Voice Actor Lines Novels & Stories

he said to the caller. "Hello," the voice repeated. The voice on the other end was like that of a little child. "Do you know who is on the line?" the child like voice asked. "Yes, I do. You are the same person that called me earlier to inform me about the plot against Lucas," I answered. The voice was very similar to the one that called me and reported Lucas's cast to me. "Ok, so were you able to save the wolf hunter from his enemies?" the voice asked.

Whatever will be, will be. Before my tears successfully land on both of my flaming with hotness, soft cheeks, I decided it was enough for the drama. And speaking of halting the drama, just in time, I received the signal from both Chuck and Philip. According to the text message they had sent me, they were now on their chosen position and were now ready for the big suspense. At this point, it’s Rabiya’s signal that I was waiting before I would finally perform my final voice acting. While waiting for her ‘go signal,’ I exercised my voice first and I had done several voice acting practices to assure that I would not make any mistakes later. I recalled all the voices that I could copy and tried t

Assuming it was Luke I immediately answered the call with a smile on my lips. "Hello, my love." I was open and inevitably thrilled even though I couldn’t see it. He’s been texting me before, that you thought was how I could. "My life, my ass." The creepy voice I heard from the other line. My eyes immediately glanced at Kevina, he immediately turned to my seat while still waving. "W -who's that?" I asked weakly while nervous. "You don't need to know, Elle." Answer from the other line. "W-what do you need!" I emphasize that words are just enough for the speaker on the other line to hear.

The voice from the mini recorder played on, repeating the same line with shattering clarity. Every word uttered in Lucas’s signature heavy tone seeped into her like snake venom, paralyzing every nerve in Aria’s body. The recording extinguished every bit of warmth that had managed to creep into the deepest corners of her heart.

I don't fill my lungs with air; I fill them with ice. "Marco Greco cut the brake lines," I say. My voice is not the voice of the girl who served wine. It is not the voice of the woman who whispered in the dark to her lovers. It is deeper. Resonant. It has the metallic timbre of a command.