世界著名短篇小說有聲小說

1. 好聽的有聲小說有哪些

我本人一直在聽書，推薦幾本我自己喜歡的有聲小說有周浩輝的死亡通知單三部曲《斗破蒼穹》《救贖》《離別曲》紫金陳的高智商犯罪系列、謀殺官員系列、《長夜難眠》（刑偵推理）

天下霸唱的鬼吹燈《精絕古城》《龍嶺迷窟》共8部推薦1~2部後面的太誇張不喜歡（盜墓）
蕭鼎的《誅仙》（玄幻）
庚新的《惡漢》（穿越三國）
z大的《無限恐怖》（無限流開山之作）
靜官的《獸血沸騰》（穿越、魔幻）
還有挺多的一下子想不起來，這些小說都比較好找隨便下個聽書的app基本上都能找得到

2. 有沒有什麼好聽的有聲小說呢

好聽的有聲小說推薦如下：

1、《凡人修仙傳》

連載於起點中文網的一部仙俠修真小說，作者是忘語。小說講述了一個普通的山村窮小子，偶然之下，跨入到一個江湖小門派，雖然資質平庸，但依靠自身努力和合理算計最後修煉成仙的故事。

5、《仙逆》

《仙逆》是連載在起點中文網的一本已完結的玄幻修真小說，作者是耳根。小說講述的是一個資質平庸的少年——王林，機緣巧合下踏入修真仙途，歷經坎坷，一步一步走向巔峰，憑一己之力，揚名修真界的故事。

3. 推薦幾部你認為最好的有聲小說

古言！！！！（武俠、仙俠、江湖、重生、穿越、懸疑推理、宅斗）
男女主播都有~~~~

喜馬拉雅:
1.媚公卿 風泠版「重生」
2.紅顏亂 「架空」
3.千香引 「仙俠」
4.秀麗江山「穿越歷史」
5.女心理師之江湖斷案 「穿越」
6.醫妃難求 「穿越」
7.春日宴 「重生」
8.良陳美錦 小夜光版「重生」
9.三嫁未晚 「仙俠」
10.簪中錄 懸疑推理
雲聽app:
11.天下傾歌
12.浮屠塔
13.瓷骨
酷我聽書:
13.步步驚華懶妃逆天下 「穿越」
網頁:
14.妃池中物不嫁斷袖王爺 憂藍版 「穿越」
15.迷俠記、迷行記 「武俠」
16.大明江湖宅女記 「穿越江湖」
17.溫柔一刀、一怒拔劍、驚艷一槍、傷心小箭 「說英雄誰是英雄系列」

覺得一般的劇（聽時過癮，聽完就忘）:
喜馬拉雅:
調笑令
真人不露相
自古美人出混蛋
雙闕
執子之手將子拖走
女捕頭
綰青絲
無方少年游
淑女好逑
楚喬傳原著
香蜜沉沉燼如霜
七小姐嫁到
沉香雪
美人難嫁
天下第一嫁
幸得相逢未嫁時
美人謀律
和親公主
七夜雪
攝政王的小狼妃
祥雲朵朵當空飄
忘君九回
何處孤凰長樂未央
嬌謀職世子在上
懶人聽書:
三千鴉殺
佳偶天成
妙偶天成
斬春
權臣閑妻
帝王業
花開春暖
乘龍
………都是聽完了的，個人口味.......

4. 最著名的有聲小說有哪些

第三部：《鬼吹燈》，盜墓有聲小說

這部小說是我聽的第一部有聲小說，對他有著無限的懷念，直到今日，周建龍版的鬼吹燈依舊是我心中的經典。無論這部小說如何被翻牌成電影、電視劇，都無法和有聲小說相比。因為恐懼來自幻想，所以聽鬼吹燈比看更加刺激。
第一部：《雙宇》，科幻有聲小說

腦洞太大了，雖然它像個大雜燴，雖然裡面很多科學理論我並不認同，但依舊不能掩蓋它的鋒芒。如果說它有缺點，就是這本書埋得太深了，以至於不到最後，你根本不知道作者在寫什麼。
第二部：《王的女人誰敢動》，古代穿越有聲小說

作為喜馬拉雅出品的有聲書，肯定不是泛泛之輩。這部作品無論從文筆還是配音都相當成熟，在這個系列中屬於佼佼者。如果說它有缺點，就是題材比較老套，但作者卻把如此老套的穿越寫得很有趣味。

5. 世界著名短篇小說

THE GIFT OF THE
One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.

There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

While the mistress of the home is graally subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.

In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name "Mr. James Dillingham Young."

The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze ring a former period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was shrunk to $20, though, they were thinking seriously of contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young, already introced to you as Della. Which is all very good.

Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out lly at a gray cat walking a gray fence in a gray backyard. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling--something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.

There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered the art.

Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.

Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was Della's hair. Had the queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.

So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.

On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.

Where she stopped the sign read: "Mne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."

"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.

"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."

Down rippled the brown cascade.

"Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.

