Buried

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first—another brooding protagonist dragged back to his hometown? But *Buried* won me over by making Dougal Lachlan’s baggage *earned*. This isn’t some generic ‘tortured hero’ trope; his resistance to Twisted Cedars feels visceral, like he’s physically allergic to the place. Carmichael’s writing shines in the quiet moments: a diner conversation where the subtext could cut glass, or Dougal’s reaction to his sister’s wedding plans, which reads like a man watching his own life from outside his body. The serial killer plot is tight, but the real hook is how it forces Dougal to confront his own complicity in his family’s tragedies. Brian P. Craig’s performance is *almost* flawless. His voice for Dougal is perfect—world-weary but not whiny, with a dry humor that keeps the character from drowning in self-pity. Where he stumbles slightly is in the female voices, particularly Dougal’s sister, whose tone veers into overly breathy territory. It’s a minor gripe, but noticeable in a production that’s otherwise polished. The pacing is another standout: the audiobook clips along at a brisk 7 hours and 54 minutes, with no fat to trim. That said, the final act’s reveal, while satisfying, relies a bit too heavily on a character’s sudden emotional breakdown—it’s effective, but feels slightly *louder* than the rest of the book’s restrained tension. Still, for fans of crime fiction that’s as much about the killer as it is about the damage left in their wake, *Buried* delivers. Just don’t listen to it alone in the woods.