Categories: Adult, Romance, Small Town Romance, Social Media Influencer, Contemporary
Disclaimer: **I received this book free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.**
Thank you to Berkley for giving me a chance to read this eARC in exchange for an honest review!
A grumpy lobster fisherman tosses a fashion influencer’s impeccably curated life overboard in the next romantic comedy from international bestselling author Amy Lea.
In a last-ditch effort to rescue her brand from the brink of irrelevance, Boston fashion influencer Melanie Karlsen finds herself in a rural fishing village on the east coast of Canada. The only thing scarier than nature itself? The burly and bearded bed-and-breakfast owner and fisherman, Evan Whaler—who single-handedly disproves the theory that Canadians are “nice.”
After a boating accident lands Evan unconscious in the hospital, Mel is mistaken for his fiancée by his welcoming yet quirky family, who are embroiled in a long-standing feud over the B&B. In a bold attempt to mend family fences, Mel agrees to fake their engagement for one week in exchange for Evan’s help with her social media content.
Amid long hikes and campfire chats, reeling in their budding feelings for each other proves more difficult by the day. But is Mel willing to sacrifice her picture-perfect life in the city for a chance at a true, unfiltered love in the wild?
Content Warning: mention of parental abandonment, parental death, depression
+ I didn’t read the first book in this series yet but I read book two and loved it. So when I was offered to join the book tour for this book I was excited to do it. Amy Lea is fast becoming a must-read author for me.
+ Evan is grumpy and I can’t say Mel is actually miss sunshine but she is confident, she’s a go-getter and the two of them do not hit it off at first. Which makes this story so fun! The story is set in a small fishing town where everyone knows everyone but the people are nice and it’s the first time Mel gets to feel a sense of community and family in her life. Evan’s family drama is a big part of the story which leads to a fake dating/engagement scenario.
+ The romance is fun because Evan and Mel do not get along but there is something brewing underneath the surface of their arguments. When they finally do something about it, the scenes are sweet and spicy. I like that Mel is a social media influencer and we get to see her perspective on her job – which people thing isn’t a job, but through Mel we do see it is work, no matter how frivolous some people find it to be. I also like that Mel isn’t perfect but is always striving for perfection because of her job to be on social media and how Evan shows that he likes her even in her most natural state.
~ It’s insta-love. Evan and Mel barely know one another and she’s at this airbnb for only a week.
~ I felt like Julian’s story wasn’t really complete. He is Mel’s brother and mental health and depression are tied to his story. He gets introduced to us in the beginning and then barely anything throughout the story, except for Mel’s thoughts about him, then everything is okay for him at the end. I did like the themes about family – for Mel it was Julian and Evan has his close cousin, Lucy and then his family drama.
My Thoughts:
I thought this was a cute, small town romance with grumpy and sunshine characters who start off as enemies and move onto lovers…kind of fast! There romance is a bit spicy and sweet which was nice. I liked the themes of family and Mel finding a place that she could experience family and community and I also appreciated her confidence. Overall, I didn’t love this as much as Exe’s and O’s but it was still an entertaining read. I look forward to reading more from this author!
Amy Lea is the international bestselling author of romantic comedies for adults and teens, including Mindy Kaling’s Book Studio selection Woke Up Like This. Her acclaimed works have been featured in USA Today, Entertainment Weekly, Cosmopolitan, Elle Magazine and has been long listed as a CBC Canada Reads finalist. They have also been optioned for film and sold to over a dozen foreign territories.
When Amy is not writing, she can be found fan-girling over other romance books on Instagram (@amyleabooks), eating potato chips with reckless abandon, and snuggling with her husband and two goldendoodles in Ottawa, Canada.
Readers who love books about books will fall for Erin La Rosa’s latest rom com—a friends (with benefits)-to-lovers story about a romance author who’s never been in love, and needs to find out why before her next manuscript is due! For fans of BY THE BOOK and BOOK LOVERS.
Romance author Sophie Lyon’s ironic secret just went viral: she’s never been in love. Though her debut novel made readers swoon, Sophie’s having trouble getting her new characters to happily-ever-after, and she blames it on her own uninspired love life. With a manuscript deadline looming, Sophie makes an ambitious plan to overcome her writer’s block: reunite with her exes to learn why she’s never fallen in love—and document it all for her millions of new online followers. Which also means facing her ex-girlfriend Carla, the one person Sophie could have loved.
Luckily, Sophie’s reclusive landlord, Dash Montrose—a former teen heartthrob—has social media all figured out and offers to help. But he doesn’t mention that he’s an anonymous online crafter, a hobby that helps him maintain his sobriety. No one knows about his complicated relationship with alcohol and he intends to keep it that way. His family is Hollywood royalty, so Dash has to steer clear of scandal.
As Sophie and Dash grow closer, they discover a heat between them that rivals Dash’s pottery kiln. But Sophie needs to figure out who she is outside her relationships, and Dash isn’t sure he’s stable enough for the commitment she deserves. So Sophie suggests what any good romance author would: a friends-with-benefits arrangement. Surely a casual relationship won’t cause any trouble…
Book Excerpt
Sophie Lyon was not in a good place.
More specifically, she’d had one (or three) too many the night before. So instead of falling asleep on her bed, she was lying on the couch with a paperback book as a makeshift pillow. Her legs were tucked up in the fetal position inside her billowy dress. And as she licked her lips, she tasted vodka and fried chicken, which she didn’t remember drinking or eating.
She attempted to open her eyes, but her lashes stuck together from the makeup she’d forgotten to remove the night before. With the help of her index finger and thumb, she managed to peel one lid open. White-hot summer light poured in through the arched living-room window and her mint green walls, a color she’d specifically chosen for its soothing properties, were mockingly chipper.
But even more unsettling was the book on the coffee table directly in front of her, Whisked Away. Sophie’s first published book. She closed her one good eye and wished she’d never opened it.
Her mom had always dreamed about Sophie filling an entire bookshelf with all her titles, the years of working multiple day jobs while tinkering on romance books finally worth the struggle. But, as it turned out, Whisked Away would be Sophie’s one and only book. Had she known she’d be a one-hit wonder, she wouldn’t have ordered the little placard for her writing desk: Ask Me about My Tropes.
The worst part was that she had sold a follow-up book—or, at least, a pitch plus the first three chapters—but she hadn’t been able to finish The Love Drought (a title so tragically similar to her own personal problems that it made her cringe). She’d been given multiple extensions but missed all of them. And, per her contract, her publisher had the right to terminate their deal if those deadlines weren’t met. But no matter how many drafts she started, Sophie couldn’t find her way to the happily ever after that all romance books promised and that she loved.
The phone call with her agent started with We need to talk… and ended with You have six weeks to finish this book or your contract, plus the advance, will be taken back.
She’d spent most of that advance, though, along with the royalty checks that grew smaller and smaller as interest in her last book waned. She needed money from turning in the next book if she wanted to continue paying for things like food or a place to stay.
She should’ve seen the implosion coming. Her horoscope had warned that the entire month of June would be bad for important communication. But the damage was done: Sophie was a romance author with writer’s block, and in six weeks’ time, she’d lose her publishing deal.
