Get Over It, April Evans

About This Audiobook

*Get Over It, April Evans* isn’t just another small-town romance—it’s a razor-sharp, emotionally raw story about rebuilding when life burns your plans to the ground. April, a tattoo artist with a failed shop and a sublet lease, lands a summer gig at a lakeside resort, where she clashes (and then *doesn’t* clash) with the resort owner’s prickly, guarded daughter. What follows is a romance that’s equal parts witty banter and gut-punch vulnerability, with Ashley Herring Blake’s signature talent for writing flawed, fiercely real women who stumble into love despite themselves. The audiobook elevates this with Gail Shalan’s narration: her voice is warm but edged with sarcasm, perfectly capturing April’s defensive humor and the slow, reluctant thaw of the love interest.

The standout here is how the setting—sunbaked docks, sticky-beer bar nights, the hum of cicadas—becomes a character itself. This isn’t a romance that ignores the mess of real life; it’s about two women whose chemistry is as much about shared exhaustion as it is attraction. The audiobook’s pacing mirrors that realism: moments of laugh-out-loud dialogue (delivered with impeccable timing by Shalan) give way to quieter, almost painful introspection. If you’re tired of romances where the conflict feels manufactured, this is your antidote—a love story that earns its happy ending by first sitting with the hurt."

"review": "I’ll admit, I side-eyed the ‘grumpy/sunshine’ setup at first—how many more lake towns and forced proximities can one genre handle? But *Get Over It, April Evans* won me over by refusing to sand down its characters’ rough edges. April isn’t just ‘sunshine’; she’s a woman drowning in resentment, and Shalan’s narration makes her bitterness *funny*—like listening to your funniest, most jaded friend rant over margaritas. The love interest, too, avoids the usual ‘ice queen’ tropes; her guardedness feels earned, not performative, and Shalan gives her a voice that’s clipped but trembling with something unsaid. Their chemistry crackles in the audiobook’s quieter moments: a paused breath, a sarcastic *‘Wow, April,’* that lands like a caress.

That said, the middle act drags slightly—there’s a subplot involving April’s ex that feels undercooked, and a few scenes rely too heavily on internal monologues that slow the momentum. But the production itself is flawless: no awkward edits, no jarring shifts in Shalan’s performance (though her male voices occasionally veer into caricature). The real triumph is how the audiobook leans into the *physicality* of the story—the creak of a dock, the buzz of a tattoo gun—immersing you in a summer that’s as sweaty and complicated as the romance. By the end, I was as invested in April’s tattoo designs as I was in her love life, which is the mark of a romance that’s about more than just the kiss."

"tags": [
"queer contemporary romance audiobooks