Every Way Back to You (Book One of The Home We Make Series)
Simon Garbutt for Rowan Hale (British Accent - Kent)
Rowan Hale (British Accent - Kent)
Rowan is a secondary school history teacher, thirty years old, living in Tunbridge Wells. He's quiet, methodical, and deeply self-contained; the kind of person who notices everything and says very little. He's genuinely warm with the people he trusts, but that circle is small and hard to get into. He wears glasses and tends toward a neat, understated appearance — someone who takes quiet comfort in order and routine.
His narrative voice is slower and more internal than Eli's. He processes things carefully, often sitting with feelings long after he should have said something. His humor surfaces rarely and only around people he trusts, but when it does, it lands with sharp precision.
He gives everything to the people he loves and almost nothing to himself. This is both his defining quality and his central wound. He's not weak. He's someone who has learned to make himself small and is only beginning to understand he doesn't have to.
His chapters carry the emotional weight of the story. A narrator who can hold that interiority without pushing it will serve him well.
- british (estuary)
- adult
- audiobook
- male adult
- narration
- gentle
- Soft Spoken
(quiet and internal; lighter tone): When that happened, it was easier to focus on the mundane. School routines, essays, my students, structure. Because when I let my thoughts linger too long on Eli, an old ache crept in. The kind that came from years of wanting something I couldn't have.
(mid intensity, controlled anger): Marcus drugged me. Raped me. And he thought he could just walk away from it. He thought I wouldn't fight back, that I'd stay quiet and let him win. That might have been true a few months ago. But not today.
"high intensity, panic and fight response): I didn't need to see him. I knew that grip. Panic threatened to take over, but I didn't try to fight his hold. I already knew that wouldn't work. Instead, I fumbled with the canister, tore it out of my pocket, and aimed it blindly over my shoulder. A harsh blast hissed next to my ear, followed by a strangled yell.