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Three heroines weather tremendously difficult circumstances, uncovering and navigating unsettling details about their families’ histories with admirable grace.

★ A Dance in Donegal

In Jennifer Deibel’s debut novel, A Dance in Donegal, Moira Doherty travels from Boston to Donegal, Ireland, fulfilling her late mother’s dream that her daughter would return to their breathtaking homeland. Moira endures the strenuous journey and arrives in the village of Ballymann, where the villagers’ reception is mixed. Donegal is a charming place, but despite Moira’s excitement, some of the villagers’ disconcerting remarks send her in search of the truth about her mother. In the process, a romance blossoms between Moira and a handsome, honorable thatcher who defends her against the villagers’ prejudice and hostility.

Deibel’s descriptions of Ireland’s landscape, enticing cuisine, sonorous language and vibrant culture converge to form a spectacular background for the story. A gentle thread of suspense builds throughout, beginning with a strange dream Moira has at the story’s opening, which hints at her task in Donegal and her mother’s looming secret. There’s also a love triangle that keeps Moira on her toes.

As an outsider, Moira struggles to be accepted by the tightknit, superstitious Irish community, but she wins hearts through her powerful faith and her love for everyone she encounters. While unraveling her family’s secret and becoming immersed in Irish culture, Moira discovers her roots and finds happiness.

Her Every Move

As in A Dance in Donegal, the devastating details of a family’s history form the foundation of Kelly Irvin’s latest suspense novel, Her Every Move. When a climate change debate at a San Antonio library becomes the target of a tragic bombing, the event’s coordinator, Jackie Santoro, is identified as a key suspect.

Detective Avery Wick believes Jackie’s motive was to avenge her father, who died by suicide before the commencement of his criminal trial, and whose death left his family with a deep-seated resentment toward the city’s officials who leveraged the allegations against him. While detectives look into Jackie’s past, the real attacker threatens to continue his trail of destruction if his group’s demands are not met.

As these tense events unfold, Irvin dives deeper into Jackie’s and Avery’s complex personal lives, and as the pair gets to know each other, the professional boundaries between them become blurry. Though it includes a slow-burning romance and gripping details of chaotic explosions, the novel is, at its core, a heartwarming exploration of faith and friendship.

’Til I Want No More

The past also plays a critical role in Robin W. Pearson’s encouraging, family-centric love story ’Til I Want No More. Theodore is kind and loving, the kind of man that columnist Maxine should settle down with. Even her mother approves of him. But Maxine fights to maintain control of her feelings amid her premarital counseling sessions with Theodore—and the return of her teenage love, JD, whose presence threatens to destroy her future with Theodore and expose secrets that she has concealed for a long time.

Emotional scenes reveal key events from Maxine’s childhood and turbulent teenage years, when she felt unwanted. These early experiences contributed to her decision to settle down with Theodore before she’d properly dealt with her past, but grown-up Maxine sometimes still feels unworthy. The novel also includes Maxine’s articles about her family life, upcoming wedding plans and relationship with Theodore, adding another layer of context to Maxine’s life as the drama unfolds.

With help from her community, Maxine learns that by confronting her tangled past, she can face her future and discover her true self. Uplifting faith-based messages are included throughout, and the story’s easy pace allows time to take in each lesson.

Three heroines weather tremendously difficult circumstances, uncovering and navigating unsettling details about their families’ histories with admirable grace.
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Lady Elysande de Valance finds love in the arms of a Highlander in Lynsay Sands’ suspenseful 14th-century romance, Highland Treasure.

Elysande is the intelligent and beloved daughter of a wealthy family loyal to King Edward III. Though she’s lived in England all her life, Elysande’s Scottish-born mother, Lady Mairghread de Valance, Baroness of Kynardersley, has long maintained close ties with friends and families in the land of her birth. So when unexpected political intrigue lands the family in grave danger, Elysande places her hope in the most trustworthy men she knows.

Rory Buchanan is a renowned healer and the seventh son of the illustrious Buchanan clan. Although he’s generally loathe to spend any time in England, he makes an exception to cure ailing British aristocrats. The extravagant pay funds the work he does back home and helps him build the independent fortune he will need to secure his own way in the world as a younger son. When trouble strikes Elysande’s family, he has just finished treating an English baron and is well positioned to assist. Along with his brother Alick and several of their men from home, he commits to getting Lady Elysande and the critical cargo she carries to her Scottish kin.

But the mission is not as simple as it sounds. Intrigue swirls around them. Betrayal stalks them. It’s not always clear who’s a friend and who’s a foe, and Lady Elysande has been beaten so badly that when she and Rory first meet, she’s being carried in the back of a cart and wearing a full veil to obscure the damage done to her face. While the brutality of what she’s been through is disturbing, it’s also crucial to the story Sands is telling. Much like the infamous Red Wedding or Bran being thrown from the tower in “Game of Thrones,” what happens at Kynardersley (the de Valence’s family seat) animates everything that comes after. Elysande’s condition complicates an already physically grueling journey, and for a long time, no one, including Rory, can see what she really looks like.

