Susan Ericksen doesn't just narrate these books—she performs an entire Broadway play inside your ear canals.
I picked this up because sometimes, even I need a break from eldritch terrors and haunted houses. I wanted a police procedural. I got... well, I got a lot of attitude. Immortal in Death is book three in the massive In Death series, and honestly? It's where the addiction starts to set in. (Yes, I know there are fifty-plus books. Don't look at me like that. I have a problem.)
The Voice That Divides the Room
Let's address the elephant in the audio booth: The Accents.
Look, Ericksen is a legend for a reason. She commits. She commits hard. But her Irish accent for Roarke? It's... a choice. Basically a Lucky Charms leprechaun who shops at Armani.
At first, I hated it. I was listening while reorganizing my occult fiction shelf at home, and every time Roarke spoke, I physically winced. Shirley (my cat) actually left the room during a particularly breathy dialogue exchange. But here's the weird thing—about two hours in, it stops being annoying and starts being iconic. You just accept that in 2058, Irish billionaires sound like stage actors.
Beyond the accents, though? Ericksen understands pacing. She knows when to speed up for the action and when to let the dread linger. She makes Eve Dallas sound exhausted and sharp, which is exactly how a homicide cop should sound. Ericksen brings that same intensity to Ceremony in Death, where Eve's emotional stakes get even darker.
When the Case Gets Personal
Usually, I critique plot armor, but this one works because it attacks Eve's one weakness: her friend Mavis.
The setup is classic noir—a dead model, a love triangle, a frame job—but because the suspect is Mavis, Eve loses her cool. And I love seeing characters lose their cool. It's messy. It's human. The "high fashion underworld" setting gives me Suspiria vibes (okay, minus the witches, but the aesthetic is there).
There's a scene where Eve is digging through the grime of New York's drug trade, and Ericksen drops her voice into this gritty, cynical register that gave me chills. It wasn't horror-scary, but it was tense. It reminded me that underneath the romance and the futuristic gadgets, this is a story about addiction and obsession.
Who's This For (And Who Should Run)
If you want cozy mysteries or hate theatrical narration, skip it. But if you're craving a binge-worthy procedural with a side of futuristic romance and don't mind accents that take some warming up to—this is your gateway drug to fifty-plus books.
Case Closed, Coffee Cold
Is it high art? No. Is it perfect? Definitely not. The romance dialogue can get cheesy enough to clog an artery. But as an audio experience, it's incredibly binge-able.
It's the kind of book you listen to while doing something mindless—commuting, folding laundry, or in my case, cataloging a stack of dusty hardcovers at the library while ignoring patrons. If you can get past the theatrical accents, you're in for a solid ride. Just maybe don't listen with the windows down if you don't want people to hear Roarke calling Eve "Darling" for the fiftieth time.
