Writing Voice Examples Novels & Stories

I'd been home for half a month, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that Mom wasn't quite herself anymore. She looked and sounded like she always had, but something felt different. Then, one day, I got a message from her that sent a chill down my spine. "Lily, hide! There's a ghost in the house!" At first, I thought she was pulling a prank on me—or maybe her account got hacked. Then, there was a knock on my bedroom door. Mom, who had just finished cooking, called out to tell me the meal was ready. I was still hesitating when another message popped up. It was a voice message. "Trust me, Lily. I'm your real mom! The one out there is a ghost! Run!" It sounded just like Mom's voice from outside. My mind was racing in panic. Not hearing me respond, Mom giggled from the other side of the door and said, "I'm coming in."

"No," I protested, my voice shaking. "I won't go." Derrick's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Oh, but you will," he said. "In fact, you leave in two days." "You can't make me," I said, my voice trembling. Even if I was bound, I would never give in to his request. I would not be another one of the long line of concubines of the devil himself. Derrick leaned forward, his eyes blazing with intensity. "Oh, but I can," he whispered. "And I will." Ariana's life is shattered when her father is brutally murdered and she's forced into a betrothal with the ruthless Alpha King Ryker, a man cursed to kill any woman who bears his child. But as they work through their unfamiliar bond, secrets and lies threaten to destroy them. Can Ariana uncover the truth behind her father's death and Ryker's curse before it's too late, or will their love become the very thing that destroys them?

After Emily Cross died in an accident, I went through three years of absolute hell. This year, on the anniversary of her death, I escaped from a rehab facility overseas just to see her one last time. Stumbling into the cemetery in a daze, I passed a couple walking the other way. The man's voice was laced with annoyance. "You're almost at your due date, and you still insisted on coming to the cemetery. What a hassle." The woman gave a soft laugh. "We agreed we'd come pay respects to your father. I couldn't just back out." That voice stopped me cold. Turning my neck stiffly, I saw the face that had haunted me for three years. Emily Cross, heavily pregnant. And beside her was my mother's illegitimate son, Jake. A chill ran through me. Shaking, I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo. Then I sent it to her forensic pathologist friend. [She's not dead, is she?]

I've been married to Elliot Graves, the mafia drug lord in NYC, for the past eight years. But today—on our wedding anniversary—I received a photo of him with my best friend, Lila, celebrating as if they were the ones married. And in her arms was my son, Owen. I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply. “How perfect.” Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway. “Why do you always have to be so bitchy to Lila?” Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.” I didn’t flinch. I simply walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d long prepared, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality. “Alright,” I said, my voice calm. “It’s all my fault. Now, can I go?”

"You really think you can just walk into my dining room wearing a dress that tight and expect me to let my sons stare at you?" Arthur’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble, his large hand squeezing her thick thigh right under the table. Roxy swallowed hard, her face burning because she could literally feel the twins watching her every move, but she tried to keep her voice steady. "I... I didn't think it was that short, Arthur." "It’s not the length, sweetheart," Damian smirked, leaning against the doorframe while his eyes dropped straight to her heavy chest. "It’s just that he actually thinks he’s the only one who gets to touch." "Back the hell off, Damian," Leo growled, stepping up right behind her and wrapping a possessive arm around her soft waist to pull her flush against his body. "She’s not yours, and she’s definitely not his. We share."

"You should rest." I said, my voice embarrassingly breathless. "Probably." he agreed, but made no move to put distance between us. "You're trembling." "I'm tired. It's been a long night." I lied, my voice lacking conviction. "Liar." His free hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The gesture was surprisingly gentle, at odds with the raw intensity in his eyes. "Your heart's racing. I can hear it." ~ When the fierce Alpha wolf Roman Blackthorn shows up injured at her doorstep, village healer Mirabelle's life turns upside down. She's forced to join his pack as their healer, and honestly? She can't stand him. He's arrogant, dangerous, and infuriatingly attractive. As threats close in from all sides, Mirabelle and Roman find themselves drawn to each other, despite their best efforts to keep their distance. Can they survive each other long enough to face the real threat?