This also allows the connection between Elysande and Rory to grow in a unique way. They’re attracted to each other through conversation and collaboration. They forge a mutually respectful alliance and, eventually, a strong emotional connection without the barrier or benefit of her looks. Elysande may start out as a damsel in distress, but she inspires admiration rather than pity from those around her. That said, some readers may be uncomfortable with how Elysande is fairly explicitly framed as “not like other girls,” and with the fact that her trauma is repeatedly referenced and discussed. Overall, though, Highland Treasure is a page-turning, propulsive and, at times, bloody historical romance.

Lady Elysande de Valance finds love in the arms of a Highlander in Lynsay Sands’ suspenseful 14th-century romance, Highland Treasure.

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If I told you that The Ex Talk by Rachel Lynn Solomon was an “enemies-to-lovers workplace romance,” you’d probably think you’d know what to expect, right? Especially if I said that this was a fake relationship story as well? It’s a familiar, much-loved plot. (Many people’s favorite is The Proposal, but I’m partial to Someone Like You, weird cow subplot and all, because Hugh Jackman—well, because Hugh Jackman. What other reason do you need?) But what if I said this story isn’t about faking being together, but faking breaking up?

Shay Goldstein is devoted to the public radio station where she works as a producer, but her dream is to host a show of her own. Still, she’s mostly joking when she suggests, at a come-up-with-new-programming-because-we’re-a-sinking-ship meeting, that the station create a relationship program hosted by ex-lovers. She’s stunned when the program director loves the idea and wants Shay to host it along with the station’s new hotshot reporter, Dominic Yun. But Shay and Dominic disagree on everything. They can’t hold a civil conversation. And, oh yeah, they aren’t exes. But no one needs to know that, the director suggests. They just have to fudge the truth a little (a lot—to everyone) and focus on telling a story, whether or not it’s true. Or they can lose their jobs due to cutbacks. Shay’s current show is on the chopping block, so it’s lie-way or the highway. The easier path seems to be to take a chance and snag her dream job, even if it means pretending to have fallen in and out of love with a man she doesn’t know but is quite sure she dislikes.

Of course, as they tangle in the sound booth, chemistry emerges—along with a burgeoning, unexpected friendship. There’s more to Dominic than Shay expected, and there’s a lot more to her feelings for him than disdain. She’s started to fall for the man now nationally known as her ex.

Full confession: I massively overidentified with the heroine. I don’t work in radio, but my nine NPR podcast subscriptions reveal my addiction. After a decade working in my dream industry, cutbacks sent my career trajectory, like Shay’s, on an unexpected left turn. (Rachel Lynn Solomon, are you my stalker?) So I might have related more than usual as Shay worked and struggled and stumbled on her path to success, professionally and romantically. Shay’s a great heroine, witty and wry and vividly real, and Dominic is just as complex and lovingly drawn. I enjoy the escapist fun of a sexy, confident, flawless hero falling for a me-substitute as much as the next girl, but it’s so much easier to believe in love that feels earned and grows between characters who aren’t props or fantasies but compellingly flawed people.

While its central romance certainly functions as the story’s framework, The Ex Talk also leaves room to explore other kinds of love, including love for family (it was Shay’s late father who inspired her love of radio), love for friends, love for your work—and the kind of love for yourself that means you know when it’s time to leave a toxic, misogynistic work situation. (Thought this story was all sweetness and fluff? Think again.) So I don’t believe it was overidentification that made me fall for Shay, Dominic and the idea of the two of them together. I believe they and their creator did that by being funny, sharp, charming and insightful. This wonderful romance speaks volumes about chasing your dreams, finding your courage and putting everything on the line (or on the air) for love.

While its central romance certainly functions as the story's framework, The Ex Talk also leaves room to explore other kinds of love.

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Sparks fly between an American woman and a charming British aristocrat when they’re thrown together by their parents’ plan for an advantageous marriage in Harper St. George’s The Heiress Gets a Duke.

August Crenshaw has seen the way marriages of convenience have run roughshod over her close friends, hurting them mentally, emotionally and even physically. She finds passion in numbers, risk assessment and her family’s iron works company. A husband would undoubtedly detail her career ambitions. She vows to never offer herself up as her family’s sacrifice, but worries that her parents’ restraint from using their daughters as pawns is coming to an end.

