Luna

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the ‘small town with a werewolf secret’ premise—until Sarah Sampino’s Lottie Montgomery delivered the line, *“I didn’t spend seven years in vet school to diagnose *lycanthropy*,”* with such perfect deadpan exasperation that I was hooked. *Luna*’s strength lies in its narration: Sampino’s timing turns even throwaway jokes into highlights, and her ability to pivot from Lottie’s academic precision to the growling, possessive Silas is masterclass-level. The chemistry between them crackles, though I’ll warn you—Silas’s alpha-male posturing occasionally veers into overprotective territory, a trope that feels slightly dated here. The story���s first half is a slow simmer, with Frame taking her time to establish Lupine Valley’s eerie charm (the local pub’s “no pets” policy is a *delightful* red flag). But once the supernatural elements stop hinting and start *happening*, the pacing tightens into a satisfying blend of action and emotional payoff. My one critique? The pack’s internal politics, while intriguing, sometimes get lost in exposition-heavy dialogue. Sampino does her best to keep these sections engaging, but a few scenes could’ve been tightened in editing. Still, the audiobook’s production is flawless—no distracting background noise, and the subtle use of echo in outdoor scenes adds immersion without gimmickry. If you love paranormal romance with a heroine who’s as clever as she is stubborn, and a narrator who makes every sarcastic quip land, *Luna* is a full-moon-worthy listen.