The Naughty Week

I’ll admit it: I judged *The Naughty Week* by its cover—or at least its title. But within minutes of hitting play, I was hooked. Allie Rose’s narration is a masterclass in tonal control; she doesn’t just voice Ella’s inner monologue, she *becomes* it. The way she drops into a sultry purr during the steamy scenes or sharpens her delivery during the sharper exchanges is downright impressive. The story itself is a rollercoaster of glitter and guilt, with Ella’s moral compass spinning dizzily as she navigates a week of nonstop temptation. West balances the hedonism with just enough self-awareness to keep it from feeling exploitative, and the French Riviera setting is so lush it’s almost a character itself. That said, the supporting cast sometimes feels underdeveloped—Ella’s love interest is compelling but remains frustratingly opaque until the final act, and the villa’s other guests feel more like props than people. Still, the production is top-notch, with crisp audio and no jarring edits, and the ending delivers a payoff that’s earned if not entirely predictable. If you’re in the mood for a rom-com that doesn’t apologize for its own naughtiness, this is a solid pick—just don’t expect cerebral depth.