So she’d done the only thing she knew would make her feel better: called Poppy. And her best friend had suggested a night out at their favorite downtown karaoke bar to drown away the loud whir of failure.
She cautiously sat up, then settled her feet into the woven jute rug. Her legs were as firm as Jell-O when she stood. Still, she managed to make it to the hallway mirror, where she saw that her normally side-swept curtain bangs had morphed into Medusa, snakelike tendrils across her forehead, and she had more flakes on her face than her pet goldfish had in his bowl.
She cringed. Rain Boots. Her goldfish was twelve years old and the longest relationship she’d ever had. She planted her hand on the wall for support and shuffled over to her bedroom where a large glass fishbowl sat on her bedside table. Rain Boots swam in the exact middle and blinked at Sophie with large accusatory eyes.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Sophie croaked out. “I know we have our bedtime routine, but Mommy got horribly drunk.”
She tapped the glass with her index finger and waited for a response, but none came. Eventually the silence broke when her doorbell loudly ding-donged and caused her to jump in surprise. The next, and bigger, surprise came when she made her way to the front door and saw her landlord waiting on the porch.
Dash Montrose wasn’t a tall man, but he had presence. Part of that was because he always seemed to be fidgeting—tapping his fingers, shifting his feet, or pacing slightly—but also, he had thick arms with swirling, inky-black tattoos.
It’s not that Sophie had stared at those arms in prior instances but…well, yeah, she probably had.
Still, her first instinct was to hide behind the couch because what the hell was Dash doing there? She and Dash lived next door to each other, but they were not close. In fact, Dash hardly ever acknowledged her existence. He lived in the large house tucked behind her bungalow, but he was always walking away in some kind of a hurry. If she waved, he only ever nodded back. She didn’t think he was intentionally being a jerk, but he clearly had no interest in interacting with her. They hadn’t spoken actual words to each other in at least a few months. She Venmoed him the rent, and sometimes he left a thumbs-up in response. That was the extent of it.
But there he was, in jeans and a T-shirt. What could he want? Did he somehow know her funds were about to run out and he was preemptively evicting her? Sophie avoided confrontation at all costs, but she couldn’t run away from him, not when his face was pressed against the window of her door and he was peering directly at her. She clutched her arms across her chest, extremely aware that she was still dressed in her clothes from the night before, as she made her way to him.
When she opened the door, she was hit not only with the heat from the high sun above but by the sight of Dash’s wet hair slicked around his face. Water trickled down his neck and splotched his faded shirt, like he’d come straight over from a shower. Which meant a few minutes prior he’d been totally naked, covered in soap and water and…
“Hey, uh, whoa.” His voice cut through Sophie’s thoughts. When she glanced up, Dash gave her an uneasy expression, then gestured down the length of her. “What happened…”
She never left the house without a minimum of tinted moisturizer, but of course Dash came on the one day where she closely resembled a Madame Tussauds wax statue melting in the sun. Sophie gently swiped her index finger under her eye, and it came back coated in black liner. Excellent.
“Vodka happened,” she muttered.
She rubbed the liner between her fingers. Something was wrong. Mercury must’ve been in retrograde. If thirteen-year old Sophie had known that she would be renting a place from Dash Montrose—former teen heartthrob movie star turned still hunky landlord—and he was seeing her hungover…she’d be even more embarrassed than she already was. And she’d probably also be delighted. Because Sophie had maaaybe had a photo of him from a magazine cover on her wall when she was growing up. His film Happy Now? was her all-time favorite movie.
She absolutely did not have a crush on adult Dash, though. Well, he was undeniably hot. No point in glossing over that thick, dirty-blond hair, the dimple in his chin, or any of the other tatted-up details. But he was Poppy’s brother and so off-limits that Sophie had built a wall around Dash in her mind. Though bits of the wall appeared to crumble at the sight of his strong jaw and the dark circles under his eyes that made him all the more mysterious to her.
“Poppy asked me to come check on you. She said you weren’t answering your phone.” He glanced behind her, as if searching for a potential thief holding her cell hostage.
“My Poppy?” Sophie had worked at Poppy’s spa, Glow, for years—one of the many day jobs she’d had before quitting to write full-time. Though, now that she had endless writer’s block, she might have to beg for her old job back.
“She’s my sister, so she’s technically our Poppy.” His hands landed in the pockets of his jeans.
Sophie looked behind her to where the phone usually was, and blessedly, while she’d been drunk enough to use a book as a pillow, she’d been just sober enough to plug in her phone. She rubbed at one of her throbbing temples and walked over to her desk, grabbed her phone, then held down the power button and watched the white icon flash back.
As she waited for the phone to boot up, she walked back toward Dash.
“Okay, she wants me to tell you that there’s a video of you going viral?” Dash gestured to his phone, which made his forearm flex and Sophie’s eyes widen in response.
She tried to process what he’d said. She needed an intense boost of caffeine—maybe a matcha—to be able to comprehend the words coming out of his mouth. “A video?”
“I don’t know, she said you needed to see it. And that I needed to make sure you saw it.” He shrugged, but the small motion lifted the edge of his shirt up just enough for Sophie to catch a glimpse of his boxers.
Sophie didn’t want to be impolite—Dash was Poppy’s older brother, after all—but what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t so much as look at a candle shop without rushing in to buy one. Dash was the male equivalent of fresh beeswax. She was definitely staring.
Just then, her phone erupted in a series of pings, vibrations, and what sounded like one deafening goose honk. If she owned pearls, she’d be clutching the hell out of them. The screen filled with notifications—emails, texts, missed calls, and push notifications from Instagram—but she pulled up Poppy’s text conversation first.
Soph, are you up?
It’s 10. You never sleep this late.
I’m at work, ARE YOU OK
I’m sending Dash over.
YOU’RE NOT DEAD! YIPPEE!
OK, here’s the vid. Don’t freak out!
Dash’s phone pinged too, he looked down, then sighed. “Did you get it?” He sounded a little irritated.
Sophie frowned at the blurry thumbnail of a woman, but clicked the link, which sent her to the TikTok app. Then, almost immediately, she saw herself reflected on the screen. The video was taken at the karaoke bar, and Sophie was the main event. She stood onstage as the undeniable background music to Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” played. She had requested that song, hadn’t she? The small pieces of her lost-memory puzzle began to click into place.
Only, in the video, she was sobbing, with tears running down her cheeks, as she gazed wild-eyed into the crowd. Poppy ran onto the stage and attempted to coax Sophie off, but Sophie grabbed the mic and shouted, “I’ve never been in love, okay?!” Her voice so angry and vehement that she appeared to be deranged. The person holding the phone zoomed in at that exact moment to capture Sophie’s grimace as she shrieked out, “Love isn’t real!” Then Poppy yanked the mic out of Sophie’s hand and dropped it for her. End of video.
“Stop, stop, stop!” The words screeched out of her as she furiously poked the screen to try and delete the video. Then she remembered this was not her video—someone else had uploaded it. Eventually, her eyes drifted down to the caption, which read Relatable! The video had over two hundred thousand views and thirty thousand likes.
