Audiobook Sample

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Dear fellow wanderers and story-seekers,

The first time I heard the opening lines of “Descent”, I was driving through the winding roads of the Colorado Rockies, where the novel is set. The mountains loomed around me like silent witnesses, just as they do in Tim Johnston’s haunting narrative. There’s something about listening to a story of disappearance in the very landscape where it unfolds that makes the experience visceral – you don’t just hear the story; you feel the thin air, the crunch of snow underfoot, the weight of silence between desperate shouts. This is the power of “Descent”, amplified tenfold by the exceptional narration of R. C. Bray and Xe Sands.

Johnston’s novel is a masterclass in suspense, but it’s also a deeply human story about how grief reshapes a family. When Caitlin vanishes during a morning run in the mountains, her family – father Grant, mother Angela, and younger brother Sean – are left to navigate the chasm between hope and despair. The story unfolds like a high-altitude trail: unpredictable, fraught with tension, and breathtaking in its emotional vistas. As someone who’s spent years documenting stories of loss and resilience in remote corners of the world, I recognized the authenticity in Johnston’s portrayal of a family unraveling. The way Grant channels his helplessness into a relentless search reminded me of fathers I’ve met in the Andes, their faces lined with the same desperate determination.

The dual narration by Bray and Sands is nothing short of brilliant. Bray’s voice carries the ruggedness of the mountains and Grant’s raw, aching resolve. There’s a scene where Grant confronts a local sheriff – Bray’s delivery turns a simple exchange into a gut-punch, his voice cracking just enough to reveal the father beneath the fury. Sands, meanwhile, captures Angela’s quiet disintegration with heartbreaking subtlety. Her narration of Angela’s solitary moments – staring at Caitlin’s untouched bedroom, mechanically preparing meals – had me pulling over to catch my breath. It reminded me of those evenings in Oaxaca, where the grandmother’s stories could silence a room with just a pause. Sands understands the power of silence as much as words.

Johnston’s prose is both lyrical and precise, a combination that shines in audio format. His descriptions of the Colorado wilderness are so vivid you can almost feel the pine needles under your fingers, hear the distant rush of a creek. The novel’s structure – shifting between family members and timelines – could feel disjointed in less skilled hands, but Bray and Sands weave these threads together seamlessly. The climax, which I won’t spoil here, is a narrative avalanche that left me sitting in my parked car long after it ended, the weight of it settling in my chest.

If there’s any criticism to be made, it’s that the novel’s deliberate pacing might test some thriller fans. This isn’t a breakneck whodunit; it’s a slow, painful excavation of how tragedy reshapes lives. But for listeners who appreciate psychological depth – think Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road” or Lehane’s “Mystic River” – the payoff is immense. The audio production enhances this, with subtle sound design (the echo of footsteps in an empty house, the whisper of wind through trees) that never overwhelms the narration.

For those who’ve experienced loss, “Descent” will resonate deeply. It captures the surreal limbo of not-knowing, the way grief carves canyons between people even as it should bring them together. As a traveler, I was struck by how Johnston uses the mountain setting – both beautiful and treacherous – as a metaphor for the journey grief forces upon us. There are no easy paths here, no clean resolutions, just the relentless forward motion of survival.

R.C. Bray and Xe Sands don’t just narrate this story; they inhabit it. Their performances are so nuanced that I found myself forgetting I was listening to a production rather than overhearing real lives. It’s the kind of audiobook that lingers, like the echo of a shout across a valley. Whether you’re a longtime audiobook lover or new to the format, “Descent” is a journey worth taking – just maybe not alone in the mountains at night.

With stories in my pack and miles to go,
Marcus Rivera