"Why are you blushing Mia?" I shiver at the sound of his voice, get a grip. "No reason" I squeak, thinking about all the ways he could take me right now in this car. "Why are you crossing your legs so tightly Mia?" his voice low making me squeeze my legs tighter, my lower region on fire. "Ace" I whine, Im not sure why though. "What is it Mia, tell me what you need" ***_*** She was big, curvy and bullied She left running with her tail between her legs Now she's back and out for revenge He left home for his country He was the sweetest But war changed him Now he's full of smirks, covered in tattoos He was her childhood crush, she was like his little sister. They both are in a world of shock seeing how much the other has changed. WARNING Mature themes Mature language Mature contents

"Melina, my dear," The alpha king declared as he entered the chamber, his voice rich with authority. "The time has come for our union. I would like you to disrobe." In the face of such a demand, Melina stood her ground, her voice unwavering. "I, Melina Haephastus, refuse Your Majesty," she stated firmly as she walked gently backwards. A palpable tension hung heavy in the air, as the king's countenance contorted, a display of surprise mingled with frustration. He strode purposefully towards her, his narrowed eyes fixed upon her. A derisive chuckle escaped his lips as he advanced. "Refuse? You dare to reject the authority of his highness, Melina?" Drawing upon an inner strength, Melina met his gaze, unyielding. "I am more than a mere vessel for an heir, Your Majesty," she asserted, her voice ringing with determination. "I am an individual with my own hopes and aspirations. I will not allow myself to be reduced to a mere breeder." *** Melina, once the niece of a rebel leader who had dared to conspire against the Alpha King in league with outsiders, now found herself a captive within the opulent walls of his palace. The King deemed her the perfect candidate to bear his heir, a role that sought to firmly ensnare her in the machinations of his reign. Against the backdrop of political intrigue and deceptions lurking within the shadows, Melina was faced with a formidable choice. Would she succumb to the shackles of her predetermined destiny? Or would she rise above, unraveling the truths concealed by the threads of conspiracy, and forging her own path? Follow Melina's journey as her determination pushes against the constraints of societal expectations and unveils a web of hidden truths.

In the seventh year of my long-distance relationship with my girlfriend Quinn Summers, I quit my job without telling her and traveled more than six-hundred miles to Oceanton. I only wanted to surprise her and ask her to marry me. When the receptionist heard I was looking for Quinn, her expression slightly shifted. "Our CEO Ms. Summers is still in a meeting. Please wait a moment." I was surprised. Quinn had never told me she had been promoted. During our video call last week, she had even complained about how stressful work was and how far away a promotion felt. When I turned around, I heard the receptionist whispering to her coworker. "So… This is the guy Ms. Summers is keeping on the side? Seriously, he has some nerve, coming all the way to the company." "If Mr. Gomez finds out Ms. Summers is cheating during their marriage, this is going to be very bad." I was about to turn back and tell them they had the wrong person. Quinn was not married, and I was her real boyfriend of ten years. But before I could speak, a man in a black suit walked in from the revolving door. The receptionists immediately fell silent and greeted him with deep respect. "Mr. Gomez." The man was on the phone, his voice low and gentle. "Honey, I'm downstairs. You must come with me to your prenatal checkup today!" A clear female voice came through the phone, agonizingly sweet. "I know, honey. The meeting's almost over. Wait for me at the guest lounge." I had listened to that voice for seven years. I knew it far too well. It was my girlfriend, Quinn.

The dagger goes in before she understands her consort is the one holding it. ——— My consort is the one holding the blade. I fall into the Forbidden Zone with his voice in my ear — *You were never going to be the queen this kingdom needed, Rose is everything you are not* — and every stroke downward the Hollow drinks my color, my voice, my breath. As I sink through the dark I understand, in a rising tide of memory I can no longer outrun, what I refused to see: my cousin Rose has been his lover for three years. My uncle Rick has been my father's killer for seven months. I hit the Hollow's floor among the skeletons of seven women who came before me. I should die there. A black pearl pulses in the dark and asks me one question. I say yes. What rises from the Forbidden Zone is not the princess they pushed. My scales burn blood-red shot through with molten gold and piercing teal, edged in obsidian. My voice shatters coral when I choose. I can drain a merfolk's power until their scales grey to driftwood, and I can shift any being between human and merfolk form. But the pearl hungers. Black veins creep across my chest with every life I take. And the throne I want back? It was never the prize. It was the trap. ——— Will Irene become the villainess her kingdom fears? Or will she remember the girl they buried long enough to choose what kind of queen to be? And the older sister who has been waiting two hundred years to use her — what happens when Irene decides the family she was born into is not the one worth dying for?