HistoricalFiction Redemption on the River Southern

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Project Main Details

HistoricalFiction Redemption on the River Southern 
This project is an audio book for a Historical fiction book titled Redemption on the River.


It takes place along the Mississippi river so some good southern characters will be needed. It is a book filled with steamboat adventure, underground railroad mystery, and suspense of gambling.

If you could please submit a quote for the entire audio book and an audio sample from the first chapter.

2012-07-21 20:13:32 GMT
2012-07-30 17:00:00 (GMT -08:00) Pacific Time (US & Canada) 
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Project Parameters

The Voice Actor should be located in:
To be defined
380 pages
English - USA and Canada
Southern (Missouri, Mississippi, New Orleans),
Young Adult Male
• Audio files must be delivered via email OR
• Audio files must be delivered via FTP/Dropbox/Google Drive/cloud
• Deliver edited and finished voice tracks
Not defined
The voice seeker is willing to hire either union or non-union talents for this project

Script Details

*** Please submit custom audition. 
The day I killed my father began like any other on our farm in northwest Missouri. A precocious rooster announced the breaking dawn and I shivered as my bare feet hit the cold floor. I pulled on my clothes, turned to my sleeping brother, and shoved him off the bed in return for hogging the covers all night. I then slid down the ladder from the loft to the main floor of our cabin where our sister Angeline was just setting steaming platters of breakfast on the table.
“Caleb’s just going to watch all day for the chance to get you back,” she said, knowing what the heavy thump over her head had meant.
“I expect he will.”
“I don’t know why you do that to—morning, Pa.”
She broke off as our father returned from his morning constitutional. He grunted, sat down, and began to
heap food onto his plate. Angel sighed, sat down herself, and soon Caleb came down the ladder, giving me a significant look as he did so. Angel said a short blessing, and we fueled ourselves for the long day’s work ahead of us, the silence broken only by the clank of cutlery on plates.
Pa plowed his way through his food, announced that he would finish plowing our creekside cornfield, and walked out, leaving the three of us to finish the meal by ourselves. I told Caleb to help him harness our mules, then join me in digging stumps from the new field we were clearing. Angel received no work assignment, but she would busy herself with the innumerable chores of the house, yard, and garden.
I cleaned my plate, thanked my sister, and walked out myself. Ignoring the hammer-on-anvil sounds coming from the barn and oblivious to the beauty of the early June morning, I headed downhill to the new pasture we were wresting from the forest. A half-dug stump waited for me, its roots stubbornly clenched in the earth, and our tools leaned up against it where we had left them the day before.
I spat on my hands, picked up the ax, and began chopping away at a gnarled root that was thicker than my thigh. I needed to get away from this place before I became as stuck as the stump. I should have gone off on my own long before this, but I had stayed on because of my father.
Our parents had been hit hard when our littlest sister, the baby of the family, had died in an accident, and when Ma passed away the following winter the light had gone out of Pa’s life. He buried himself in work, from dawn to dusk, and the result was a prosperous farm and three offspring who wondered if they’d ever see him laugh again. Pa barely spoke, I had run the business side of the farm for some time now, and I often felt like an uncle rather than a brother to my siblings.
Sweat streamed as I attacked the root with hard, fast blows. Angel and Caleb were eighteen and seventeen now, and once this last field was cleared the farm would be in full production.
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