What makes someone run? Not jog-for-exercise run, but burn-your-identity-and-disappear-into-the-Brazilian-jungle run?
That's the question that kept nagging at me through the first few hours of White Heron. Ann Sheldon has secrets. Big ones. The kind that make a remote shack in the Amazon seem like a reasonable life choice. And honestly? I was here for it. A woman with a mysterious past hiding in the jungle? That's my kind of setup.
The Slow Burn That Actually Burns
Look, I need to address the pacing thing upfront because I know some listeners bounced off this one early. Yes, it's a slow burn. Like, slow slow. The kind where you're two hours in and still waiting for the inciting incident to fully ignite. But here's the thing—I listen to a lot of horror, and horror taught me that dread is built in the quiet moments. The waiting. The not-knowing.
JJ Marsh gets this. She's not rushing to the murder (though when it comes, it hits hard—a young local boy, violent death, the kind that makes your stomach drop). She's building atmosphere. She's letting you feel the humidity, the isolation, the way Ann is constantly looking over her shoulder. Is her past catching up? Is she paranoid? Both? That same slow-building dread worked for me in Terminal List: A Thriller, where the tension comes from watching someone with a dangerous past try to stay ahead of it.
I listened to most of this during late-night library shifts (yes, the irony of a librarian listening to a thriller about someone hiding from their past is not lost on me). The jungle setting worked perfectly in the quiet stacks. Every creak of the building became a potential threat. Shirley would've been unimpressed, but I was genuinely tense.
Jessica Preddy Understands the Assignment
Here's where I get to gush a little. Jessica Preddy's narration is—and I don't say this lightly—exactly what this story needed. Clear, warm, but with an edge underneath. She doesn't oversell the tension. She lets it simmer.
I couldn't find much about Preddy's other work online, but based on this performance? She's got range. The character voices are distinct without being cartoonish, which is harder than it sounds. Ann's internal monologue feels genuinely anxious, not performed-anxious. There's a difference, and good narrators know it.
Her delivery pacing also helps with the slow-burn structure. She's not rushing through the quieter moments, which could've made them drag. Instead, she gives them weight. You feel like you're waiting with Ann, not just waiting for something to happen.
Where It Gets Complicated
Okay, so. The ending.
I'm not going to spoil anything, but I do need to be honest: after all that careful buildup, the finale feels rushed. Like Marsh suddenly remembered she had a page count and needed to wrap things up. There are threads that feel dropped, questions that don't quite get answered. The slow burn paid off in terms of atmosphere and tension, but the resolution didn't match the setup.
Does this ruin the book? No. But it did leave me frustrated. I wanted more time with the answers after spending so much time with the questions. My podcast listeners are going to have thoughts about this one—the "satisfying ending" discourse is going to be real.
Also—and this is minor—there are a few moments that stretch believability. Not in a deal-breaker way, but in a "would that actually work?" way. I'm willing to suspend disbelief for a good thriller, but a couple of plot conveniences made me raise an eyebrow.
Who Needs This In Their Ears (And Who Doesn't)
If you need action every five minutes, skip this. Seriously. You'll hate it. But if you appreciate character-driven suspense? If you like sitting with tension and letting it build? If the idea of a woman reinventing herself in the Amazon while something dark closes in sounds like your vibe? This is your next listen.
It's not perfect. That ending is going to frustrate some people (me included, honestly). But the journey there? The atmosphere, the mystery, Preddy's performance? Worth it.
Already Eyeing Book Two
I'm curious about what else Ann Sheldon is hiding. And that's exactly what a series opener should do.
