I don't know if it was the writer or the reader, but this one clicked! Unpredictable, maybe even random but always with a purpose; a beginning that ensnared me from page one; a middle that moved; an ending that seemed to drag on but when it was done, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
The reader--Susan Duerden --was so good she could have dispensed with 90% of the "Ingrid said" or "said the large guard" remarks. You knew who was talking without them. And how could anyone switch so effortlessly between the quiet, hesitant tones of little Rook Miffany Thomas, scared of her own shadow, to the rasping, arrogant voice of a skinless Belgian guy with a pronounced accent and a serious anger management problem...? It's beyond me. But I loved hearing it.
The only bad thing about this book is that the sequels not out until June.
Note: the reader pronounced the name Myfawny as "Miffanny". I would have tried for something idiotic like My-fawn-ie, not at all in keeping with her character. It's Welsh, which gives it excuse for idiotic spelling.
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