Evan Sterling, Duke of Rothschild, becomes the manager of the Rothschild estate after a series of devastating tragedies. His staid older brother dies suddenly, followed by his father, and the family’s financial situation is revealed to be truly dire. Evan and his mother realize that the quickest way to gain a fortune, especially as Evan’s twin sisters are set to debut the following year, is to marry. An American heiress will bring new money and steady income. Meanwhile, marrying a duke lends a sense of social capital to those who feel like longstanding institutions have been closed to them.

At first, it isn’t August on the chopping block, but her sweet younger sister, Violet, despite Violet having her own aspirations of becoming a writer and the interest of a man back in America. To protect her sister, August volunteers to take her place, much to the surprise and uncertainty of the meddling parents.

Wry, tenacious August isn’t exactly a friendly woman, but she is a memorable and well-crafted heroine. Prickly at best, she’s practical and often blunt with her words as she tries to get her family’s business taken more seriously. By contrast, Evan’s caring relationship with his mother is a cornerstone of his character (and provides some of the book’s best scenes). It’s lovely to see a mutually respectful and close relationship between a historical romance hero and his mother. And as a bonus, Evan moonlights as a prizefighter who fights shirtless and in tight breeches.

The Heiress Gets a Duke stands out from the crowded field of historical romance by combining old and new. St. George clearly has an appreciation for the genre, as the novel is reminiscent of historical classics that longtime romance readers have grown up with, but there are also meta moments of brilliance, as when August remarks on the amount of dukes available in England or the corniness of mysterious nicknames that just seem silly when said aloud.

Fun, tender and definitely sexy, The Heiress Gets a Duke is already at the top of my list for the best books of the year. Don’t sleep on this refreshing and feminist romance.

Sparks fly between an American woman and a charming British aristocrat when they’re thrown together by their parents’ plan for an advantageous marriage in Harper St. George’s The Heiress Gets a Duke.

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In Christina Britton’s solidly crafted Regency romance, Someday My Duke Will Come, a fake engagement and close quarters spur friends to become the lovers they were meant to be. Quincy and Clara are two of a kind. Both are aristocratic underdogs: despite being the children of dukes, they grew up on the periphery of the noble circles to which they belong. And both harbor dark secrets and not quite fully healed childhood wounds that they think make them less than ideal partners. Plus, for different reasons, they’re both desperate to avoid the matchmaking machinations of nosy relatives.

Quincy is the brand new Duke of Reigate. As a boy, he revered and loved his father and was loved and adored in turn. But his mother always seemed to despise him, and he never understood why he felt so at odds with almost everyone in his family. At 14, with his father gone, he ran off to prevent his mother from consigning him to the Royal Navy. Having grown up as fourth in line to the dukedom, Quincy never thought he’d inherit. When he returns home for the first time in 14 years, he learns to never say never. Due to a series of unfortunate events, he’s the new Duke of Reigate and there’s no money left in the estate.

Lady Clara’s family is far warmer, but she’s a spinster and feels pressured by her Aunt Olivia to finally make a match lest she be permanently left on the shelf (unbeknownst to Aunt Olivia, this is Clara’s preferred life plan). Clara was just 9 years old when her mother died, and she all but traded her childhood to make sure her siblings, a younger brother and sister, felt secure. From then on, she watched them play and stood on the sidelines, more caretaker than sister to them both. Later, at 16, she went through a short rebellious period that ended in tragedy, plunging her into despair and making her believe that her past disqualified her from marrying the type of man that would otherwise be her match.

When an upcoming family wedding throws Lady Clara and the new Duke together, they both find themselves in need of a fake partner, and renew a warm friendship formed in Britton’s first Isle of Synne novel, A Good Duke Is Hard to Find. Quincy is warding off his mother’s ill-tempered demands that he marry to refill the coffers. As determined and disapproving as Lady Catherine de Bourgh scheming over Fitzwilliam Darcy’s future in Pride and Prejudice, the Duchess of Reigate has an intended wife picked out for the prodigal son she barely acknowledges—and it is not Lady Clara, his own desires be damned. The rather two-dimensional duchess is pushy and vicious, and her purpose is solely to act as the villain that propels the action forward, but it mostly works. When she ambushes Quincy with the match she’s chosen for him, Clara steps in as his fake fiancée, a claim that also conveniently wards off her aunt’s more generous but annoying matchmaking entreaties. More importantly, it throws them in close proximity even though they’d both sort of like to avoid the attraction they feel but haven’t acknowledged.

In addition to the fake engagement, the events of Someday My Duke Will Come revolve around Quincy’s bankrupt dukedom that needs saving and family secrets that need unraveling. Over the course of their arrangement, Clara and Quincy learn that the things they survived make them perfect partners for each other. This is a solid if not wholly original Regency romance between two likable underdogs who both deserve a happy ending.

In Christina Britton’s solidly crafted Regency romance, Someday My Duke Will Come, a fake engagement and close quarters spur friends to become the lovers they were meant to be.

