run, but my body refused to move. There was something magnetic about him. He looked dangerous and irresistible at the same time.

"Midnight, at the old library. Bring what you can.” I spent the hours until then in restless prayer or what passed for prayer these days. My vocation had never felt more like a lie. I had entered this convent seeking revenge for my father. Now I was falling for the son of the man responsible. The irony tasted like ash. The old library at midnight was a place of ghosts. Moonlight slanted through the high windows, illuminating dust motes that danced like tiny spirits. Jordan was already there, a single shielded lantern on the table in front of him.

For one impossible heartbeat. Even time itself seemed to stand still. The stranger looked directly into Adrian's eyes. His voice was calm. "But remember this..." "The First Reader is not waiting to judge you..." "...He is waiting to ask you a single question." The chains tightened again. The darkness opened wider. And from beyond it... A deep voice echoed across the dying library. "Bring him to me." The command echoed through the collapsing library. "Bring him to me." The voice did not belong to the stranger.

Lily Pendleton He texted me at midnight. Library. Back corner. Don't bring your notepad. I stared at the screen for a full minute. My heart was already racing. I should've said no. I should've turned off my phone and gone to sleep. But my fingers typed back before my brain could stop them: I'll be there. The library was dead silent. Dusty. Smelled like old paper and secrets. I slipped through the back door, my sneakers squeaking on the marble floor.