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.

Bethany Bennett’s latest historical romance has a heroine with a secret life as an erotica writer; a hero who smolders, yearns and pines; and a mystery that begins in a library. A promising start to Bennett’s Bluestocking Booksellers series, Good Duke Gone Wild excels when it comes to its earnest, evenly matched main characters.

Dorian Whitaker, the widowed Duke of Holland, has made the tough decision to finally part with his late wife’s library. He approaches Martin House Books, where he meets bookseller Caroline Danvers, niece of the shop owners. Caro agrees to help catalog and liquidate his wife’s library, but doesn’t expect to stumble across evidence of an affair: love letters from a mysterious man. The pair sets out to confront this scoundrel, but while Caro is helping Dorian uncover this secret, she has her own deceptions to protect. 

Caro grew up as a vicar’s daughter, but when her father discovered that she was writing erotic novels under a pen name, he threw her out, leaving her to find her way to London and her aunt and uncle’s bookshop alone. Getting tangled up with a titled man like Dorian only further jeopardizes her, putting her secret identity as a writer at risk of discovery.

As the series name suggests, this is a romance for all kinds of book lovers: rare book collectors, those who dream of having their own personal library and romance readers alike. Caro loves reading and writing romance, and she adamantly refuses to let anything stand in the way of those dreams. Starchy and unapproachable on the surface, Dorian is completely undone by Caro, making him a worthy and delicious addition to the ranks of heroes who fall first.

Despite their difficult individual circumstances, both Dorian and Caro have managed to find and build wonderful support systems of people who will advocate for them, but also give them the reality checks that they need. It’s a wholesome and sweet complement to the spicy situations and sexual tension that characterize their interactions as a couple. 

I can hardly wait to find out what bookish appreciation awaits us in future titles, but for now, we have Good Duke Gone Wild to tide us over, a reading (and rereading!) experience that’s sure to be punctuated by dreamy sighs and the false promise of “just one more chapter.” Caro Danvers would approve.