Unceremoniously dumped at the airport on her way to a European vacation with her girlfriend, Sam throws caution to the wind and goes anyway. But the plane experiences a mysterious rip in space and time, and crash-lands in 1805. The only survivor, Sam is rescued by a dashing naval captain, Fenton “Finch” Goodenough. Sam decides to pursue the captain for protection (what she refers to as a “safety bang”) until she can figure out how to get home. But once on land, Sam realizes Finch is not only engaged, but owes a horrible nobleman money and has agreed to betroth her to his debtor to settle his financial woes. With all the gumption of a 21st-century woman, Sam flees the wedding, throws herself on the mercy of Finch’s sisters and resigns herself to a quiet life as a tutor. However, one of said sisters is none other than Margaret Goodenough, an aspiring author who will write the first-ever lesbian kiss in British literature—and whom Sam finds increasingly alluring.
The historical romance subgenre has a rich tradition of defying expectations (and historical accuracy) in favor of a bonkers plot twist. True to form, the plot of J.M. Frey’s Time and Tide is a lot to take in: Some of it is fun, if often silly, and the bones of the story are solid. Frey expertly sets up a classic, time-traveling romance with a refreshing queer twist. Sam is incredibly resourceful and smart, stumbling through the unimaginable with admirable resilience. She’s doing her best to survive, but she’s a brash and outspoken modern woman in Regency England. And so, she constantly finds herself unintentionally overstepping, oversharing and occasionally hurting others’ feelings.
Unfortunately, the central romantic relationship is not as developed . Despite the captain’s eventual betrayal, Finch and Sam’s chemistry is palpable and exciting, whereas the energy between Margaret and Sam feels more tepid and prim. There is little spark between them, and it’s disappointing when Frey closes the metaphorical door after Sam shifts her attention from Finch to Margaret. Why is there explicit, on-page sex between Finch and Sam, but then only vague descriptions of Sam and Margaret’s more amorous moments? They are the couple readers are supposed to root for, but in order to fully do that, we would need to see more passion, love and commitment between them.
Time and Tide by J.M. Frey isn’t perfect, but it’s still a lot of fun, and it’s wonderful to see a time-travel romance embrace queer love.
