Voice In Literature Examples

Blood dripped from the edge of Damian Moretti’s knife when he first saw her.Adriana Rossi should have turned away—any sane woman would. Instead, she met his stare across the bloodstained marble floor, her chin tilted like a challenge.Two families. One war. A love carved out of violence.“You shouldn’t be here,” Damian murmured, voice low, dangerous.Adriana’s lips curved. “Neither should you.”

After a breakup, I went to a nightclub and employed the services of a male escort. He turned out to be blind, so I immediately lost interest. I was about to leave when he suddenly pulled me into the bathroom. He revealed his chiseled abs and said in a deep, smooth voice, “Miss, I may not be able to see, but my fingers are very nimble.” As he spoke, he slid his hand under my dress.

I always thought my wife was just an ordinary "brother-loving sister," the kind who would do anything for her brother. But one night, I watched in frozen horror as she dismembered her brother in our storage room. Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned and looked straight at me. She flashed her usual gentle smile. "Honey," she called softly, her voice sweet and familiar—exactly the same as always.

My childhood friend said that he was connected with the doll. Now that he had lost it, he called me up to cry. One hand held my phone as I consoled him, while the other toyed with the doll. His voice began to take on a more interesting tone with my purposeful touches… I squeezed and pinched the toy and comforted him, “Shh, I agree with you. Whoever took your toy is a terrible person…”

Janis, a 24-years old general surgeon, finally had everything she wanted in her life. Peace. She didn't know that signing an exclusive contract to be someone's personal doctor will end up being hell. She had to remain tight lipped for whatever was going to happen. Sebastian was a jerk with silvery voice and he liked to keep guns as his pets. Janis was fed up due to his mysterious leather jacket facade and she was ready to perform an autopsy.

The autobiography of the sorrowful life of a young boy amidst joy. A cruel and unforgettable past. Wickedness beyond recognition. Born to a busy and ignorant father. Nurtured in the cruel arms of his stepmother. Fate, love and hurdles surround his young life. Having God as the only voice that listens to him. Holding on to hope that light still exists at the end of the tunnel - A moral-filled book that threatens to keep you glued until the end. A book based on African settings, names and themes.

My parents were branded as "traitors" within the Lucchese family. To show the family's mercy, I was taken in as their "sacrificial lamb" to atone for my parents' sins, and I lived with them for 12 years. Those 12 brutal years would have been unbearable if not for one thing: the Don, Antonio Lucchese, had twin heirs who became my only protection. Until that night, when they believed Martina Browne's lies about me and handed me the execution poison known as "The Vow of Silence." "Drink it, Chiara Colombo." Dante Lucchese's voice was cold, his eyes fixed on me. "Prove your loyalty to the Lucchese family." I drank the poison, and it burned through my throat like acid. Through my blurred vision, I watched as his twin brother, Enzo Lucchese, pulled the real traitor close to him. He said coldly, "Take Chiara to the infirmary. Don't let her die in the banquet hall." The day I was released from the hospital, I made a phone call to the Lucchese family's deadliest rival. My voice was hoarse as I spoke each word slowly. "I have evidence that could bury the entire Lucchese family. Marry me, and I'll help you destroy them."

For five years, Marco Falcone was the perfect man. Or so I thought. The illusion shattered on the night of our engagement party, when his mistress crashed it, a five-year-old boy in tow. The boy ran straight to Marco, crying, "Daddy! Daddy, I finally found you!" It had to be some kind of sick joke. But then Marco turned to me, his voice stripped of all warmth. "This is my son, Leo. A… mistake Sofia and I made five years ago." "Leo is the Falcone heir. I have to legitimize them. That means I'll be engaged to Sofia first." "But Lydia, believe me, I still love you. We can have our engagement party in six months. You're going to be the Donna of the Falcone family. I expect you to be generous and understanding. This is non-negotiable." I laughed, a cold, sharp sound, and slid the engagement ring off my finger. My eyes scanned the room and locked on the man in the corner—Lorenzo Moretti, the most powerful Don in New York. He held another title, one only I knew: the man who’d been trying to make me his. "Don Moretti," I called out, my voice clear and steady. "I find myself in need of a new fiancé. Are you interested?"

“Please, stop," I gasped, my voice barely a whisper as Damien's lips trailed down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I tilted my head to the side, giving him more access, unable to resist the pleasure he was giving me. "Are you sure you want us to stop?" Dorian's voice was teasing, his hands exploring my body in a way that made my heart race. "I have a mate," I managed to say, the words coming out in a breathless plea. "Don't worry, we'll make you forget all about him," Rhett murmured, his lips capturing my nipple, sending a jolt of desire through me. How did my fate take such a dramatic turn? Framed by my ruthless stepmother and rejected by my destined mate, I was cast out of my pack, forced to leave behind everything I knew. The decree was clear: never set foot in my former home again. Yet, life had other plans. Now, I find myself bound to not one, but three stunningly handsome and formidable alphas - my second chance mates. How did I go from outcast to the center of their attention?"

Our daughter, Luna Woods, developed a high fever. Her body was burning hot. I immediately dialed 911 for help. The dispatcher on the other end kept repeating his questions. He spoke slowly, as if deliberately stalling for time. By the time I finally heard the ambulance siren, Luna was already turning cold in my arms. In less than a year, my wife and I separated. We were consumed by endless grief and blamed for each other. Afterward, I merely existed for the sake of it. I was a hollow shell of a man. Then, one day, I received a wedding invitation from my ex-wife. The moment I played the audio invitation, a chill ran down my spine. The groom’s voice was identical to that of the slow, dawdling dispatcher from that year! I rushed out, utterly distraught, only to be hit by a roaring train. When I opened my eyes again, I heard Luna crying in the next room. Her forehead was burning hot. My wife hurriedly handed me the phone. “Quick, call 911! I’ll get a wet towel.” My hands trembled as I took the phone. When it was answered, I heard a familiar male voice through the receiver. “911, what’s your emergency?”