Audiobook Demo

This is from Stormfront by Jim Butcher Dresden Oh, is there some Harry Dresden, the wizard? Her tone was apologetic, as though she were terribly afraid she would be insulting me. No, I thought it's Harry Dresden, the old wizard. Harry the wizard is one door down. It is the prerogative of wizards to be grumpy. It is not, however. The prerogative of freelance consultants who are late on their rent. So instead of saying something smart, I told the woman on the phone, Yes, ma'am, how can I help you today? I, um, she said, I'm not sure. I've lost something and I think maybe you could help me. Finding lost articles is a specialty, I said. What would I be looking for? There was a nervous pause. My husband. My eyebrows went up. Ma'am, I'm not really a missing person specialist. Have you contacted the police or a private investigator? No, I can't. At least, I haven't. Oh, dear, this is all so complicated. Not something someone could talk about on the phone. I'm sorry to have taken up your time, Mr. Dresden. This is from The King's Ranger by A.C. Cobble Rue moved through the forest as quiet as a falling feather. He instinctively avoided the slender sticks and the first dry leaves of autumn that scattered across his path, his tall, leather boots padded across the soil without making a mark. He passed between the branches and burrows of the trees as effortlessly as the wind. In the coming months, brittle leaves would blanket the forest floor, and such silent stalking would be impossible, even for him, but he did it now without thought. He paused. Ten yards in front of him, a small brown and gray, furried body leapt off a tree and scurried across the forest floor, a squirrel collecting acorns. Rue watched it, noting its unworried movement, and waited for it to gather its nut and vanish back up the trunk of a towering oak. When the squirrel climbed out of view, he moved again, passing unnoticed through the forest, his boots leaving no disturbance.