Cherry Bomb

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first when I heard *another* cyborg detective story—until Jennifer Blom’s narration grabbed me by the collar in the first chapter and didn’t let go. Her Bubbles Marlowe is a masterclass in vocal texture: one minute she’s a chain-smoking gumshoe with a voice like sandpaper, the next she’s spitting out tech jargon with the cold efficiency of a machine. The duality sells the character completely. The story itself is a tight, twisty affair, with Jensen balancing a murder investigation, corporate espionage, and Bubbles’ own messy personal history without ever letting the pacing drag. The worldbuilding is immersive but never over-explained; you pick up the rules of this cyberpunk underworld through context, which keeps the listen dynamic. That said, there are moments where the plot’s reliance on Bubbles’ recklessness feels *too* convenient—she survives scrapes that should leave her scrap metal, and the villain’s motives, while compelling, hinge on a late-game reveal that might stretch credibility for some. The audio production is mostly flawless, though a few transitions between scenes could’ve used a beat more silence to let the tension breathe. Still, these are minor quibbles in an otherwise electrifying listen. Blom’s performance elevates even the weaker moments, and the final act’s emotional gut-punch (which I won’t spoil) lingers long after the credits roll. If you’re craving a mystery with teeth, a heroine who’s her own worst enemy, and narration that *sizzles*, this is your fix.