Second Chance

I’ll admit, I went into *Second Chance* expecting a cozy, low-stakes romance, but what I got was sharper and more satisfying. The first half moves at a deliberate pace—almost *too* deliberate, as Northcote lingers on Nate’s internal monologues about disclosure and safety. There’s a scene early on where Nate debates correcting a neighbor’s pronoun slip, and the tension is so palpable I found myself holding my breath. That’s the kind of specificity that makes this audiobook stick with you. Hamish Long’s performance elevates it further; his delivery is understated but never flat, especially in the way he contrasts Nate’s sarcastic quips with the exhaustion beneath them. His portrayal of Nate’s daughter, Leah, is particularly strong—she’s a teenager with edges, not a plot device, and Long gives her dialogue the eye-rolls and half-suppressed sighs it deserves. My one critique? The middle act sags slightly under the weight of Nate’s rumination. A few more scenes of *external* conflict—maybe a showdown with a less-than-accepting villager—could’ve tightened the pacing. That said, the payoff in the final third, where Nate’s slow-burn reconnection with his childhood friend (and maybe more) unfolds, is worth the wait. The chemistry between them feels earned, not forced, and Long’s narration makes even the quietest moments—like a shared cup of tea or an interrupted sentence—feel charged with meaning. If you’re looking for a romance that balances sweetness with real stakes, or a trans protagonist whose journey isn’t defined by trauma but isn’t sanitized either, this is your book. Just don’t expect neat resolutions; expect something messier, and far more human.