A Curse of Ashes

Therese Plummer’s performance is the standout here, and I’ll admit I judged the book by its cover—literally—for the first 10 minutes, wondering if the narration could live up to the hype. Spoiler: it absolutely does. Plummer’s Rielle isn’t just a warrior princess; she’s a woman unraveling at the seams, and her voice cracks with emotion during pivotal moments, especially in the quieter, heart-wrenching scenes where Rielle grapples with the weight of her choices. The side characters are no afterthought either—her portrayal of a treacherous advisor drips with venom, while the gruff, no-nonsense general feels like he stepped out of a war camp. My only critique? The sheer number of viewpoint switches (we hop between Rielle, her love interest, and a godlike antagonist) occasionally left me needing a moment to recalibrate. It’s not a dealbreaker, but it’s enough to knock half a star off my rating if I’m being nitpicky. Plot-wise, Wilson delivers a gut-punch of a finale. The stakes couldn’t be higher—thrones fall, alliances shatter, and magic itself feels like a living, breathing force. Where the first two books in the trilogy laid groundwork, *A Curse of Ashes* builds a cathedral of consequence. My biggest gripe? The romance, while intense, felt rushed in the final act. The emotional payoff is there, but the transitions between battlefield chaos and tender moments sometimes felt jarring. That said, the audiobook’s production rises to the occasion, with sound design that places you right in the fray. If you’re a fan of fantasy that doesn’t shy away from moral ambiguity or female protagonists who are allowed to be both powerful and vulnerable, this is your next obsession. Just block off a weekend—you won’t want to pause.