Audiobooks narrated by Brittney Wash

Herbert John Fleure (1877-1969) was a British zoologist and geographer. He was secretary of the Geographical Association, editor of ‘Geography,’ and served as president of the Cambrian Archaeological Association (1924-25), Royal Anthropological Institute (1945-47) and Geographical Association (1948-49). He studied at the University of Wales and the Zoological Institute in Switzerland. Returning to his alma matter in Wales, he served there as a professor until 1930, then at Victoria University in Manchester, retiring in 1944. He wrote for magazines, contributed to publications about his birthplace of Guernsey, and authored biographies of several scientists. His book, “The Peoples of Europe,” published in 1922, discussed the languages and other factors differentiating the various races of the peoples of Europe.

H. J. Fleure (Author), Brittney Wash (Narrator)

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The Wyvern mystery

The Wyvern Mystery is a 19th century gothic mystery. The story is about a young orphaned girl named Alice Maybell, her haunted past and the present dark atmosphere that makes a chilling and suspenseful tale. Joseph Thomas Sheridan Le Fanu (1814-1873) was an Irish writer of Gothic tales and mystery novels. He was a leading ghost-story writer of the nineteenth century and was central to the development of the genre in the Victorian era. M. R. James described Le Fanu as 'absolutely in the first rank as a writer of ghost stories'.

Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu (Author), Brittney Wash (Narrator)

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The Pattern of Conquest

A spectacular space opera from the golden age of science fiction. The inhabitants of Earth are invaded from outer space whom then they attempt to conquer from within. Stellar Downing, the precise and calculating flight commander of mars is a bitter rival of Clifford Lane, quick and impulsive flight commander of Venus and their rivalry is known to all three worlds of the solar combine. A classic from one of the best writers of the genre.

George Oliver Smith (Author), Brittney Wash (Narrator)

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The Ethics of Rhetoric

In The Ethics of Rhetoric, Richard M. Weaver evaluates the ethical and cultural role of rhetoric and its reflection on society. Weaver draws upon classical notions of rhetoric in Plato's Phaedrus, and he examines the effectiveness and implications of the manipulation of language in the works of Lincoln, Burke, and Milton. In this collection of essays, Weaver examines how different types of rhetoric persuade, their varying levels of effectiveness and credibility, and how one's manner of argumentation and style of persuasion are indicative of character. Ultimately, Weaver argues that the cultivation of pure language creates pure people. Initially published in 1953, The Ethics of Rhetoric remains timeless in its evaluation of rhetoric's role in society. Richard M. Weaver (1910-1963) an esteemed scholar, humanist, cultural critic, and political philosopher, revolutionized conservativism of the mid-twentieth century. Weaver's original scholarship produced groundbreaking insight on human nature and society.

Richard M. Weaver (Author), Brittney Wash (Narrator)

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The Book of Witches

Originally published in 1908, 'The Book of Witches' is a popular history and overview of witchcraft by Oliver Madox Hueffer (1876 - 1931), a prolific writer and journalist who was renowned for his sexual and other exploits. 'The Book of Witches' is not an exhaustive treatise on witches and witchcraft, treated scientifically, historically and so forth. The author endeavors to produce a picture from which a general impression may be gained. He shows whence the witch came and why, as well as what she was and is; to point out how necessary she is and must be to the happiness of mankind, and how great the responsibility of those who seek to infect others with their skepticism because they do not believe in her. Meticulously formatted by LibriAfrica

Oliver Madox Hueffer (Author), Brittney Wash (Narrator)

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The Sword of Wealth

'A week before the day set for her wedding, in a bright hour of early April, Hera rode forth from the park of Villa Barbiondi. Following the margin of the river, she trotted her horse to where the shores lay coupled by a bridge of pontoons—an ancient device of small boats and planking little different from the sort Cæsar’s soldiers threw across the same stream. She drew up and watched the strife going on between the bridge and the current—the boats straining at their anchor-chains and the water rioting between them. Italy has no lovelier valley than the one where flowed the river on which she looked, and in the gentler season there is no water-course more expressive of serene human character. But the river was tipsy to-day. The springtime sun, in its passages of splendour from Alp to Alp, had set free the winter snows, and Old Adda, flushed by his many cups, frolicked ruthlessly to the sea. Peasant folk in that part of the Brianza had smiled a few days earlier to see the great stream change its sombre green for an earthy hue, because it was a promise of the vernal awakening. Yet their joy was shadowed, as it always is in freshet days, by dread of the havoc so often attending the spree of the waters.' The sword of wealth by Henry Wilton Thomas.