“Oh my holy hot hell.” She was a writer but could not think of any other words in that moment. Her mind raced at the thought of hundreds of thousands of people watching her have a public meltdown and liking it.
Normally, Sophie was an optimist, but after the last twenty-four hours, she was beginning to understand the appeal of pessimism. Her hand instinctively went to her chest and her fingers tap-tap-tapped at her pacemaker—something she always did to steady herself—as she scrolled through the comments and saw that not one but multiple people had recognized her.
Sophie Lyon is FUN
Sophie Lyon is secretly unhinged and it’s sending me
I hated her book, but I like this?
“Just breathe.” Then Dash’s hand was on her back, steady and warm, which momentarily distracted her, but not for long.
The heat outside had intensified to Palm Springs–level boiling and caused Sophie to break out in either hives or a rash. She furiously clawed at her throat with her free hand. She walked away from Dash and down the porch steps. Her bare feet hit the cool blades of grass in her yard, and when she looked up, the iconic Hollywood sign perched in the Santa Monica Mountains shined pearly white in the distance. Seeing those letters from her yard every morning used to make her feel closer to the success she so deeply craved, but now she felt buried under the weight of its implied expectations.
She stumbled, and Dash was next to her within seconds, holding her steady. He grabbed her elbow with one hand, and the other wrapped around her waist to cup her hip. His skin was warm against her, even through her dress. Her stomach flipped, probably from the lingering alcohol. “Sophie, you really need to sit. You look like you’re about to faint—”
The sound of her phone pinging cut him off. And when she looked down, a familiar name flashed across the screen. Carla. Sophie stopped scratching her throat. Her ex. The woman who had single-handedly led her on for close to a year. A year in which Sophie could feel herself beginning to fall head over heels, and then… Carla had ended it and dragged their relationship to the trash. Sophie stared at Carla’s name, and the text underneath, which read Saw the video… As in her ex had seen the video of Sophie having a full-on meltdown.
It was at this moment that she tilted her head back, let the punishing sun burn her eyes, and shouted as loudly as she physically could. When she eventually stopped screaming, her head felt light. The edges of her vision blurred with the realization that she had nothing left, her life was over, and she was completely mortified.
“Seriously, Sophie? My ears are ringing.”
Sophie was so focused on her own humiliation that she must’ve forgotten that Dash was right there.
“Are you on something?” Dash asked.
Sophie frowned. No, she was not on something. She may have been braless, hungover, and hanging by a thread emotionally, but what kind of an accusation was that?
And even if she were on ayahuasca and beginning to see rainbow caticorns encircling her feet—which sounded great, actually—what she did with her body was absolutely none of his business. She paid her rent on time. This was her place. He was the one who’d come bounding over, all wet and wearing a too-tight shirt, and now he had the nerve to suggest she was the one out of line?
She would tell Dash that he needed to leave. But when she opened her mouth to say as much, she felt the bile rise in her throat. Her eyes bulged wide as she closed her mouth and held back something akin to a burp. Dash clocked her panic, and his eyes narrowed. She shook her head, but there was no use. She was definitely going to hurl all over her high-school celebrity crush. And without even being able to call out a warning, she projectile-vomited all over Dash.
About the Author:
Author Bio: ERIN LA ROSA is a writer living in Los Angeles. As a writer for BuzzFeed, she frequently writes about the perils and triumphs of being a redhead. Before BuzzFeed, Erin worked for the comedy websites Funny or Die and MadAtoms, as well as E!s Fashion Police, Wetpaint, and Ecorazzi. Erin has appeared on CNN, Headline News, Jimmy Kimmel, and The Today Show on behalf of BuzzFeed. She is the author of Womanskills and The Big Redhead Book.
“This book absolutely dazzled me from the opening scene until the very last page. Highly recommend!” —Jenn McKinlay, New York Times bestselling author of Summer Reading
“a sparkling debut” -PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Poppy Banks would rather be writing mysteries than writing listicles for her dead-end job at Thought Buzz. But after a series of rejections, she’s ready to accept life on the sidelines as a plus-size woman. Her aunt Margot is the one person unwilling to give up on her niece’s dreams and tells her so at their secret yearly lunches.
But all of Poppy’s beliefs about herself are challenged when her beloved aunt dies and leaves her niece a grand surprise—a trip to her villa in the French Riviera. There, she learns her aunt intends to leave her stunning villa and secretive writer’s residency to Poppy—if she can finish her novel in six months.
When the writing countdown begins, Poppy realizes she has more to confront than her writer’s block. Family drama, complicated romances and self-doubt all threaten to throw her off course. In this fun and heartwarming debut, Poppy must decide if she can live up to her aunt’s—and her own—desire to be the main character in her own life.
Content Warning: Grief
The thing that drew me to this book was the title, Main Character Energy. I knew it was going to be a woman on a self-journey and when I saw that the synopsis mentions the French Riviera, I had to request it.
Poppy feels like she is at a dead-end in life. Her dreams of being a writer is stalled, she doesn’t get support from her family – especially from her mom and Poppy can’t believe this is her life. It is her life, until an opportunity arises after the death of her estranged aunt Margot who passes away. Margot leaves her a chance to be the “main character” in her life and what a chance it is.
The story is set on the French Riviera and I’ve only been to Nice, France once but it is a beautiful place so I could picture Poppy in France and really blossoming and working on her writing and herself really. There is even some romance in the air for her with Oliver, the man who was practically raised by her aunt. I loved the romance, the sense of community at the writing retreat Poppy lives at, and the magical setting of the French Riviera.
I enjoyed Poppy’s self-journey because she has a lot of things to fix. She’s afraid and this opportunity makes her face some fears and push through them. There are a lot of issues she has with her family and it does get resolved. I will say Poppy is forgiving towards her mom, because a relationship like that could have really ended in a “no contact” situation and I wouldn’t blame Poppy at all!
I did feel like some parts of the book felt rushed. Maybe because Poppy goes weeks without talking to Oliver because she’s busy writing but those are time jumps that I felt like rushed the story. Also I did wish for more “main character energy” but I get that Poppy was really new to this and she’s her own person. She made herself the main character in her way, even if it’s not as bold as I was expecting. Other than that though I think this is a great summer read.
About the Author:
Jamie Varon is an author, branding expert, course creator, and graphic designer living in Calabasas, California. Her nonfiction book Radically Content was published in 2022 with Quarto and is currently being adapted into a feature film with Camilu Productions LTD. Main Character Energy is her debut novel.
“A stunning portrait of a woman blossoming into her full power…this is Alka Joshi’s best book yet!” —Kate Quinn, New York Times bestselling author of The Diamond Eye
From the author of Reese’s Book Club Pick The Henna Artist, the final chapter in Alka Joshi’s New York Times bestselling Jaipur trilogy takes readers to 1970s Paris, where Radha’s budding career as a perfumer must compete with the demands of her family and the secrets of her past.