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Susan Andersen’s latest release, The Ballad of Hattie Taylor, is a love letter to sweeping rural dramas like The Thorn Birds or Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books that straddles the line between historical romance and historical fiction.

Hattie Taylor has always felt like an outsider in Mattawa, Oregon. But a few people make her feel welcomed and loved, chief among them being Jacob Murdock. At the age of 11, Hattie was taken in by Jake’s mother, Augusta, despite her son’s reservations. As years pass, Hattie keeps her crush on Jake a secret, watching as he gets married and then must endure the untimely deaths of his wife and child. But now Hattie is an adult, and she hopes to make her intentions known to Jake.

Jake’s feelings for Hattie are complicated. Not only is he 11 years her senior, but he’s always seen her as a surrogate sister to be protected and watched over. They’ve always been close, but now that closeness seems to be turning into something more, spurred on by the loneliness and grief he feels.

This is a romance for the patient reader. Andersen covers a robust span of time as she explores the integral life experiences of her main characters. (Please also exercise some caution; someone close to the Murdock family rapes Hattie, and her process of healing is integral to the plot.) Mattawa is a small town, but its sprawling emotional landscape, full of complexities and characters, is as engrossing as the best afternoon soap opera. Andersen’s detailed approach to crafting a sense of place shines, particularly as she depicts the passing of each season.

Hattie and Jake’s romance is slow, thoughtful and meandering. Both are figuring out their lives and their identities. How does Jake handle the new role of widower? How will Hattie learn the differences between love and infatuation? Most notably, Hattie’s journey includes the very frustrating realization that she lives in a world ruled by men, most of whom have no care for her own thoughts and feelings. The line between empowerment and disillusionment is a fine one, and Andersen’s acknowledgement of that difficulty makes Hattie’s story all the more memorable.

The Ballad of Hattie Taylor oozes nostalgia even as it vacillates from a lively, page-turning coming of age story, a tender romance that emphasizes care and patience, and a harrowing tale of one woman’s experiences on the American frontier. Hattie’s happy ending with Jake is hard won, but her infectious optimism will have readers with her every step of the way.

Susan Andersen’s latest release, The Ballad of Hattie Taylor, is a love letter to sweeping rural dramas like The Thorn Birds or Laura Ingalls Wilder's Little House books that straddles the line between historical romance and historical fiction.

Jayne Ann Krentz is back with the second installment of her Fogg Lake trilogy, All the Colors of the Night. This smart, witty, fast-paced and thoroughly enjoyable romantic suspense novel has all of Krentz’s signature touches: gender equality, cooperative teamwork and an unexpected twist.

The small town of Fogg Lake, Washington, is secretly home to a cadre of interesting people who have paranormal abilities. North Chastain is a paranormal investigator who’s at risk of going “psi-blind,” which means that he would not only lose his job but also have to forge a new path in the normal world. But that won’t stop him from recovering a mysterious artifact that he believes sent his father, who was also on the relic’s trail, into a coma. To find the artifact, he partners up with Sierra Raines, who works as a middleman for buyers and sellers in the paranormal antiquities trade.

Sierra is no timid, naive woman. She understands the risks that come with going after a particularly sought-after object like the one North seeks, but she's brave and sticks with him when the danger begins to escalate. Sierra saves the day—several times—and North is mature enough to be grateful and intelligent enough to recognize her skills. Sierra’s strength does not diminish North’s; rather, it enhances it. Their partnership is refreshingly and unquestionably one of equals.

If you haven’t read the first book in the series, The Vanishing, don’t let that put you off. This easy-to-follow romantic suspense novel has a breathtaking pace, well-developed characters and great chemistry between its main couple.

Jayne Ann Krentz is back with the second installment of her Fogg Lake trilogy, All the Colors of the Night.

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Loretta Chase continues to prove her reputation as a queen of Regency romances with the second title in her Difficult Dukes series, Ten Things I Hate About the Duke. When a troublemaking duke and a plain-speaken heroine cross paths, again and again, sporting banter isn’t the only thing that starts to take shape between them.

The exploits of Lucius Beckingham, Duke of Ashmont, are known far and wide: There hasn’t been a spot of trouble he’s left alone or failed to wiggle out of, relatively unscathed. Surprisingly, he does have standards; besmirching a woman’s name is one thing he tries incredibly hard not to do. He’s a bit of a bull in a china shop, but a very charming bull at that.

Cassandra Pomfret has a notoriously sharp tongue and her frustrated father is running out of ways to temper her, well, temper. By tying Cassandra’s fate with her beloved sister’s marriage prospects, he hopes she’ll learn to think before she speaks. Her younger sister, Hyacinth, shan’t marry until she does. When one of Lucius’ scrapes threatens to ruin Cassandra’s reputation, he takes it upon himself to court and marry her, an action which she would never encourage if not for her concern for her sister’s prospects.

