Lights Out

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the virtual narration at first. No human inflections? No dramatic pauses? But here’s the thing: *Lights Out* doesn’t need them. The story’s strength lies in its razor-edged dialogue and the protagonist’s unhinged but oddly relatable worldview, and the AI narrator’s flat affect actually *works*—like a deadpan comedian delivering punchlines. The pacing is where this audiobook shines: Seabury’s prose is lean, the chapters clip along, and just when you think you’ve got the measure of the plot, she yanks the rug out. The reunion scenes, in particular, are masterclasses in cringe and tension, with alumni interactions that feel uncomfortably real (the smug tech bro, the passive-aggressive queen bee, the teacher who *definitely* shouldn’t have been invited). That said, the virtual narration isn’t without flaws. Emotional beats sometimes land with a thud—when the protagonist’s panic should spike, the delivery stays maddeningly even. And while the international crime subplot is clever, it occasionally feels like it’s jostling for space with the reunion chaos, leaving a few threads undercooked. But these are quibbles. What sticks with me is how *funny* this book is, in a dark, ‘I shouldn’t be laughing at this’ way. The yoga studio setting is inspired, the satire bites hard, and the ending? Oh, it’s *mean* in the best possible way. If you like your mysteries with a side of schadenfreude and a chaser of ‘what the hell just happened?’, this is your next listen—just maybe skip the downward dog while driving.