Paris, 1974. Radha is now living in Paris with her husband, Pierre, and their two daughters. She still grieves for the baby boy she gave up years ago, when she was only a child herself, but she loves being a mother to her daughters, and she’s finally found her passion—the treasure trove of scents.
She has an exciting and challenging position working for a master perfumer, helping to design completely new fragrances for clients and building her career one scent at a time. She only wishes Pierre could understand her need to work. She feels his frustration, but she can’t give up this thing that drives her.
Tasked with her first major project, Radha travels to India, where she enlists the help of her sister, Lakshmi, and the courtesans of Agra—women who use the power of fragrance to seduce, tease and entice. She’s on the cusp of a breakthrough when she finds out the son she never told her husband about is heading to Paris to find her—upending her carefully managed world and threatening to destroy a vulnerable marriage.
Paris
September 2, 1974
I pick up on the first ring; I know it’s going to be her. She always calls on his birthday. Not to remind me of the day he came into this world but to let me know I’m not alone in my remembrance.
“Jiji?” I keep my voice low. I don’t want to wake Pierre and the girls.
“Kaisa ho, choti behen?” my sister says. I hear the smile in her voice, and I respond with my own. It’s lovely to hear Lakshmi’s gentle Hindi here in my Paris apartment four thousand miles away. I’d always called her Jiji—big sister—but she hadn’t always called me choti behen. It was Malik who addressed me as little sister when I first met him in Jaipur eighteen years ago, and he wasn’t even related to Jiji and me by blood. He was simply her apprentice. My sister started calling me choti behen later, after everything in Jaipur turned topsy-turvy, forcing us to make a new home in Shimla.
Today, my sister will talk about everything except the reason she’s calling. It’s the only way she’s found to make sure I get out of bed on this particular date, to prevent me from spiraling into darkness every year on the second of September, the day my son, Niki, was born.
She started the tradition the first year I was separated from him, in 1957. I was just fourteen. Jiji arrived at my boarding school with a picnic, having arranged for the headmistress to excuse me from classes. We had recently moved from Jaipur to Shimla, and I was still getting used to our new home. I think Malik was the only one of us who adjusted easily to the cooler temperatures and thinner air of the Himalayan mountains, but I saw less of him now that he was busy with activities at his own school, Bishop Cotton.
I was in history class when Jiji appeared at the door and beckoned me with a smile. As I stepped outside the room, she said, “It’s such a beautiful day, Radha. Shall we take a hike?” I looked down at my wool blazer and skirt, my stiff patent leather shoes, and wondered what had gotten into her. She laughed and told me I could change into the clothes I wore for nature camp, the one our athletics teacher scheduled every month. I’d woken with a heaviness in my chest, and I wanted to say no, but one look at her eager face told me I couldn’t deny her. She’d cooked my favorite foods for the picnic. Makki ki roti dripping with ghee. Palak paneer so creamy I always had to take a second helping. Vegetable korma. And chole, the garbanzo bean curry with plenty of fresh cilantro.
That day, we hiked Jakhu Hill. I told her how I hated math but loved my sweet old teacher. How my roommate, Mathilde, whistled in her sleep. Jiji told me that Madho Singh, Malik’s talking parakeet, was starting to learn Punjabi words. She’d begun taking him to the Community Clinic to amuse the patients while they waited to be seen by her and Dr. Jay. “The hill people have been teaching him the words they use to herd their sheep, and he’s using those same words now to corral patients in the waiting area!” She laughed, and it made me feel lighter. I’ve always loved her laugh; it’s like the temple bells that worshippers ring to receive blessings from Bhagwan.
When we reached the temple at the top of the trail, we stopped to eat and watched the monkeys frolicking in the trees. A few of the bolder macaques eyed our lunch from just a few feet away. As I started to tell her a story about the Shakespeare play we were rehearsing after school, I stopped abruptly, remembering the plays Ravi and I used to rehearse together, the prelude to our lovemaking. When I froze, she knew it was time to steer the conversation into less dangerous territory, and she smoothly transitioned to how many times she’d beat Dr. Jay at backgammon.
“I let Jay think he’s winning until he realizes he isn’t,” Lakshmi grinned.
I liked Dr. Kumar (Dr. Jay to Malik and me), the doctor who looked after me when I was pregnant with Niki—here in Shimla. I’d been the first to notice that he couldn’t take his eyes off Lakshmi, but she’d dismissed it; she merely considered the two of them to be good friends. And here he and my sister have been married now for ten years! He’s been good for her—better than her ex-husband was. He taught her to ride horses. In the beginning, she was scared to be high off the ground (secretly, I think she was afraid of losing control), but now she can’t imagine her life without her favorite gelding, Chandra.
So lost am I in memories of the sharp scents of Shimla’s pines, the fresh hay Chandra enjoys, the fragrance of lime aftershave and antiseptic coming off Dr. Jay’s coat, that I don’t hear Lakshmi’s question. She asks again. My sister knows how to exercise infinite patience—she had to do it often enough with those society ladies in Jaipur whose bodies she spent hours decorating with henna paste.
I look at the clock on my living room wall. “Well, in another hour, I’ll get the girls up and make their breakfast.” I move to the balcony windows to draw back the drapes. It’s overcast today, but a little warmer than yesterday. Down below, a moped winds its way among parked cars on our street. An older gentleman, keys jingling in his palm, unlocks his shop door a few feet from the entrance to our apartment building. “The girls and I may walk a ways before we get on the Métro.”
“Won’t the nanny be taking them to school?”
Turning from the window, I explain to Jiji that we had to let our nanny go quite suddenly and the task of taking my daughters to the International School has fallen to me.
“What happened?”
It’s a good thing Jiji can’t see the color rise in my cheeks. It’s embarrassing to admit that Shanti, my nine-year-old daughter, struck her nanny on the arm, and Yasmin did what she would have done to one of her children back in Algeria: she slapped Shanti. Even as I say it, I feel pinpricks of guilt stab the tender skin just under my belly button. What kind of mother raises a child who attacks others? Have I not taught her right from wrong? Is it because I’m neglecting her, preferring the comfort of work to raising a girl who is presenting challenges I’m not sure I can handle? Isn’t that what Pierre has been insinuating? I can almost hear him say, “This is what happens when a mother puts her work before family.” I put a hand on my forehead. Oh, why did he fire Yasmin before talking to me? I didn’t even have a chance to understand what transpired, and now my husband expects me to find a replacement. Why am I the one who must find the solution to a problem I didn’t cause?
My sister asks how my work is going. This is safer ground. My discomfort gives way to excitement. “I’ve been working on a formula for Delphine that she thinks is going to be next season’s favorite fragrance. I’m on round three of the iteration. The way she just knows how to pull back on one ingredient and add barely a drop of another to make the fragrance a success is remarkable, Jiji.”
