Wounded Souls

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at first. *Another* brooding protagonist running from their past? But *Wounded Souls* won me over by making Ashlee’s avoidance feel painfully real—not just through her snark (which Dawe nails with a therapist’s precise enunciation) but in the way she weaponizes her intelligence to keep people at arm’s length. The ranch setting, where she takes a job as a temporary counselor, could’ve been a tired trope, but Nolan uses it to force Ashlee into close quarters with characters who call her out without pity. The romance with the ranch owner’s daughter, Rey, unfolds in stolen glances and loaded silences, and Dawe’s performance makes their chemistry crackle even when they’re barely speaking. That said, the pacing stumbles in the middle. Ashlee’s flashbacks to the incident in Boston are doled out *too* sparingly, leaving her guilt feeling abstract until the final act. And while Dawe’s voice work is stellar, her male characters occasionally blur together—distinguishable, but not as vivid as the women. Still, the payoff is worth it. The climax hinges on a therapy session that’s equal parts devastating and cathartic, and Dawe’s delivery had me pausing the audiobook just to sit with it. This isn’t a fluffy escape; it’s a story about the messy, non-linear work of healing, wrapped in a romance that earns its happy ending. Perfect for listeners who like their love stories with a side of existential dread—and a dog who steals every scene he’s in.