Southern accents may be the country’s most often-attempted and least often-perfected but in Katie Crouch’s Men and Dogs, narrator Gabra Zackman gives a spot-on performance that elevates a traditional tale of a woman trying to reconcile her past and her future. From the practiced, even tone of the main character to the slow drawls of her South Carolina relatives, Zackman’s phrasings, inflections, and emphasis bring out the personalities of each character.

Crouch builds her story around Hannah Legare, who, more than two decades after her father’s mysterious disappearance from his motorboat off the coast of Charleston, is still struggling with his absence: her sex-toy business is failing, her marriage is on the brink of dissolving, and an ill-advised break-in attempt lands her in the hospital and then back to her hometown to recuperate. While she’s there, she reconnects with her brother, Palmer, who’s facing his own relationship troubles; her high-school boyfriend, his mother, and his new wife; and her mother and stepfather all of whom have very different memories of the weeks and hours leading up to her father’s disappearance.

While the story itself is classic big city girl goes home to find herself Zackman’s narration adds just the right depth: Hannah’s hardly-accented voice is a reflection of how hard she’s tried to move on from her past; her mother’s restrained intonation calls up traditional South Carolina belles; Palmer’s low drawl masks a secret he’s carried since high school; and her stepfather’s stereotypical twang imparts mood-lifting quips and wise counsel in equal part as the Legares and especially Hannah finally figure out how to put themselves back together. Blythe Copeland