I was sitting on my floor at 11 PM, trying to convince Shirley (my cat, not the author) that she had already been fed, when I decided I needed something... loud. Not "chainsaw massacre" loud—which is usually my speed—but "emotional vampire angst" loud. I spend my days shelving quiet books in a quiet library, so sometimes at night, I need a narrator to scream feelings into my ear.
Enter Eternal Kiss of Darkness.
Look, I usually prefer my vampires terrifying. I want them to ruin your life, not take you to dinner. But Jeaniene Frost occupies this weird, fun space where the monsters are dangerous and dateable. And honestly? I had a glass of wine, the lights were off, and I was ready for some ancient Egyptian vampire drama.
Tavia Gilbert Goes Full Throttle
Let's talk about Tavia Gilbert. If there's one thing I respect more than anything in audiobooks, it's commitment. Tavia Gilbert commits. She doesn't half-ass the emotions. When characters are in pain, she sounds like she's actually bleeding. When they're angry, she snarls.
(Yes, I know some people prefer the "unbothered observer" style of narration. Those people are wrong. This is a romance about a 4,000-year-old vampire. Give me the melodrama.)
However—and we have to address the elephant in the recording booth—the accents.
If you've listened to the Night Huntress series, you know about Bones. His accent is... a choice. It's a very specific, very thick Cockney flavor that some listeners absolutely adore and others find about as pleasant as a wooden stake to the eardrum. In this book, he's a side character, but when he pops up, you notice.
On the flip side? Her Vlad is fantastic. He sounds exactly like a Romanian warlord should—arrogant, rolling his R's, dripping with disdain. I literally laughed out loud at his delivery. If you want more of Gilbert doing historical accents with that same theatrical commitment, Fall of Marigolds showcases her range without quite as much scenery-chewing. So if you're sensitive to accents that chew the scenery, maybe sample this first. If you're like me and think "more is more," you'll be fine.
A 4,000-Year-Old Vampire Who's Just Done
Here's the thing about Mencheres: He's tired. He's ancient, he's powerful, and he's just done with everyone's nonsense. I relate to this deeply. (Don't tell my library patrons.)
Usually, the "I'm so old and tormented" trope makes me roll my eyes—it's very 2005 emo—but Frost makes it work because Kira is so remarkably grounded. She's a PI. She sees a warehouse full of weird noises and, against all survival instincts, goes in. Is it smart? No. Is it the kind of bad decision-making that fuels good horror? Absolutely.
The dynamic here is solid. It's not just "oh, he's hot." It's life-or-death stakes. Mencheres is literally rotting from the inside due to some dark magic feud (relatable), and Kira is the only bright spot. The pacing is tight, mostly because Frost doesn't let them breathe. Crisis after crisis.
Gilbert also narrates Once Burned, another Frost book where she gets to play with that same vampire angst—this time with Vlad as the lead.
My only major gripe? The ending.
I was washing a wine glass, listening intently, and then—bam. It stopped. I actually tapped my phone screen because I thought the app crashed. It felt like the author hit a word count limit and just typed "The End." It wraps up, sure, but it feels like running into a brick wall at sixty miles an hour.
Who's This For (And Who Should Run)
If you want subtle, literary fiction—go away. If you need your vampire romances served with theatrical narration and zero chill, this is your jam. Skip it if accent work makes you twitchy or if you need your endings to actually land.
Shirley's Verdict (And Mine)
Is this high art? No. Is it a perfect distraction from the encroaching void? Yes.
Shirley the cat was unimpressed by the romance, but she fell asleep during the action scenes, which is high praise from her. Tavia Gilbert's performance is theatrical, emotional, and occasionally polarizing, but she keeps the energy up. Just be prepared for that abrupt ending—it'll give you whiplash.