I can talk forever about fragrances. When I’m mixing a formula, hours can pass before I stop to look around, stretch my neck or step outside the lab for a glass of water and a chat with Celeste, Delphine’s secretary. It’s Celeste who often reminds me that it’s time for me to pick up the girls from school when I’m between nannies. And when I do have someone to look after the girls, Celeste casually asks what I’m serving for dinner, reminding me that I need to stop work and get home in time to feed them. On the days Pierre cooks, I’m only too happy to stay an extra hour before finishing work for the day. It’s peaceful in the lab. And quiet. And the scents—honey and clove and vetiver and jasmine and cedar and myrrh and gardenia and musk—are such comforting companions. They ask nothing of me except the freedom to envelop another world with their essence. My sister understands. She told me once that when she skated a reed dipped in henna paste across the palm, thigh or belly of a client to draw a Turkish fig or a boteh leaf or a sleeping baby, everything fell away—time, responsibilities, worries.
My daughter Asha’s birthday is coming up. She’s turning seven, but I know Jiji won’t bring it up. Today, my sister will refrain from any mention of birthdays, babies or pregnancies because she knows these subjects will inflame my bruised memories. Lakshmi knows how hard I’ve worked to block out the existence of my firstborn, the baby I had to give up for adoption. I’d barely finished grade eight when Jiji told me why my breasts were tender, why I felt vaguely nauseous. I wanted to share the good news with Ravi: we were going to have a baby! I’d been so sure he would marry me when he found out he was going to be a father. But before I could tell him, his parents whisked him away to England to finish high school. I haven’t laid eyes on him since. Did he know we’d had a son? Or that our baby’s name is Nikhil?
I wanted so much to keep my baby, but Jiji said I needed to finish school. At thirteen, I was too young to be a mother. What a relief it was when my sister’s closest friends, Kanta and Manu, agreed to raise the baby as their own and then offered to keep me as his nanny, his ayah. They had the means, the desire and an empty nursery. I could be with Niki all day, rock him, sing him to sleep, kiss his peppercorn toes, pretend he was all mine. It took me only four months to realize that I was doing more harm than good, hurting Kanta and Manu by wanting Niki to love only me.
When I was first separated from my son, I thought about him every hour of every day. The curl on one side of his head that refused to settle down. The way his belly button stuck out. How eagerly his fat fingers grasped the milk bottle I wasn’t supposed to give him. Having lost her own baby, Kanta was happy to feed Niki from her own breast. And that made me jealous—and furious. Why did she get to nurse my baby and pretend he was hers? I knew it was better for him to accept her as his new mother, but still. I hated her for it.
I knew that as long as I stayed in Kanta’s house, I would keep Niki from loving the woman who wanted to nurture him and was capable of caring for him in the long run. Lakshmi saw it, too. But she left the decision to me. So I made the only choice I could. I left him. And I tried my best to pretend he never existed. If I could convince myself that the hours Ravi Singh and I spent rehearsing Shakespeare—coiling our bodies around each other as Othello and Desdemona, devouring each other into exhaustion—had been a dream, surely I could convince myself our baby had been a dream, too.
And it worked. On every day but the second of September.
Ever since I left Jaipur, Kanta has been sending envelopes so thick I know what they contain without opening them: photos of Niki the baby, the toddler, the boy. I return each one, unopened, safe in the knowledge that the past can’t touch me, can’t splice my heart, can’t leave me bleeding.
The last time I saw Jiji in Shimla, she showed me a similar envelope addressed to her. I recognized the blue paper, Kanta’s elegant handwriting—letters like g and y looping gracefully—and shook my head. “When you’re ready, we can look at the photos together,” Jiji said.
But I knew I never would.
Today, I’ll make it through Niki’s seventeenth birthday in a haze, as I always do. I know tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow, I’ll be able to do what I couldn’t today. I’ll seal that memory of my firstborn as tightly as if I were securing the lid of a steel tiffin for my lunch, making sure that not a drop of the masala dal can escape.
Born in India and raised in the U.S. since she was nine, Alka Joshi has a BA from Stanford University and an MFA from California College of Arts. Joshi’s debut novel, The Henna Artist, immediately became a NYT bestseller, a Reese Witherspoon Bookclub pick, was Longlisted for the Center for Fiction First Novel Prize, & is in development as a TV series. Her second novel, The Secret Keeper of Jaipur (2021), is followed by The Perfumist of Paris (2023).Find her online at www.alkajoshi.com.
A romance novel–obsessed social media influencer revisits her exes on her hunt for true love in this romantic comedy from the author of Set On You.
Romance-novel connoisseur Tara Chen has had her heart broken ten times by ten different men–all of whom dumped her because of her “stage-five clinger” tendencies. Nevertheless, Tara is determined to find The One. The only problem? Classic meet-cutes are dead thanks to modern dating apps. So Tara decides to revisit her exes in hopes of securing her very own trope-worthy second-chance romance.
Boston firefighter Trevor Metcalfe will be the first to rush into a burning building but the last to rush into a relationship. Love just isn’t his thing. When his new roommate Tara enlists him to help her reconnect with her exes, he reluctantly agrees. But Tara’s journey is leading him to discover his own new chapter.
The more time they spend together, the more Tara realizes Trevor seems to be the only one who appreciates her authentic, dramatic self. To claim their happily-ever-after, can Tara and Trevor read between the lines of their growing connection?
EXES AND O’S Non-Exclusive Excerpt
As I contemplate curling into bed to escape reality with a trusty book, there’s a soft knock at the door. “What?” I grumble.
“Tara, please open the door.”
Against my better judgment, I open it the tiniest crack. Trevor is still in his coat and boots, his chest heaving, his hair disheveled like he’s run his fingers through it a thousand times.
“I’m not talking to you until you tell me the truth,” I warn.
He tips his head back, as if to see me from a different perspective. “You want the truth?” he asks, his voice strained.
“That’s all I want,” I whisper, my hands on either side of my cheeks to cover the redness.
He sighs. “You were right. I—have feelings for you.” The declaration knocks the wind out of my chest. I tamp down the urge to ask a million questions, letting him continue. “Big feelings. To the point where I don’t even know what to do with myself half the time. I’ve tried to get you out of my head for months, but your stubborn ass just won’t leave.”
“Really?”
“I’ve wanted to tell you so badly. Every single day since I realized it.”
“Why haven’t you?”
“Because I’m scared that I can’t give you what you need.”
“What do you think I need?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You want a full-on fairy tale. The perfect guy from your books. Marriage. Kids. Everything. And you deserve it all. But what if I’m not capable of giving that to you?”
I consider that. I think about all the exes who’ve made me similar promises in the past. How empty their words were. How it all meant nothing. Because in the end, they all left.
“But what if you are?” I counter. “I don’t need another man who makes elaborate promises they can’t commit to, Trevor. I need someone who’s going to be open and honest with me. I want someone who is willing to try.”
A sigh that sounds like relief escapes his lips. “If there’s anyone in this world I want to try for, it’s you,” he whispers.
My chest caves, and my eyes mist. Somehow, those words mean more to me than any elaborate declaration of love from my exes. “We’re really doing this?” I confirm.
“I’m going to give this everything I have. I just . . . I might need to take thing slow. Slower than you’re used to.”
I nod. “I can do slow.”
He regards me, his lip tilting in a smirk. “Can you, though?”
