Beastly Secrets

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes when I saw another Beauty and the Beast retelling—but *Beastly Secrets* disarmed me within the first chapter. Burton’s Belle is a refreshingly pragmatic anti-heroine: she’s not here to redeem anyone, and her chemistry with the Beast (a morally ambiguous alchemist with a *very* specific skill set) crackles with tension that’s equal parts intellectual and physical. The dungeon setting isn’t just window dressing; it’s a masterclass in claustrophobic atmosphere, with Faye’s narration amplifying the damp, echoing dread of the space. Her performance is particularly stellar in the dialogue-heavy scenes, where she gives the Beast a voice that’s less growl, more gravel—like a man who’s forgotten how to speak without calculating. That said, the audiobook isn’t without flaws. The middle act sags slightly under the weight of its own lore—Burton introduces a subplot about the cure’s origins that, while intriguing, feels like it belongs in a prequel. And Faye’s pacing in these sections occasionally stumbles; she rushes through expositional chunks, as if eager to get back to the sharper character beats. But when the story refocuses on Belle and the Beast’s uneasy alliance (and the *very* creative ways they exploit each other’s weaknesses), it regains its momentum. The ending, too, is a gut-punch—ambiguous in the best way, leaving you wondering if the real beast was ever in the dungeon at all. If you’re tired of fairy tales that sand down their edges, this one’s got teeth.