If you’re sensing similarities to The Taming of the Shrew and 10 Things I Hate About You, you’re not wrong! This is a rom-com lovers’ delight, complete with period clothing and sneaky flirting around the rules of propriety. Chase effortlessly weaves those allusions in without making the romance feel derivative.

Years earlier, Lucius was Cassandra’s childhood crush. She was hopelessly in love with him, but now all she feels is irritation, exasperation and . . . attraction. They show their growing love for one another differently and it’s utterly adorable; smitten doesn’t even begin to cover it. Bickering and banter is the ultimate foreplay between Cassandra and Lucius, and Chase builds tantalizing frustration in both the characters and readers. You will scream, “Just kiss already!” multiple times. Chase is a tease of the highest order, but always delivers satisfyingly.

There are tropes aplenty with something to delight even the most discerning of readers. Lucius is a bit of a himbo (a slang term for a handsome but not very bright man), a hapless golden retriever in a human body, who is earnest and open toward those he cares about. There’s a fake engagement of sorts, with Cassandra and Lucius forced into repeated proximity. And, as I mentioned before, it’s a retelling that taps into a story held near and dear to romance readers’ hearts.

Though this is the second book in a series, it stands fine on its own. If you’re new to Chase’s work, I encourage you to jump in with both feet. Ten Things I Hate About the Duke is magical, romantic and simply wonderful.

Loretta Chase continues to prove her reputation as a queen of Regency romances with the second title in her Difficult Dukes series, Ten Things I Hate About the Duke.

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It’s said revenge is a dish best served cold, but what if it could be served hot? Really hot? Steamy, sweaty, decadent and deliciously hot? Because “hot” is exactly what flawless young aristocrat Lord Arthur Godwick is . . . and revenge against his family is precisely what Regan Ferry, a glamorous young widow with an icy edge, is after. Her revenge involves Arthur, stripped of his privilege and pretention, in her bed and at her mercy for 10 unforgettable nights. If he refuses, the priceless painting his reckless brother traded away will be lost forever. If he agrees—when he agrees—he’ll get the painting back, but what will he lose in its place?

Author Tiffany Reisz has a lot of fun playing with, inverting and interrogating positions of power in her latest erotic romance, The Pearl. Arthur—nicknamed King Arthur—seems to be a man who has everything: youth, beauty, wealth, influence, a flawless reputation, a bright future and a storied heritage, descended from generations of men who kept the reins of power firmly in hand. The hotel that Regan inherited from her late husband, the Pearl, was a favorite haunt of Arthur’s great-grandfather Malcolm back in the day when it was a brothel, and any woman there was Malcolm’s for the asking. Regan descends from one of the Pearl’s whores and has her own bitter experience of a man buying her, via a wedding ring, and relishing his authority over her. Little wonder that she revels in turning the tables on Arthur: having him kneel before her and service her in the hotel that her late husband owned, in the very rooms where Arthur’s ancestor once held sway.

In a subtler exploration of power, the rooms are decorated with a series of paintings (real, beautiful paintings—look them up!) by female artists with their own dark stories—not dissimilar to Regan’s—of cruel and careless men who tried to break their spirits. Paintings of fear, imprisonment, objectification, entrapment or desperation in which the artist, bloody but unbowed, gets the last word. And mingled among them—watching over them—is the one Arthur is bargaining for, the irreplaceable painting his family can’t be without. It’s a portrait of Lord Malcolm himself that might, it seems, have mysterious powers and an agenda all its own.

Reisz never fails to deliver a sizzlingly hot read, and there’s plenty of erotic pleasure to be found here as Regan and Arthur explore their desires and give rein to their passions. But The Pearl is also a deeper, darker meditation on love and trust, and what it means to give yourself willingly, freely to another, to let yourself be vulnerable enough to love and forgive in exchange for love and acceptance in return.

It’s said revenge is a dish best served cold, but what if it could be served hot? Really hot?

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There are quite a lot of truths to learn about Robert, Duke of Rothhaven, the hero of Grace Burrowes’ latest Regency romance. It’s true that he’s handsome. It’s very true that he’s rich. It’s very, very true that he’s clever. But the most surprising truth about him—the secret concealed from society—is that all Robert’s advantages are countered by the strain of severe physical and emotional disorders. The physical ailments are the result of inherited epilepsy triggered by severe childhood head injuries. The emotional problems . . . well, those result from the barbaric “care” he received in the institution that was paid lavishly to keep the so-called family embarrassment hidden away. After his brother found and rescued him from the wretched facility, his fears and phobias kept him isolated from the world for several years. By the time The Truth About Dukes opens, Robert has summoned the courage to step forward from the shadows for his brother’s sake. The truth even he would have struggled to believe about himself is that love is waiting for him out in the light.