“Yup.” I cover my face to hide my half-lie, and he laughs.
“You’ve already come up with baby names, haven’t you?”
My heart swells. We’ve been in a relationship all of a minute and already Trevor knows me better than any guy I’ve ever been with. “Maybe. But you’re right. We’ll go slow. Glacial slow. No marriage or baby talk. And just kissing. We’ll keep it G-rated.” I press my hand over my chest in a vow.
He’s quiet for a few beats as his eyes search mine. For a split second, I’m certain he’s about to walk it all back. “Maybe not G.”
“No? Would you prefer PG? Just light pecks and hand-holding?” I tease.
“At least PG-13, smartass. Get over here.” Before I have the chance to pounce, he pushes the door open, crosses the threshold, and pulls my wrists from my face. And then, his lips collide with mine. Hard.
Amy Lea is an Asian Canadian government analyst who runs the Bookstagram account @amyleabooks, where she promotes and reviews contemporary romance novels. Set on You is her debut novel. Learn more online at www.amyleabooks.com.
Categories: Young Adult, Asexual, LGBT+, Fantasy, Teen Readers
Disclaimer: **I received this book free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.**
Thank you to Inkyard Press for giving me a chance to read this eARC in exchange for an honest review!
Silver in the Mist by Emily Victoria is a YA fantasy featuring asexual representation that follows a palace spy sent to infiltrate a neighboring kingdom in hopes of returning magic to her dying land.
Eight years ago, everything changed for Devlin: Her country was attacked. Her father was killed. And her mother became the Whisperer of Aris, the head of the spies, retreating into her position away from everyone… even her daughter.
Joining the spy ranks herself, Dev sees her mother only when receiving assignments. She wants more, but she understands the peril their country, Aris, is in. The malevolent magic force of The Mists is swallowing Aris’s edges, their country is vulnerable to another attack from their wealthier neighbor, and the magic casters who protect them from both are burning out.
Dev has known strength and survival her whole life, but with a dangerous new assignment of infiltrating the royal court of their neighbor country Cerena to steal the magic they need, she learns that not all that glitters is weak. And not all stories are true.
Content Warning: violence, strained relationship
I read Emily Victoria’s This Golden Flame and really thought it was creative and had a great asexual main character. Silver in the Mists sounded totally different so I was curious to read it. Here’s what did and didn’t work for me:
+ The world building is once again, unique and creative. Two kingdoms are kept apart by a phenomenon called the Mists- in Aris, but called the Hush in Cerena. There is a phenomenon that separates the kingdoms called the Mists (in Aris), and the Hush (in Cerena) – and in these mists are monsters. The magic system is different too, magic casters work with filigree.
+ Devlin is the main character and she is asexual. She’s a spy who is sent to Cerena on a mission to kidnap their most powerful magic caster, Alyse. So she spends more time in Cerena than in her home of Aris but we learn about the conflict and history between the two kingdoms while she is there. I enjoyed all the secondary characters too, especially Milla who helps Devlin complete her mission. Dev does have issues to deal with in regards to her mother, The Whisperer – who is basically her boss. They have a very strained relationship but all Dev wants is her mother’s love and approval and she hopes this mission will bring her both.
+ I like that this book was fast paced and it kept me engaged from beginning to end! I do feel like this will appeal to teen readers more than young adult.
~ Although the world-building is very unique I did wish we had a little more information about the magic system. I just went with everything because the story was moving quickly and I was invested in Dev’s undercover mission. But it would be nice to learn more about the filigrees. Also there was one thing in the story that kept throwing me off and it was the word Layde. Is it pronounced “lady” or “laid”? And it was applied to upperclass citizens I believe but I kept stumbling over how to say it.
Tropes: spy, asexual main character, strained Mother/Daughter relationship
Why you should read it:
fast paced story
unique world building
a spy/undercover story that is entertaining
Why you might not want to read it:
more geared towards teen readers
My Thoughts:
It’s rare to find stand alone fantasy books these days but I like what this author is doing with the ones she’s written so far. She has her signature unique world-building and a main character who is asexual. I found Silver in the Mist quite entertaining and feel like it would appeal to teen readers.
Emily Victoria is a Canadian prairie girl who writes young adult science fiction and fantasy. When not wordsmithing, she likes walking her overexcitable dog, drinking far too much tea, and crocheting things she no longer has the space to store. Her librarian degree has allowed her to work at a library and take home far too many books.
Categories: Fantasy, Japanese Mythology, Young Adult, Paranormal
Disclaimer: **I received this book free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.**
Thank you to Inkyard Press for giving me a chance to read this eARC in exchange for an honest review!
In this riveting sequel to The Keeper of Night, a half Reaper, half Shinigami soul collector must defend her title as Japan’s Death Goddess from those who would see her—and all of Japan—destroyed.
Death is her dynasty.
Ren Scarborough is no longer the girl who was chased out of England—she is the Goddess of Death ruling Japan’s underworld. But Reapers have recently been spotted in Japan, and it’s only a matter of time before Ivy, now Britain’s Death Goddess, comes to claim her revenge.
Ren’s last hope is to appeal to the god of storms and seas, who can turn the tides to send Ivy’s ship away from Japan’s shores. But he’ll only help Ren if she finds a sword lost thousands of years ago—an impossible demand.
Together with the moon god Tsukuyomi, Ren ventures across the country in a race against time. As her journey thrusts her in the middle of scheming gods and dangerous Yokai demons, Ren will have to learn who she can truly trust—and the fate of Japan hangs in the balance.
Content Warning: gore, violence
Book one of this duology, The Keeper of Time, was pretty memorable for me because it had Yokai, it had betrayal and gore and I usually don’t like gore but with a story that involved Reapers and Gods, I expected nothing less. I wanted more of the reapers and Gods and I definitely got it in this conclusion.
+ I love this world of British Reapers and Japanese Gods colliding. It’s gory, dark and violent and yet in the middle of the chaos is this love story but not a romantic one – the main love story in this book is the love between Ren and her brother Neven. It made me emotional because they went through such horrible things but they love one another so much they find their way back to one another.
+ Ren is chaos. She is a Death goddess now but still trying to prove yourself to the yokai and other gods. I love how she meets other gods and yokai in Japan and we learn their stories and mythology. But she has a lot of atoning to do from what happened at the end of book one and we find out she does it in the most destructible way ever…yet there is growth for her thank goodness!
+ I’m here for the darkness and there is lots of it. The world building is so dark, and I could vividly imagine everything described in this story even if it was grotesque! I also love the action even if it is gory.
~ There is a good ending with Ren and her brother, Neven. But there is no romantic happy ending with Ren and Tsukuyomi which is fine, because I still wasn’t over Ren and Hiro and how crazy they ended. Throwing Tsukuyomi in there – I wasn’t even sure the romance was needed but then it just made me feel sad at the end for both of them.
~ This book takes place 10 years after the first book…and it’s been centuries for Neven. But I’m not sure how I feel about the story taking place after so long. Maybe it was to show how tortured Ren has been after losing Hiro and Neven! She went through something bad and we get a taste of a very blood thirsty Ren.
