Page 1 of Axe-Rated Lumberjack

Chapter 1

“Ask me nicely, Drake, and I might let you touch me.”

I listened to the playback and frowned. I’d delivered the line as though Isadora were warning someone not to touch an expensive museum exhibit.

That wouldn’t do.

I pulled the manuscript closer, made a quick pencil mark beside the dialogue, and recorded it again. This time, I let the challenge soften into something considerably more tempting.

Much better. Drake Cinderhide might be a cursed dragon-shifter with an enchanted axe and an impressive collection of muscles, but Isadora Sapwood wasn’t about to let him have his way without enjoying herself first.

I saved the take and slipped off my headphones.

Through the window beside my desk, morning sunlight spilled across the red and gold maples surrounding my rented cottage. A squirrel scampered along the porch railing, apparently furious about something. The little tyrant reminded me of my neighbor back in Minneapolis, who’d once complained that I laughed too loudly while recording a romantic comedy.

I’d chosen Maple Lane Falls after two evenings of researching picturesque mountain towns and scrolling through rental listings. Most of the properties had fireplaces, spectacular views, and absolutely nowhere suitable to record an audiobook. Finding this little cottage, with its thick curtains, carpeted back bedroom, and plenty of space for my portable acoustic panels, had felt like winning the lottery.

I could have recorded A Bond of Bark & Flame in my home studio in Minneapolis, of course. But after staying up until two in the morning reading the manuscript, I’d been convinced this romantasy could be something extraordinary. I wanted to give Isadora everything I had, and spending a few days surrounded by the kind of forest she inhabited seemed like an excellent place to start.

My phone buzzed beside my cooling tea.

BRIDGET MADSEN — FOLIO SOUNDWORKS flashed across the screen. I’d saved my production manager’s number under her full name after accidentally calling her while trying to order Thai takeout. Neither of us had enjoyed the resulting conversation.

I answered and reached for my recording notes. “Good morning! I’ve just finished Isadora’s confrontation with Drake. Do you want me to send you the sample now, or wait until I’ve completed the chapter?”

“Send it when you can.” Her voice sounded unusually strained. “But we’ve got a much bigger problem. Our male narrator just quit.”

I stopped reaching for my pencil.

“You’re kidding. What happened?”

“He finally read the explicit chapters.”

I closed my eyes.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“Pretty much my response, although mine involved a few additional words I’m not proud of. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate the level of detail.”

“But he had the full manuscript. And the content advisory.” I glanced at the highlighted pages beside my keyboard. “What exactly did he think he was signing up for?”

“Something considerably less enthusiastic about dragon anatomy, evidently.”

I took off my glasses and rubbed the bridge of my nose. I’d worked with Bridget for three years, and I’d never heard her sound this close to strangling someone.

“Please tell me you’ve already got a replacement.”

“I’ve been on the phone since seven. Everyone qualified is booked, traveling, or unable to commit to Sunday’s deadline. Oliver’s looking at his talent contacts, but I wanted you to hear it from me before somebody sent you a panicked email.”

That was one of the reasons I liked working for Bridget. She treated her narrators like professionals rather than interchangeable voices attached to a recording schedule.

Unfortunately, professional courtesy wasn’t going to produce a replacement dragon.

“Could we move the delivery date?”

“I’ve asked. The production team has a little room for editing and mastering afterward, but they need the male recordings by Sunday. If we miss that handoff, we start knocking over other deadlines.”

I glanced at the neatly organized folders on my laptop. Most of Isadora’s chapters were already finished, including the emotional scenes I’d spent hours getting just right.