Monarch Audiobook – Grimstone, Book 2

I pressed play on Monarch one gray, drizzly afternoon while sorting through a pile of old letters—somehow the weather and my own nostalgia set the perfect mood for this shadow-laced tale. Sophie Lark’s second entry in her Grimstone series transported me straight into the chill and claustrophobia of a castle built for secrets rather than dreams. It was as if Elena’s story seeped from my headphones into every crevice of my Portland apartment, wrapping me up in its eerie embrace.

As someone who has always found solace among books (Elena’s “bookstore nerd” identity is instantly relatable), I felt an immediate kinship with her longing for escape and reinvention. The premise—a mail-order bride whisked away to a gothic estate by a charismatic author—echoes both classic fairytales and modern anxieties about trust, autonomy, and desire. But make no mistake: this isn’t Cinderella or Jane Eyre. Monarch takes those bones and cloaks them in psychological horror; what starts as hopeful escapism quickly becomes an unraveling nightmare.

CJ Bloom’s narration drew out all the emotional complexity of Elena: that uneasy blend of innocence, yearning, fear, and eventually fierce self-preservation. There are moments where Elena’s voice trembles with uncertainty, but also flashes when her will steels—you can hear her transformation scene by scene. Aaron Shedlock impressed me just as much: his dual performances as both Lorne (the handsome author whose charm sours) and Atlas (Elena’s unlikely protector at the Monarch hotel) are nuanced enough that even without being told you’d sense which man is speaking simply from tone alone. Lorne radiates smooth menace; Atlas exudes reluctant warmth beneath his sternness.

The strength of Monarch lies in how immersive it is—not just because of the narrators’ talents, but because Lark creates such an oppressive atmosphere around Grimstone itself. The castle isn’t only setting; it feels like another character intent on swallowing up hope. As I listened—curled safely on my couch—I kept catching myself glancing at dark corners or hearing phantom footsteps upstairs! That kind of reaction doesn’t happen often; it speaks volumes about both writing and performance.

I appreciated that while there are certainly “spicy” scenes typical of dark romance—and they’re handled with confidence—they don’t overpower Elena’s personal arc or the tension between survival and surrender. Instead, every relationship bristles with ambiguity: Is Atlas truly safe? Can anyone be trusted here? And what does it take to keep hold of yourself when love looks like captivity?

That said, this isn’t a story for everyone—it leans hard into themes that could be triggering (coercion, emotional manipulation), so listeners should heed content warnings seriously. A few plot twists did strain credulity for me near the climax; sometimes Lark seems determined to top herself on shock value rather than let quiet dread linger longer.

Still, finishing Monarch left me deeply satisfied but unsettled—the hallmark feeling I crave from any successful gothic thriller or dark romance audiobook. For fans willing to brave shadows where happy endings aren’t guaranteed until hard-won, this book is atmospheric catnip.