Henry Wilton Thomas (Author), Brittney Wash (Narrator)

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Hunt the Hog of Joe

Although I had previously been spacesick, airsick, carsick, seasick, and sledsick, the descent to Planet Maggie was the first time I believed that Doreen, Laurinda, and Celestine would never again see me alive. How Ypsilanti, occasionally glancing at the few antiquated instruments, found Joetropolis, even in the blundering hours he took, remained mysterious. At last, I saw a clutter of buildings surrounded by a wall. The buildings expanded with dizzy speed, until the shuttle hovered less than one hundred meters above the ground. I gulped weakly at three figures pushing a long metal tube with wheels into a shed constructed in an angle of the wall. The shuttle bounced to a tail-first stop. Ypsilanti dropped a door, unreeled a chain ladder, and climbed out. 'Didn't you forget me?' I gasped. I scrambled to the first deck and almost pitched from the ship. Coarse grass with red undertones covered the field except for patches blackened by exhausts. At one border was a crude shed and a wrecked jetcopter. Cultivated areas, interspersed with patches of brush, separated the spaceport and the walls of Joetropolis. Ypsilanti ran wildly down a rutted lane toward the town. I located a hoist and lowered my four cases. I eased down the chain ladder to the hot, damp soil of Planet Maggie. Joe's Sun, red and bloated, cleared a clump of trees and half blinded me. Small purple birds jeered from the huge leaves of squat weeds along the edge of the field. Four striped, short-tailed, buck-toothed rodents scurried beneath a stump. Another sat on a discarded can and squeaked threateningly. Even in the .92 Maggiese gravity, my luggage weighed about sixty kilograms. I yanked the braided leather line from the hoist and was attempting to lash the two smaller cases into a pack, when a distant explosion agitated the still air. Two rodents ran out of the grass and vanished down a hole. As the exploding sounds climbed in pitch, I realized they were mighty grunts.

Robert E. Gilbert (Author), Brittney Wash (Narrator)

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The Forest Pilot: A Story for Boy Scouts

The November sun that had been red and threatening all day, slowly disappeared behind a cloud bank. The wind that had held steadily to the south for a week, now shifted suddenly to the northeast, coming as a furious blast. In a moment, it seemed, the mild Indian Summer breeze was changed to a fierce winter gale. The little schooner yacht that had been riding in the bay not more than a half mile from the jagged, rocky shore line, began dancing about like a cork. For a swell had come driving in from the ocean just as the wind changed, and now the two tall masts waved back and forth, bending in wide sweeps before the gale. Unfortunately for the little craft the change of the direction of the wind exposed it to the storm’s full fury. The captain, a weatherbeaten old Yankee who had sailed vessels of his own as well as those belonging to other people for forty years, was plainly worried. With a glass in his hand he scanned the shore line of the bay in every direction, occasionally giving a sharp order to the four sailors who hurried about the deck to carry out his commands. The only other persons on the yacht were a man and a boy who had been sitting together beside the forward mast when the wind changed. The man was a tall, straight figure, with the erect carriage that sinewy, muscular men who are accustomed to hard work retain well into old age. His face, with its leathery skin, which contrasted sharply with his iron gray beard, was softened by a pair of deep blue eyes—the kind of blue eyes that can snap with determination on occasion, in contrast to their usually kindly expression.

Edward Huntington (Author), Brittney Wash (Narrator)

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Audiobooks Narrated by Brittney Wash