Tropes: antihero, morally grey characters, sibling love
Spice Level:
Why you should read it:
if you liked book one and need to know what happens next, definitely read this one
it’s dark, gory, and filled with Yokai and Japanese gods and godesses, Japanese mythology
the love between Ren and Neven made me emotional at the end
Why you might not want to read it:
it starts 10 years after the first book
Ren is so morally grey at times you question her actions but she’s imperfect, which I like about her
My Thoughts:
This is an entertaining conclusion to a great duology that included Japanese mythology and monsters. I loved all the darkness and violence surrounding the sibling love between Ren and Neven. It was always going to be about the two of them even though it kind of made me sad that Ren didn’t end up having a romantic happily ever after of her own. This one is about family and what you give you and would do for them. Ren became her worst version of herself to try and bring her brother back. It was sad, very dark and gritty at times, but I’m glad they as siblings have a happy ending. I look forward to reading more from this author!
Kylie Lee Baker is the author of The Keeper of Night. She grew up in Boston and has since lived in Atlanta, Salamanca, and Seoul. Her writing is informed by her heritage (Japanese, Chinese, and Irish), as well as her experiences living abroad as both a student and teacher. She has a B.A. in Creative Writing and Spanish from Emory University and is currently pursuing a Master of Library and Information Science degree at Simmons University. In her free time, she watches horror movies, plays the cello, and bakes too many cookies.
Categories: Romance, Inter-faith Romance, Women’s Fiction, Single Dad, Contemporary
Disclaimer: **I received this book free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.**
Thank you to MIRA for giving me a chance to read this eARC in exchange for an honest review!
From the author of the buzzy THE MATZAH BALL, a pitch-perfect romcom about a matchmaker who finds her own search for love thrust into the spotlight after her bubbe outs her list for “The Perfect Jewish Husband” on live television.
Dara Rabinowitz knows a lot about love. As a third-generation schadchan, or matchmaker, she’s funneled her grandmother’s wisdom into the world’s most successful Jewish dating app, J-Mate. Yet, despite being the catalyst for countless Jewish marriages, Dara has never been successful at finding love. Oh, she’s got plenty of excuses—like running a three-hundred person technology company and visiting her beloved bubbe every day. But the real reason Dara hasn’t been on a date in three years is much simpler. Though she desperately wants to meet her bashert, and stand beneath the huppah, she is frozen by social anxiety.
All that single dad Chris Steadfast wants to do is give his daughter stability. But with the ratings for the TV news show he anchors in the gutter, and the network threatening cancellation, Chris’s career – like his life with Lacey in Manhattan — is on the chopping block.
When her bubbe outs Dara’s list for “The Perfect Jewish Husband” when they’re guests on Chris’s live show, Chris sees an opportunity to both find Dara her perfect match, and boost the ratings of his show. But finding Mr. Perfect on Paper may mean giving up on the charming—and totally not Jewish—reporter following Dara’s nationwide hunt…
Content Warning: grief
I read The Matzah Ball from this author last year and I thought to give this new book of hers a try. I’m glad I did! Here’s what did and didn’t work for me:
+ I learned more about what being kosher means. My husband is Jewish but he is definitely not kosher. He follows Reform Judaism and is raising our kids this way. We are also in an inter-faith marriage, something Dara, in the book is totally against at first. I like how she explains why being Jewish and wanting to find a man who is Jewish is important to her. I learned a lot! I also liked how they introduced important Jewish holidays throughout the story.
+ I love the relationships depicted in the story, one between Dara and her Bubbe (grandmother) and the other between Chris and his daughter Lacey. There were very sweet moments between them.
+ Dara has GAD or Generalized Anxiety Disorder and I like that she talked about it and wasn’t afraid to share with people what she felt and went through with GAD. I also like that she is a very successful woman with her dating app J-Mate.
~ I wish there was a little more chemistry between Chris and Dara – there was some, but I wanted more. Obviously Chris was not going to be someone who was perfect for her and she had to work those thoughts out in her head, but she is so steadfast in her faith I almost thought she should pick Daniel because of it.
~ I wanted more scenes with Bubbe in it. She was there in the beginning and the end but no so much in the middle of the book. It would have been nice for Dara to get some insight of her other dates from her Bubbe since she is the most important person in her life.
Tropes: single dad, slow burn
Why you should read it:
a light hearted, rom-com with lots of Jewish representation
Bubbe and her friends are fun ladies and I like how Dara spends lots of time with them
learn about Jewish holidays and faith
Why you might not want to read it:
for me it needed more chemistry between Chris and Dara
My Thoughts:
This is a light-hearted romance story about a Jewish woman Dara, who give us a lot of insight into being Jewish and what she believes it means to her. Dara knows what she wants in a guy so it’s interesting when in the end she chooses the guy who has none of the qualities she wrote down on her list. This story has some funny moments, and touching moments too.
Author Jean Meltzer studied dramatic writing at NYU Tisch, and served as creative director at Tapestry International, garnering numerous awards for her work in television, including a daytime Emmy. Like her protagonist, Jean is also a chronically-ill and disabled Jewish woman. She is an outspoken advocate for ME/CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome), has attended visibility actions in Washington DC, meeting with members of Senate and Congress to raise funds for ME/CFS. She inspires 9,000 followers on WW Connect to live their best life, come out of the chronic illness closet, and embrace the hashtag #chronicallyfabulous. Also, while she was raised in what would be considered a secular home, she grew up kosher and attended Hebrew School. She spent five years in Rabbinical School. She is the author of The Matzah Ball and Mr. Perfect on Paper.
Disclaimer: **I received this book free from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.**
Thank you to Graydon House Books for giving me a chance to read this eARC in exchange for an honest review!
This summer, it’s much ado about everything.
Becoming a famous playwright is all Winnie ever dreamed about. For now, though, she’ll have to settle for assisting the celebrated, sharp-witted feminist playwright Juliette Brassard. When an experimental theater company in London, England decides to stage Juliette’s most renowned play, The Lights of Trafalgar, Winnie and Juliette pack their bags and hop across the pond.
But the trip goes sideways faster than you can say “tea and crumpets”. Juliette stubbornly vetoes the director’s every choice, and Winnie’s left stage-managing their relationship. Winnie’s own work seems to have stalled, and though Juliette keeps promising to read it, she always has some vague reason why she can’t. Then, Juliette’s nephew Liam enters stage left. He’s handsome, he’s smart, he is devastatingly British, and he and Winnie have sizzling chemistry. But as her boss’s nephew, Liam is definitely off-limits, so Winnie has to keep their burgeoning relationship on the down-low from Juliette. What could go wrong?
Balancing a production seemingly headed for disaster, a secret romance, and the sweetest, most rambunctious rescue dog, will Winnie save the play, make her own dreams come true, and find true love along the way–or will the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune get the best of her?
