Chris M

When I picked up Summer Solstice, I was looking for something light, a quiet coming of age story about two boys finding each other and what that means for both of them. In some ways, Patrick Shawn delivers exactly that. In others, the book gets in its own way.

Nicholas recently moved to Provincetown. There's something about his new neighbor, Ethan, that he can't quite put his finger on. As time goes on, emotions start to flow into something sweet, the slow and hesitant kind that comes when feelings outpace what you're ready to admit. The story takes the time to let those first moments breathe, giving this new relationship room to turn into something real.

What starts as a light and tender story has a harder edge underneath it. Ethan's fear of who he is and what it could cost him has been there from the beginning, but the back half is where the story stops holding back. It goes to some pretty heavy places, and not always smoothly. That unevenness has a source.

The narrator's voice is part of it. Rather than the dual POV most coming of age romance readers are used to, the story keeps you at a certain distance, and not always in a way that serves it. Combined with scene transitions that can be abrupt and disorienting, it sometimes pulls you out of moments that deserve more room to land. The emotional instincts are there. The execution needed more work.

At its heart, Summer Solstice is a story worth telling, and there were moments I genuinely enjoyed. I just found myself wishing the writing hadn't gotten in the way of it as often as it did.

At first, Chasing Fields felt like it was taking its time finding its rhythm. Not in a bad way, more like the story was settling in slowly, letting me ease into Alex and Kai’s world before anything really cracked open. But once it did, once the truth of what Alex was living through with Connor started to surface, the entire book shifted. By the end, my heart was in pieces.

The way Alex's pain comes through feels so quiet and devastating. The way he tries to minimize it, the way he flinches from the idea that anyone might actually care, it’s heartbreaking because it feels so real. And Kai is the kind of character who makes you want to reach into the pages and just thank him. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t demand, he just shows up. Again and again. He wants so badly to help Alex carry the weight, even when Alex can barely admit how heavy it is.

The last stretch of the book is where everything hits hardest. Watching Alex unravel under the abuse he’s endured, and seeing Kai refuse to let him face it alone, turns what started as a slow burn into something deeply emotional and unexpectedly powerful. By the time I reached the final chapters, I wasn’t just invested, I was aching for them.

Chasing Fields leaves you sitting there afterward with that tight, aching feeling in your chest, the kind that makes you pause before you can even think about moving on. There’s relief in knowing Alex is finally stepping into the help he’s needed for so long, but it’s tangled up with this fierce, frustrated ache over everything he’s survived and everything Connor put him through. It’s tender and painful and hopeful all at once, the kind of story that shakes something loose inside you and stays with you long after the last page.

Secrets & Lies was such a good time. These characters are a whole situation. They've got kinks and quirks that are genuinely off the wall, the kind that had me laughing out loud while also, somehow, rooting hard for them. Dixon lets them be chaotic and unfiltered, and it makes the whole thing feel alive.

What really works is the heart underneath the madness. Both of them are hiding the parts of themselves they think are too much, and watching the other person just... not flinch. The slow realization that their particular brand of weird might be exactly what the other one needs is warm and earned and fun to watch unfold.

Messy, funny, and full of feeling. Exactly the kind of ride I love.

Fight or Flight was just straight‑up fun. Jace and Shane spend the first chunk of the book acting like they can’t be in the same room without snapping at each other, and then you start realizing… oh. Ohhh. That’s not hate at all. That’s something way more interesting.

Their whole vibe shifts in this really satisfying slow burn way. One minute they’re bristling, the next they’re accidentally soft with each other, and by then you’re fully invested. It’s messy in the best way, warm in the right spots, and honestly just a great ride watching them figure out what all that tension was actually about.

Some books find you at exactly the right moment. To Catch a Firefly found me at mine. From the very first pages, Emmy Sanders pulled me somewhere I wasn't expecting to go, back to being ten years old, sitting side by side with my best friend on a small wooden platform in the trees behind our neighborhood, talking about everything and nothing for hours. I hadn't thought about that place in a long time. This book brought it all rushing back.

Lucky and Ellis captured me deeply. Two best friends carrying feelings they couldn't say out loud, living separate lives while quietly aching for each other across the distance. There is something painfully familiar about that kind of love. The kind that lives entirely inside you because saying it out loud feels like risking everything. Ellis especially resonated with me. Quiet, steady, holding it all in while the world moved around him. I understood him in a way that surprised me.

One of the most lingering threads running through this book is Ellis and his unsent emails. Words written with such honesty and precision, then tucked away where no one could see them. I felt that deeply. There is something achingly familiar about finding exactly the right words and then keeping them entirely to yourself. Sanders captures that particular kind of silence beautifully, but also the small physical moments we hold onto, a hand on an arm, a brush of fingers, the kind of tenderness you want to bottle and save. By the time Lucky and Ellis finally found their way to each other, my heart didn't know whether to soar or splinter. Happy for them in the way you can only be when two people truly deserve their ending. And quietly grieving for the version of my own story that never got one.

To Catch a Firefly is a story that finds the places inside you that you don't talk about and stays there. I finished it feeling warm and heartbroken and grateful all at once. Somewhere out there is my own firefly, blinking in the endless night. This book made me wish, just for a moment, that I had been brave enough to catch him.