Beauty Reborn

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes when I saw *another* *Beauty and the Beast* retelling—but *Beauty Reborn* gutted my skepticism in the first 20 minutes. Lowham’s twist? The "beast" isn’t the cursed prince; it’s *Beauty herself*, her body warping into something monstrous as she fights to reclaim her stolen agency. The audiobook’s strength lies in how unflinchingly it explores the cost of that power: scenes where she peels back her own skin to fuel spells are as horrifying as they are triumphant. Meskimen’s performance sells every ounce of pain and defiance—her voice cracks during the protagonist’s most vulnerable moments, then hardens like steel when she’s wielding her curse as a weapon. It’s a masterclass in vocal acting, though I’ll dock half a point for the prince’s voice, which occasionally veers into *too* much gravelly brooding (think Christian Bale’s Batman but with more existential angst). The pacing is where this audiobook *shines*. No meandering subplots here—every chapter either deepens the central conflict or hurls Beauty into another moral gray zone. The romance, refreshingly, isn’t the point; it’s a slow-burn side effect of two broken people learning to trust. That said, the climax feels slightly rushed compared to the meticulous buildup, and the magic system’s rules could use a touch more clarity (I still don’t fully grasp why *some* curses require blood and others don’t). But these are quibbles. For listeners exhausted by demure heroines and sanitized fairy tales, *Beauty Reborn* is a breath of rotten, beautiful air—darkly poetic, brutally feminist, and narrated with the kind of intensity that’ll have you pausing just to catch your breath.