Content Warning: death of parent, divorce
I found this to be a sweet romance with a likable main character who is clearly in love with theater and working on the play that hopefully will make her a famous playwright. For now she is an assistant to Juliette Bassard who is what Winnie aspires to be. They have a best friend type of relationship, which I found endearing. Juliette, Winnie and Roshni the second assistant all take a trip to London for a staging of Juliette’s most famous play and a lot of things happen while they are there.
I’m more of a musical than play kind of person, but I found the playwriting and staging process in this book quite fascinating. You can feel the passion in Winnie and Juliette as one is beginning her career as a playwright and then other is coming into a time of transition. Of course there is a dog is in this story, just makes the story even sweeter, because Ollie is a sweet prince! The romance is sweet as well, there is some heat between Winnie and Liam but for the most part, it’s a relationship between two mature people who may have met each other at the wrong time – at least the wrong time to start a relationship and for them…it works out because they are mature to let one another go.
Of course this can’t be a story about drama and theater without drama. Juliette has a whole past in London and it comes back to haunt her. Winnie has her own things to deal with like finishing her play, figuring out her life after London and what to do about Liam. Juliette and Winnie also confront things about their relationship but in the end it all works out beautifully. I thought the epilogue did a great job to give us a very happy ending.
There were some parts that I found slow and I felt like Juliette and Winnie’s relationship was the main focus of this story as opposed to the romance growing between Winnie and Liam. It is very much a story about Winnie’s life journey.
Why you should read it:
you love drama, theater, plays – I found Winnie’s passion for playwriting really come through in her character
it’s a story about friendship, romance and life’s journey
it has a cute dog named Ollie
Why you might not want to read it:
this is more women’s fiction than romance, so if you expect full on romance, this is not it
My Thoughts:
I was pleasantly surprised with this story but I did wish there was more romance between Winnie and Liam. Winnie is a woman in her late 20’s trying to figure out her career, trying to not give up on her passion and having some romance in the process – I found her sweet and relatable. I would categorize this as more women’s fiction than romance though, but regardless I thought it was an enjoyable read and it has a great happy ending.
📚 ~ Yolanda
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
KATE BROMLEY lives in New York City with her husband, son, and her somewhat excessive collection of romance novels (It’s not hoarding if it’s books, right?). She was a preschool teacher for seven years and is now focusing full-time on combining her two great passions – writing swoon-worthy love stories and making people laugh. She is also the author of Talk Bookish to Me.
Welcome to the blog tour for Nowhere Girl: A Memoir of a Fugitive Childhood by. Cheryl Diamond!
“A riveting tale of trauma and resilience.”
—People Magazine
My Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫
Title: Nowhere Girl: A Memoir of a Fugitive Childhood
Author: Kate Bromley
Format: Paperback
Pages: 320
Publication Date: 6/14/22
Publisher: Algonquin Books
Categories: Memoir
Disclaimer: **I received this book free from Algonquin Books in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.**
Thank you to Algonquin Books for giving me a chance to read this eARC in exchange for an honest review!
Cheryl Diamond had an outlaw childhood beyond the imaginings of most. By age nine, she had lived in more than a dozen countries on five continents and had assumed six identities as her parents evaded Interpol and other law enforcement agencies. While her family lived on the run, she would learn math on an abacus, train as an Olympic hopeful, practice Sikhism and then celebrate her bat mitzvah, come to terms with the disappearance of her brother, become a successful fashion model, and ultimately watch her unconventional yet close-knit family implode. Diamond’s unforgettable memoir, NOWHERE GIRL: A MEMOIR OF A FUGITIVE CHILDHOOD(Available in Paperback: June 14, 2022; $16.95), is a harrowing, clear-sighted, and surprisingly humor-filled testament to a childhood lost and an adulthood found. With its page-turning candor about forged passports and midnights escapes, this is, in the end, the searing story of how lies can destroy a family and how truth can set us free.
Diamond, whose acclaimed first book, Model: A Memoir, earned her accolades as “America’s next top author” in The New York Times Style Magazine, begins her story with her earliest memories as a four-year-old in India. Even at that tender age she had been schooled by her complicated and controlling father to never make a mistake, never betray the family, and never become attached to a place or other people. As the family continent-hopped, switched religions, paid for everything in cash, assumed new names time and again—always one step ahead of the law—young Cheryl (then called Bhajan) developed the burning need to achieve and win approval. By twenty-three she had seen so much of the world, but only through a peculiar lens that had somehow become normal. And she was plagued by fundamental questions: Who am I? And how can I find the courage to break away from the people I love most – because escaping is the only way to survive.
Content Warning: all kinds of abuse, illness, sexual harassment, incest
I haven’t read a memoir in awhile but I found the premise of this story very intriguing. When I was reading Cheryl/Bhajan’s story I for one was amazed that she could remember so far back into her childhood and with so much detail. I don’t remember anything at age 4! But her childhood is unique, scary, and quite traumatic.
I found it to be a very quick read, especially in her early years because she and her family were on the run and traveled so much, barely setting roots anywhere – their whole life was one of multiple identities, loads of lies and I can’t imagine how they even kept it up. Of course eventually things fell apart.
A lot of the chapters end abruptly but I think that works for the most part because their life was always changing but by the end I felt like the story like chapters of her life, were fleeting. Like as a reader, I never got to put down roots into the story also, with her life in her 20’s really felt like it sped by quickly. There was modeling, then Cheryl seeing her dad for what he truly was and suffering from Crohn’s disease but it all seemed so rushed.
I can’t imagine the abuse all of them went through trying to please their father. And what kind of upbringing is that for children? I felt horrible for Cheryl and her siblings. Their whole family was so toxic. All her life it seems she was trapped – it was nice to see there was a happy ending and healing.
Why you should read it:
a family on the run – pretty wild story
to see how it ends and if they get caught
Cheryl’s determination to heal from her traumatic childhood
Why you might not want to read it:
it’s a quick read but a lot of the chapters also feel rushed and abrupt – there were times I wondered how true these details were, especially when she was young
her father is a horrible man
My Thoughts:
Overall, I found this memoir pretty entertaining but also scary and sad. I don’t wish that kind of lifestyle on any child and it was just sad to read about what she went through – even if she had happy memories, there were so many scary ones that she had to internalize all her childhood. I’m glad she came out of the experience alive and learning how to heal with therapy, and knowing who to cut from her life.
📚 ~ Yolanda
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Cheryl Diamond is now a citizen of Luxembourg and lives between there and Rome. Her behind-the-scenes account of life as a teenage model, Model: A Memoir, was published in 2008. Diamond´s second book, Naked Rome, reveals the Eternal City through the eyes of its most fascinating people.
“A shocking rollercoaster ride of a story that shares secrets of life on the run but also asks big questions about what family means and who we truly are, no matter what the name on a passport might say.”
—Town & Country
“Within the autobiographical subset of children-overcoming-adversity that was defined by Jeannette Walls’ The Glass Castle (2005) and Tara Westover’s Educated (2018), Diamond’s tale might just be the most mind-blowing of them all.”
—Booklist, Starred Review
“Like Tara Westover’s Educated, Cheryl Diamond’s memoir tells the harrowing story of how crippling a childhood can be under the despotic narcissistic rule of a controlling father….”
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