Review: Dead Lions

Dead Lions, the second instalment in Mick Herron’s acclaimed Slough House series, deepens both the emotional stakes and the satirical bite introduced in Slow Horses. Herron takes what could have been a straightforward espionage caper and turns it into something far richer: a tense, darkly funny, and unexpectedly moving exploration of loyalty, failure, and institutional neglect.

The novel begins with what appears to be a natural death—an old Cold War operative found dead on a bus. But in Herron’s hands, nothing is ever that simple. The plot that unfolds is, on the surface, almost implausible in its complexity: dormant Russian sleeper agents, bureaucratic cover-ups, and interdepartmental manoeuvring that border on farce. Yet it all feels oddly believable. Herron grounds the high-stakes intrigue in painstaking procedural detail and, more importantly, in character. However unlikely the wider conspiracy may seem, the human motivations driving it—career preservation, pride, fear, resentment—are entirely convincing.

That truly distinguishes Dead Lions is the realism of its characters. The disgraced agents of Slough House are not glamorous operatives but bruised professionals nursing past mistakes. Their reactions to stress feel painfully authentic: frayed tempers, flashes of pettiness, gallows humour, and moments of genuine courage emerging almost in spite of themselves. When one of their own dies, the response is neither melodramatic nor stoically heroic. Instead, Herron shows grief in awkward silences, misdirected anger, and a stubborn determination to uncover the truth. The emotional fallout reverberates through the team, lending the narrative weight and texture. These are people who feel the cost of their work.

Central to the audiobook’s success is the superb narration by Sean Barrett. Barrett’s performance captures Herron’s tonal balancing act perfectly. His rendering of Jackson Lamb is a particular triumph, by turns slovenly, sardonic, and razor-sharp, while the other members of Slough House are given distinct, lived-in voices. Barrett excels at conveying subtext; a slight pause or change in cadence suggests volumes about a character’s internal state. During moments of tension or grief, he resists overstatement, allowing the emotional truth of the scene to emerge naturally. The result is an immersive listening experience that heightens both the humour and the pathos.

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Review: Fear the Past

 Fear the Past by J.M. Dalgliesh is a gripping addition to the Dark Yorkshire series, delivering a layered and emotionally resonant crime story that lingers well beyond its final chapter. Dalgliesh continues to demonstrate his strength in crafting intricate mysteries rooted in atmosphere and character, and this instalment is no exception.

At the heart of the novel Detective Inspector Caslin who commands particular attention here. The mystery itself is deftly constructed, unfolding through a web of past secrets, present dangers, and carefully placed revelations. Dalgliesh excels at showing how history refuses to stay buried, and the case develops with a steady, compelling momentum. The interconnectedness with earlier books in the series adds meaningful depth; long-running character arcs and subtle callbacks reward returning readers without alienating newcomers. The broader narrative tapestry feels deliberate and cohesive, reinforcing the sense that every event reverberates beyond a single investigation.

The audiobook narration by Greg Patmore elevates the experience even further. Patmore’s portrayal of DI Caslin is particularly striking. His delivery is measured, controlled, and almost laconic, perfectly capturing Caslin’s analytical mind and understated authority. Rather than overdramatizing key moments, Patmore allows tension to simmer, which makes the emotional beats land with greater authenticity. His character distinctions are clear without being theatrical, and his pacing mirrors the procedural intensity of the investigation. The result is an immersive listening experience that feels both intimate and cinematic.

Overall, Fear the Past is a strong and satisfying entry in the series; thoughtful in its plotting, rich in character development, and enhanced significantly by Patmore’s nuanced narration. It stands as a testament to Dalgliesh’s skill in blending procedural precision with emotional depth.

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Review: Desperate Measures

 

Convergence: Desperate Measures as an audiobook is a familiar, comfortable listen for fans of Craig Alanson, even if it doesn’t push the overall story forward as much as some might hope. The standout, once again, is the narration by R.C. Bray. Bray’s performance is polished, energetic, and full of personality; he nails the comedic timing, differentiates characters clearly, and injects just enough attitude and warmth to keep the listening experience engaging even during slower stretches.

Alanson’s trademark humour is very much on display. The banter, dry observations, and absurd situations land well in audio form, often earning genuine laughs thanks to Bray’s delivery. That said, the story itself can feel like it’s treading water at times. There’s a noticeable sense that events are being stretched out, with plot developments that circle rather than surge ahead. Because of this, the book often feels like a side-quest—entertaining and thematically consistent, but not essential to the main narrative arc.

Still, “side-quest” doesn’t mean “bad.” The characters remain fun to spend time with, the world-building continues to charm, and the pacing is smooth enough to make it an easy, enjoyable listen. Overall, Desperate Measures is a broadly positive audiobook experience, elevated significantly by excellent narration, even if it feels more like a detour than a major step forward.

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