How To Identify Strong Voice In Literature Examples As A Reader?

I've developed a fever all of a sudden. But that's when I hear the thoughts belonging to my Alpha mate, Alder Garrison, whom I've bonded to for five years. His voice is husky and attractive, and yet the tone he adapts is very unfamiliar to me. [She's pulling the pity card again. How annoying.] My breath hitches in my chest as I look up at Alder. He's in the middle of pouring me a glass of water, his gaze seemingly gentle beneath the light. His lips aren't moving at all, and yet I'm very sure that I heard his voice just now. When Alder helps me to sit up so that he can feed me the medicine, I purse my lips together before speaking up, albeit hesitantly. "Alpha Alder, I think I'm hearing things all of a sudden. Can you please accompany me to a healer's station tomorrow?" Alder is quick to envelope me into a hug and comfort me. "Shh… I'm here. You'll be fine." But his thoughts sing an entirely different tune. [Ugh… She's doing it again. Can she stop pestering me already?] I no longer utter another word. All I feel is my heart slowly going cold in despair.

Being a mute used to be simple before all the craziness started. I just can't talk and that's who I am. Mum has learned to accept that and I guess so have I. Everything was just fine in my high school in Shanghai. I had finally made it to year twelve and even though I was in China, I was actually being treated as a human being despite my disability. Things were definitely not perfect but I would give anything to go back to that, like it was before. I heard my first voice that year, right at the beginning of year 12. I didn’t really have any real friends, but I was used to it and before the voices started, I was fine with that. But it all changed when I first heard them. The voices inside their heads started then and my life was never the same. They weren't just thinking about school or they girls or guys they were into, no they were thinking about doing things, doing horrible things to each other and I was the only one that knew how messed up they really were.

The best way to live in a sinful and harsh world is to choose your battles wisely. That was what Tayla Del Mariano, a 23-year old college student knows ever since her parents died in a car crash and was forced to live in a house with owls. The girl thought that staying silent and not arguing with fools will make her life easier, and enduring everything will make her closer to her goal: To build a better life for his younger brother, Terren.She works three jobs and studies, believing that she will reach her dreams when she got fed up with her family's treatments and met Auton Smith and found out about his little secret–he was a musician hiding behind a criminology student. He happened to be her new landlord, but she didn't know that those small talks and silly acts would make her fall.Tayla only wants the best for his brother, and Auton only wants the people to hear his story through music. Auton thought that Tayla is her safe place, she's her home, for she's the only person who believes in him, until something came up which led the mute beauty's voice to howl.

Her name was Cathedra. Leave her last name blank, if you will. Where normal people would read, "And they lived happily ever after," at the end of every fairy tale story, she could see something else. Three different things. Three words: Lies, lies, lies. A picture that moves. And a plea: Please tell them the truth. All her life she dedicated herself to becoming a writer and telling the world what was being shown in that moving picture. To expose the lies in the fairy tales everyone in the world has come to know. No one believed her. No one ever did. She was branded as a liar, a freak with too much imagination, and an orphan who only told tall tales to get attention. She was shunned away by society. Loveless. Friendless. As she wrote "The End" to her novels that contained all she knew about the truth inside the fairy tale novels she wrote, she also decided to end her pathetic life and be free from all the burdens she had to bear alone. Instead of dying, she found herself blessed with a second life inside the fairy tale novels she wrote, and living the life she wished she had with the characters she considered as the only friends she had in the world she left behind. Cathedra was happy until she realized that an ominous presence lurks within her stories. One that wanted to kill her to silence the only one who knew the truth.

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to speak. Meanwhile, I stood there in the corner, listening to the whole thing until I felt sleepy and fed up. Taking a step forward, I spoke the very first words of my life.

I had always been obedient and compliant. I never dared to disobey others' instructions. The day my wealthy biological parents brought me home, my adoptive brother leaned close to my ear and sneered arrogantly, "The position of the Spencer family's heir belongs to me. If you know what's good for you, get lost on your own." I nodded obediently. Then I turned around and threw myself straight into rush-hour traffic on the highway. My parents nearly lost their minds. Panicked and trembling, they dragged me back into the car, their faces drained white with terror. My sister's expression darkened as she warned me coldly in my ear, "If you pull another stunt for attention, believe me, I'll throw you right back into the doghouse you came from." I obediently listened. That very night, I locked myself inside a dog crate. My sister froze in complete shock. Gritting her teeth, she yanked me out, staring at me like she'd seen a ghost. Later, when my adoptive brother pretended to be sick, my sister forced me to donate blood for him. I obediently took the knife. Without the slightest hesitation, I slashed straight through the artery in my wrist. By the time my parents rushed over, blood had just begun spraying out. They screamed in horror and lunged forward to press against my wound. "Somebody call 911! Now!!!" My sister had gone just as pale. After a long moment of stunned silence, she finally stammered, "Mom, Dad… I only told him to donate a little blood to Eric. I never told him to slit his wrist…" I blinked. My sister wasn't lying. She really hadn't taught me that. It was something the traffickers taught me during the five years my family personally handed me over to them—to "learn obedience."