The Lumberjack

About This Audiobook

Susan Stoker doesn’t just close her *Game of Chance* series—she detonates it. *The Lumberjack* throws a battle-hardened ex-soldier and a woman with no memory of him into a high-stakes game of survival, trust, and simmering chemistry. This isn’t your typical ‘forgotten love’ trope; Stoker laces the emotional reunion with tactical precision, turning every glance and whispered confession into a landmine of tension. The dual narration by Mackenzie Cartwright and Teddy Hamilton is a masterclass in contrast: her voice carries the raw vulnerability of a woman piecing herself back together, while his gravelly tones ground the story in the unshakable resolve of a man who’s spent years preparing for war—just not this kind.

What sets this audiobook apart is its refusal to let romance soften the edges of danger. The pacing is relentless, with Stoker weaving flashbacks into the present so seamlessly that the past feels like a ticking bomb. The lumberjack setting isn’t just window dressing; it’s a character itself, with the isolation of the wilderness mirroring the protagonists’ emotional fortitude. Listen for the way Hamilton’s voice roughens during fight scenes—or how Cartwright’s breath catches when her character stumbles upon a clue to her own history. It’s these details that elevate *The Lumberjack* from a series finale to a standalone knockout."

"review": "I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the ‘amnesia plot’ setup—until Teddy Hamilton growled the first line. His performance as the ex-special forces lumberjack (yes, that’s as delicious as it sounds) is the kind of narration that makes you forget you’re listening to a book. He doesn’t just *read* the dialogue; he *embodies* the controlled fury of a man who’s spent years protecting someone who can’t even remember his name. Mackenzie Cartwright matches him beat for beat, her delivery walking the tightrope between fragile confusion and steely determination. Their chemistry is electric, but what really sold me was how Stoker uses the audio format to her advantage: the silence between their lines crackles with more tension than most authors achieve with pages of description.

That said, this isn’t a perfect listen. The middle act drags slightly when the plot pivots to a secondary villain—his motives feel a touch undercooked compared to the razor-sharp emotional core of the romance. And while the action scenes are visceral (Hamilton’s combat grunts are *chef’s kiss*), a few transitions between past and present could’ve been smoother; I found myself rewinding once or twice to catch a shifted timeline. But these are quibbles. The final act is worth the price of admission alone, a gut-punch of a climax that had me gripping my headphones. If you love romance with teeth—where the HEA is earned through blood, sweat, and the kind of loyalty that borders on obsession—this audiobook will leave you breathless. Just maybe not as breathless as Hamilton’s voice does when he whispers, *“You’re mine, even if you don’t remember it yet.”*