Camp Murder

I started listening to *Camp Murder* during a cross-country flight, expecting a lightweight thrill to distract me from turbulence. Instead, narrator X (whose name sadly isn’t listed—more on that later) turned the cabin lights down and the stakes way up. The voice work is snappy and youthful, capturing the frenetic energy of hormonal teens without slipping into cartoonish shrieks. They nail the razor’s-edge balance between creepy and campy, especially during late-night stakeouts where every rustling leaf sounds like a confession. My only quibble? The pacing stalls at the one-hour mark during a flashback scene. For about five minutes, the narration drags harder than a marshmallow roasting in damp air—uncharacteristic for an otherwise zippy listen. The mystery itself is devilishly clever, weaving together classic tropes (the bully with a secret, the popular girl’s crumbling rep) into something fresh. The water tower isn’t just a set piece; it feels like a silent character watching over the camp’s sins. By the final twist, I was gripping my phone, checking the timer to see how much longer I had until the next shocking reveal. If the audiobook’s production had credited the narrator, I’d have given this five stars without hesitation. As it stands, *Camp Murder* is a campfire tale you won’t want to sleep through—but maybe keep the lights on anyway.