Constance Wentworth knows quite a bit about dukes, and not just because the Duke of Walden is her overprotective brother. She’s well-acquainted with Robert as well, from a time when she was fleeing her own uncomfortable truths and wound up working as a maid at the facility where he was kept. A bond formed between them then that endures when they meet again in society, and it’s immediately clear just how good they are for each other. She defends him, he steadies her; she accepts him, he challenges her. She teaches him to trust himself, he teaches her that it’s all right to trust others. Love (kind of literally) blossoms easily. Happily ever after? That’s another story—and what a terrific story it is!

Sensitive readers should be aware that The Truth About Dukes doesn’t hesitate to poke into dark corners. The horror of mental health care in the Regency period is unflinchingly portrayed, although descriptions of the more brutal “treatments” are mercifully brief, and Constance's childhood was violent. But the trials Robert and Constance have faced only highlight their strength and resilience as a family. Their love for each other is fierce and lovely, and their fight to defend it is inspiring. It’s a wonderful ray of hope to read a story like this where tremendous obstacles are overcome through faith, family and a true and deep devotion.

There are quite a lot of truths to learn about Robert, Duke of Rothhaven, the hero of Grace Burrowes’ latest Regency romance. It’s true that he’s handsome. It’s very true that he’s rich. It’s very, very true that he’s clever. But the most surprising truth…

January may be a time for resolutions, but it’s also a time for celebrating all we accomplished the year before. We’re treating ourselves to these books as we begin the new year with hope.

Everyone’s a Aliebn When Ur a Aliebn Too

How can something so cute be so devastating? In this comic book, Jonny (Jomny) Sun takes a goofy premise—a cute alien is sent to Earth to document human activity—and milks it for every drop of philosophical and existential wisdom. It’s sweet, silly, sentimental, but also frightening. At first, I was hesitant to choose this book for this month’s theme, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that its waves of emotion are a treat. It’s an indulgence and a wonder to step outside of your brain—all three pounds of tissue and synapses—and see the world through the eyes of a kind alien. And it feels good, life-affirming and joyous to know that I’m not the only one who’s so pensive about this life thing. This book is a friend—a friend who challenges you, but they do it because they love you.

—Eric, Editorial Intern


The Best of Me

I’ve read everything David Sedaris has ever written. I own every book he’s ever published. So perhaps some will call it “indulgent” or “difficult to justify” when I nonetheless buy his latest collection, The Best of Me, since it’s a compilation of previously published works. But here’s the thing—this isn’t just another retrospective volume of an author’s most popular works, selected on the basis of their fame. Instead, Sedaris chose each piece himself, based on a metric only he could know, and I’m curious to see which wild cards he included. I know, for example, that “Santaland Diaries,” which first launched him to fame on “This American Life” in 1992, is excluded. But that essay from Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim where he drowns a mouse in a bucket? It’s there. Surprise, delight, confusion, nausea—I’m eager for whatever reactions this book will incite.

—Christy, Associate Editor


Braiding Sweetgrass

It’s been six years since Robin Wall Kimmerer’s luminous collection of nature essays was first published, and I’ve given away every copy I’ve ever owned. That’s fitting: Braiding Sweetgrass endows its reader with the recognition that the world has offered us endless gifts, leading us first to gratitude and then to minidewak, the giving of our own gifts as thanks and recompense in a “covenant of reciprocity.” Kimmerer’s book inspires courage to fight for the Earth amid climate urgency, reveals new ways of knowing and seeing while protecting Indigenous wisdom and fosters a community that actively seeks to heal humanity’s relationship with the world. I’ll keep giving away copies of this book, but this special edition, reissued with letterpress-printed illustrations to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the fabulous indie press Milkweed Editions, will be a gift I give myself.

—Cat, Deputy Editor


Catherine the Great

Do I need more biographical tomes of powerful, take-no-prisoners women on my shelves? Yes. Yes, I do. There is nothing that relaxes me more than sinking into an enormous book full of royal scandals and opulent palaces— bonus points if someone gets poisoned via byzantine plot. I read Robert K. Massie’s superb biography of Catherine the Great earlier this year, and I have been peppering my poor boyfriend with anecdotes about her ever since. For example: When Catherine fell ill early on in her engagement to Peter, the future emperor of Russia, she would pretend to be unconscious in order to eavesdrop on the people gathered around her sickbed. Massie loves Catherine even more than I do. He explores her glamorous court and magnetic personality with flair and precision in this absolute masterpiece of a biography.

