The Raven Song

About This Audiobook

*The Raven Song* isn’t just another gothic witch tale—it’s a simmering cauldron of feminist fury wrapped in Victorian lace. Luanne G. Smith’s prose crackles with the kind of dark wit that makes you chuckle even as the body count rises, and Susannah Jones’ narration is the audiobook’s secret weapon: her voice drips with honeyed menace one moment, then snaps into razor-sharp precision the next, mirroring the protagonist’s own unspooling control. This isn’t a story about a witch *finding* her power—it’s about what happens when she wields it like a scalpel in a world that demands she stay stitched up tight.

What sets this apart from the gothic horror pack is its refusal to romanticize the occult. The magic here isn’t whimsical or redemptive; it’s *transactional*, with a cost that gnaws at the edges of every spell. Smith’s London feels alive—not just fog and gaslight, but a city pulsing with the grime of class struggle and the stench of male hypocrisy. Jones leans into this grit, her performance unafraid to let silences linger or words curdle, making the audiobook feel less like a reading and more like a séance you’ve stumbled into."

"review": "I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first when I saw *another* Victorian witch story—until Susannah Jones’ voice slithered into my earbuds like smoke under a door. Her narration is *masterclass* level: she doesn’t just *read* the snarky asides of our witch protagonist, she *weapons* them, turning every barb into a little dagger thrown at the patriarchy. The production quality is flawless, too—no awkward edits or volume jumps, just a seamless descent into Smith’s eerie, morally murky world.

That said, the pacing stumbles in the middle. Smith’s world-building is rich, but there’s a stretch where the plot meanders through political intrigue that, while thematically relevant, feels like it’s marking time before the real horror kicks in. And while Jones’ performance is stellar, her upper-crust male voices occasionally blur together, losing some distinction in crowded dialogue scenes. Still, when the story *lands*—like the grotesque, visceral climax—it’s unforgettable. This isn’t a cozy witch tale; it’s a story about what happens when women stop asking for permission to burn the world down. If you like your gothic horror with teeth and a side of feminist rage, this is your next obsession."

"tags": [
"dark feminist fantasy