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- Title: Sleepless City: A Nick Ryan Novel
- Author: Reed Farrel Coleman
- Narrator: Peter Giles
- Length: 11:38:26
- Version: Abridged
- Release Date: 11/07/2023
- Publisher: Blackstone Audiobooks
- Genre: Mystery, Thriller & Horror, Suspense
- ISBN13: 9.78E+12
It’s rare that an audiobook pulls me in the way “Sleepless City: A Nick Ryan Novel” by Reed Farrel Coleman, narrated by Peter Giles, did – like a late-night drive through a city that never sleeps, headlights cutting through the fog of secrets. I stumbled across this gem while winding down from a long day exploring the hidden corners of New York, a city I’ve come to know through its smells (hot pretzels and exhaust), its sounds (honking cabs and distant sirens), and its stories – both whispered and shouted. The moment Peter Giles’ voice kicked in, low and gritty like gravel underfoot, I was hooked. It reminded me of a time when I was holed up in a tiny Oaxaca cantina, listening to a grandmother weave tales of restless spirits over the clink of tequila glasses. That same intimacy, that pull of a voice that knows more than it lets on, courses through this audiobook experience.
The story unfolds like a map of New York’s underbelly, creased and worn from use. Nick Ryan isn’t your typical cop – he’s the guy cops call when they’re in over their heads, a shadow figure with safe houses and secrets stashed across the city like a squirrel hoarding nuts for winter. Coleman crafts him with a soldier’s grit and a poet’s ache, a man caught between loyalty to the badge and a personal code forged in the streets. The plot moves fast – relentless, as Louise Penny puts it – dragging you through blackmail, disappearing witnesses, and moral quicksand. You can almost feel the damp chill of a Brooklyn alley or hear the echo of footsteps in an empty subway tunnel. It’s a thriller that doesn’t just keep you guessing; it makes you question who’s worth rooting for.
For me, this hit close to home. Years back, I was driving through Chile’s Atacama Desert, the landscape stretching out like a fever dream, when I first popped in “One Hundred Years of Solitude” on audio. The narrator’s voice turned García Márquez’s words into a living thing, syncing with the surreal expanse outside my window. “Sleepless City” gave me that same rush – a story so vivid it feels like you’re walking its streets. Nick’s divided soul stirred memories of a night in Lisbon, sharing caldo verde with a retired cop who’d seen too much. He told me how the job splits you in two – one half serving, the other surviving. Coleman nails that fracture, and Giles’ narration brings it to life with a weight that lingers.
Thematically, this is a dive into power and its shadows. Nick’s role as the mayor’s fixer – untouchable yet vulnerable – mirrors the tightrope walkers I’ve met in my travels, from street vendors dodging cops in Bangkok to fixers smoothing deals in Marrakech. Coleman’s New York is a character itself, pulsing with danger and possibility, its sleeplessness a metaphor for Nick’s restless conscience. The suspense builds not just from the plot’s twists but from the tension of a man who knows too much, a walking archive of the city’s sins.
Peter Giles’ performance is the heartbeat of this audiobook. His voice has that lived-in quality – think worn leather or a barstool with a permanent dent. He shifts effortlessly from Nick’s quiet intensity to the clipped tones of corrupt brass, giving each character a distinct flavor. The pacing is spot-on; he knows when to lean into a pause, letting the silence carry the weight of a revelation, much like that Oaxacan grandmother who’d stop mid-story to let the night settle around us. The audio quality is crisp, immersive – city sounds faintly woven into the background, though I’d wager that’s my imagination filling in the blanks. At just over 11 hours, it’s a journey worth taking, though I wouldn’t have minded a touch more texture in the quieter moments – maybe a raspier edge to Nick’s exhaustion.
That said, it’s not flawless. The relentless pace can leave you breathless, but it sometimes skimps on breathing room for Nick’s inner world. I wanted more of his past, those scars he carries, fleshed out beyond the hints Coleman drops. And while Giles shines, a few secondary characters blur together – voices too similar to stand apart in a crowded cast. Still, these are small gripes in a listening experience that grips you like a late-night confession.
Compared to other suspense heavyweights – say, Michael Connelly’s Bosch or Dennis Lehane’s gritty Boston yarns – “Sleepless City” carves its own lane. Bosch is a dogged loner, but Nick’s a chess player, moving pieces across a board he half-owns. Lehane paints with broader strokes of despair; Coleman zeroes in on the personal, the immediate. It’s less about the city’s soul and more about one man’s dance with its devils.
Who’s this for? If you love a thriller that’s equal parts brain and heart, or if you’re a sucker for a narrator who can turn words into a lived-in place, this is your ticket. Mystery buffs, late-night wanderers, anyone who’s ever felt the pull of a city’s hidden pulse – grab your headphones. It’s not light listening; it demands you lean in, but it rewards you with a story that sticks.
Reflecting on it now, “Sleepless City” feels like a night I spent in Havana, tracing the Malecón as waves crashed and streetlights flickered. There’s a rawness, a sense of being on the edge of something bigger than yourself. Coleman and Giles deliver that in spades – a tale of a man who’s both hunter and hunted, told with the kind of voice that makes you believe every word.
Until the next story pulls us down the road, stay curious, Marcus Rivera