—Savanna, Associate Editor


The Duke and I

I’m still pretty new to the wide and wonderful world of Romancelandia, though most of the books I read for pleasure in 2020 were romance novels. I bounced happily back and forth between contemporary and historical settings, from Helen Hoang’s The Kiss Quotient to Evie Dunmore’s Bringing Down the Duke. The only thing I love more than a happy ending is a new series I can dive in to and get lost in for volume after volume, and a friend who knows this about me recommended Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton books more than a year ago. Now that Shonda Rhimes is adapting the sprawling series for Netflix, I want to make sure I’ve read at least the first few books before I watch the first season of the show, which drops on December 25, so I’m planning to pick up The Duke and I and let it sweep me off my feet and into the new year.

—Stephanie, Associate Editor

January may be a time for resolutions, but it’s also a time for celebrating all we accomplished the year before. We’re treating ourselves to these books as we begin the new year with hope.

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One of romance’s brightest stars, Rebekah Weatherspoon is known for her sweet and steamy stories. With If the Boot Fits, the second in the Cowboys of California series, she  burnishes that reputation further, delivering a thoroughly modern Cinderella story about an aspiring screenwriter hesitantly falling for a sexy, celebrity, cinnamon-roll-sweet hero with swagger.

Weatherspoon deftly translates the classic rags to riches fairy tale's core elements into a 21st-century context. As an overworked and underappreciated assistant, Amanda McQueen is the perfect contemporary equivalent of a put-upon poor relation—an invisible underling with proximity to the glitter and glam of Hollywood, but no meaningful access. Cinderella’s stepsisters and wicked stepmother have merged into a single figure, the pampered and punitive starlet Dru Anastasia, who uses Amanda as an emotional sounding board but provides little pay and no respect in return. Sam Pleasant, a former cowboy and scion of a venerable Black Hollywood family, makes an excellent 21st-century prince, and the Vanity Fair Oscar party easily stands in for a royal ball.

While it’s great fun to see this fantasy transformed, the relationship between Amanda and Sam is the beating heart of the story, and the way their connection develops is brand new. After all, Cinderella and Prince Charming didn’t hook up after the ball. Also new is Amanda’s irreverence and incredulity the morning after, when she wakes up in a hotel room and can’t help but think, “The night before must have been a dream.” Her mind boggles as she contemplates the series of events that led from the Vanity Fair Oscar party to an A-list after-party, and, eventually, to Sam’s bed. Her conclusion: “There was no way. . . . There was absolutely no freaking way she’d run into Samuel Pleasant at both events, and surely you’d be joking if you told her that sometime in the night she and Sam had completely hit it off.”

This is Amanda’s voice throughout— lively, skeptical and incredibly relatable. Thinking this can’t happen or it’s just one night is incredibly freeing, and Amanda could use some freedom from her grind. One moment, she and Sam are having fun, with no names exchanged and no expectations. The next, he’s asking for her name in the middle of her “enthusiastic rendition of the cha-cha slide.” But she’s still skeptical, so she plays it cool and keeps it moving. “Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m dancing,” is Amanda’s reply, and she assumes that’s that.

It’s a joy to read those initial scenes and watch Sam and Amanda's warring instincts battle it out. Weatherspoon creates vivid, specific characters and gives them wonderful interior lives and excellent banter. Their romance begins with that one-night stand, and the initial spark grows through a shared sense of fun, common values and tastes. Sam recognizes something in Amanda, and he invites her into his home and his inner circle without hesitation.

It should be obvious that they belong together, and yet, despite the chemistry and all their commonalities, according to the conventions of Hollywood, romantic fiction and fairy tales, Sam and Amanda qualify as an “unlikely couple,” defying major societal norms. Sam comes from a wealthy family and has just won an Academy Award, whereas Amanda is “a D-list actress’s lowly assistant” who is struggling to find her footing in the entertainment industry and to just make her rent each month. And even though they’re both African American, Amanda is a beautiful, dark-skinned, plus-size Black woman. In a culture that still holds fast to narrow definitions of what constitutes beauty, this reduces her status and eligibility. To be clear, Amanda has confidence in her talent and her looks. She’s also very aware, however, and sometimes overtly reminded, that successful Black women in Hollywood don’t often look like her. The contrast to her boss, Dru, a thin, light-skinned biracial woman, is especially prominent.

It’s not often that distinctions like this are directly challenged on the page in traditionally published romance, and Weatherspoon handles it all with grace, allowing discomfiting truths and subtle social critique to emerge organically from the events of the story. Conflicts around class, color and size are just part of this romance, however. It’s really about character and family. Though If the Boot Fits places Amanda in a professional context in which she cannot fully escape toxic standards, much of the central relationship develops on Sam’s ranch, a hundred miles away from the image-obsessed center of the storm. As a result, their love story never feels didactic and the romance never gets weighed down. There’s warmth and lightness throughout this very contemporary, yet ultimately classically romantic retelling—Amanda thrives on the support from her own friends and family, and Sam’s family may be Black Hollywood royalty, but they're also grounded, kind human beings, who embrace her and remind her of home. Readers who want romance to explore some of the real issues that women like Amanda face and see her beautifully celebrated and cherished will absolutely adore this book.