"Give it to me quick," said Della.

Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim's present.

She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation--as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value--the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.

When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends--a mammoth task.

Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.

"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do--oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?"

At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.

Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."

The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two--and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.

Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.

Della wriggled off the table and went for him.

"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again--you won't mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be happy. You don't know what a nice-- what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."

"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.

"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my hair, ain't I?"

Jim looked about the room curiously.

"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.

"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you--sold and gone, too. It's Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on, Jim?"

Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a million a year--what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.

Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.

"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first."

White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.

For there lay The Combs--the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims--just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.

But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"

And them Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"

Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The ll precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.

"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."

Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.

"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on."

The magi, as you know, were wise men--wonderfully wise men--who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of plication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. O all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.

6. 好聽的有聲小說推薦幾個吧！

我本人一直在聽書，推薦幾本我自己喜歡的有聲小說
周浩輝的死亡通知單三部曲《宿命》《救贖》《離別曲》（廣播劇，刑偵推理）
紫金陳的高智商犯罪系列、謀殺官員系列、《長夜難眠》（刑偵推理）
崔走召的命運三部曲《我當陰陽先生那些年》《我當鳥人那些年》《三途志》（鬼怪靈異）
九把刀的《樓下的房客》（恐怖短篇）
張小花的《史上第一混亂》（反穿越搞）
國王陛下的《從前有座靈劍》（玄幻搞笑。小說完結但是有聲小說各app都只有422集無奈）
蝴蝶蘭的《全職高手》（網游小說）
天下霸唱的鬼吹燈《精絕古城》《龍嶺迷窟》共8部推薦1~2部後面的太誇張不喜歡（盜墓）
蕭鼎的《誅仙》（玄幻）
庚新的《惡漢》（穿越三國）
z大的《無限恐怖》（無限流開山之作）
靜官的《獸血沸騰》（穿越、魔幻）
還有挺多的一下子想不起來，這些小說都比較好找隨便下個聽書的app基本上都能找得到

7. 介紹幾個好聽的有聲小說

我本人一直在聽書，推薦幾本我自己喜歡的有聲小說有周浩輝的死亡通知單三部曲《斗破蒼穹》《救贖》《離別曲》紫金陳的高智商犯罪系列、謀殺官員系列、《長夜難眠》（刑偵推理）

天下霸唱的鬼吹燈《精絕古城》《龍嶺迷窟》共8部推薦1~2部後面的太誇張不喜歡（盜墓）
蕭鼎的《誅仙》（玄幻）
庚新的《惡漢》（穿越三國）
z大的《無限恐怖》（無限流開山之作）
靜官的《獸血沸騰》（穿越、魔幻）
還有挺多的一下子想不起來，這些小說都比較好找隨便下個聽書的app基本上都能找得到

8. 世界著名短篇小說有哪些

(1)莫泊桑
十九世紀法國著名的批判現實主義小說家.1880年發表第一個短篇小說《羊脂球》,此後陸續寫了一大批思想性和藝術性完美結合的短篇小說,博得世界短篇小說巨匠的贊譽.他的創作廣泛而深刻地反映了十九世紀後半期的法國社會現實,無情地揭露了資產階級道德風尚的丑惡,對下層社會的"小人物"寄予同情.小說構思新穎,描寫生動,人物語言個性化,布局謀篇別具匠心.代表作有短篇小說《羊脂球》,《項鏈》等,長篇小說《一生》,《俊友》(又譯做《漂亮的朋友》等.
(2)契可夫
十世世紀俄國批判現實主義作家,戲劇家和短篇小說藝術大師.他的早期合作諷刺和揭露了俄國社會官場人物媚上欺下的丑惡面目,寫得諧趣橫生,發人深思.八十年代中期,他創作了既幽默又富於悲劇的短篇小說,反映了社會底層人民的被侮辱被損害的不幸生活,具有深刻的思想意義.代表作有短篇小說《變色龍》,《苦惱》,《萬卡》,《第六病室》,《套中人》等.
(3)歐.亨利
十九世紀末二十世紀初美國現實主義著名作家.曾被誣告罪入獄三年.後遷居紐約,專事寫作,他幾乎每周寫一篇短篇小說,供報刊發表.他一生創作了近三百篇短篇小說和一部長篇小說,對腐朽的資本主義制度,反人道的法律,虛偽的道德給予揭露和諷刺.代表作有長篇小說《白菜與皇帝》,短篇小說《麥琪的禮物》,《警察與贊美詩》等.

9. 世界十大名著有聲讀物

1．紅樓夢（又名《石頭記》） （清） 曹雪芹；
2．水滸傳 （明） 施耐庵；
3．三國演義 （明） 羅貫中；
4．西遊記 （明） 吳承恩；
5．鏡花緣 （清） 李汝珍；
6．儒林外史 （清） 吳敬梓；
7．封神演義 （明） 許仲琳；
8．聊齋志異 （清） 蒲松齡；
9．官場現形記 （清） 李寶嘉；
10．東周列國志 （明） 馮夢龍；