One of romance’s brightest stars, Rebekah Weatherspoon is known for her sweet and steamy stories. With If the Boot Fits, the second in the Cowboys of California series, she  burnishes that reputation further, delivering a thoroughly modern Cinderella story about an aspiring screenwriter hesitantly falling…

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Sometimes empathy for our fellow humans can feel just beyond our reach. On those days, we want to shut out the world and escape from our differences. Fortunately there are books that reaffirm hope and help us feel patience for our neighbors once more, like breathing warm breath onto cold hands.

Ninety-Nine Stories of God

This book is pretty clear about what it’s offering: 99 stories from Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award finalist Joy Williams, all of them in some way about God. In typical Williams fashion, though, Ninety-Nine Stories of God is far more than that. The stories here are short and strange, the longest no more than a few pages, but each is crammed with life. From Kafka and a fish to the Aztecs and O.J. Simpson, these stories highlight the absurdity and whimsy of being alive. A teacher recommended this book to me, but she warned me to curb my expectations: While “God” is present in each story, the book is really about humans and the strange things we do for faith. Praying, hoping, crying—it’s all crystallized in these short stories. Williams reminds us that God, however you think of God, is in people.

—Eric, Editorial Intern


Evvie Drake Starts Over

I hate Hallmark movies. So much so that I can’t even stomach watching them in a so-bad-it’s-good type of way. I get anxious the farther I get from an urban center, I break out in hives when faced with a quirky pun, and I have never really understood the appeal of New England. So it means a lot for me to say that reading Linda Holmes’ wry romance, Evvie Drake Starts Over, filled me with joy. The author’s warmth and humor radiate off every page, the sense of place (a tiny town in Maine, by the sea) is absolutely perfect, and then there’s the marvelous Evvie herself, she of the relatable breakdowns and perfect zingers and hard-won journey to happiness and love. This is an endearing little bundle of a book, and after finishing it, I considered, for the first time in my life, taking a trip to Maine.

—Savanna, Associate Editor


Flora & Ulysses

I love all of Kate DiCamillo’s books, but I love her Newbery Medal-winning Flora & Ulysses most of all. The miraculous, madcap adventure of a superpowered squirrel and the girl he loves, Flora & Ulysses is as honest about the possibility of goodness as it is about darkness and despair. In a world where tragedy can be “just sitting there, keeping you company, waiting,” Flora believes herself a cynic who can’t afford to hope. In fact, all of the characters have been, in one way or another, disappointed by other people. DiCamillo’s willingness to acknowledge how audacious it can be to hold on to hope amid uncertainty makes the book’s climax, in which so many hopes are rewarded, all the more moving. As one character says, “There is much more beauty in the world if I believe such a thing is possible.”

—Stephanie, Associate Editor


The Lager Queen of Minnesota

No one makes me feel good about the world quite like my mom and grandma, the relentlessly positive Minnesota matriarchs of my family. But their upbeat nature isn’t a willful idealism; rather, it’s a daily choice to take the hard stuff in stride, to make the most of it, because why not? J. Ryan Stradal’s Midwestern family drama takes me home. It’s got some ups and downs as two estranged sisters figure their way through a longtime divide, but it’s packed with redemption, as one of the sisters’ granddaughters makes a go of a new beer venture that promises to change everyone’s fortunes for the better. Behold the power of hard work and determination to heal nearly any wound. You’re never too old, and it’s never too late, if you’re willing to put a little elbow grease into it. Plus, there’s pie and there’s beer, and those are my two pandemic love languages.

—Cat, Deputy Editor


Cosy

The best way for me to show good cheer toward humankind is to spend time away from them. Call it introversion, call it misanthropy—the bottom line is that I can lose steam quickly when I interact with people, and it’s difficult to be charitable toward your fellow human when you’re cranky. This is where a book like Cosy becomes invaluable. From soups to tea to socks to soft lighting, Laura Weir is an expert at cultivating a space that’s warm, peaceful and snug, and she shares her insights in prose that radiates comfort. Need a cozy movie, hike, book or tipple? There are recommendations in every category, as well as atmospheric musings on the philosophy of coziness. Dipping into this book makes me gentler and more compassionate, and during a year when keeping your distance is a concrete act of kindness, Cosy is worth its weight in gold.

—Christy, Associate Editor

Sometimes empathy for our fellow humans can feel just beyond our reach. On those days, we want to shut out the world and escape from our differences. Fortunately there are books that reaffirm hope and help us feel patience for our neighbors once more, like breathing warm breath onto cold hands.

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