I don’t have a lot of thoughts about this book. Overall, it felt flat and lacked most of the elements that make fake dating such a fun trope to read. The stakes didn’t feel very high—Camilla would’ve still been involved in her father’s company whether she was married or not, so the premise didn’t carry much weight. And Camilla’s realization that she had romantic feelings for Jade? It was about as surprising as realizing the sky is blue or that water is wet. I’m not saying it needed to be some life-shattering epiphany, but for someone who’s supposedly never been in love, I needed more than “Huh, I guess I’m in love and a lesbian…cool. No big deal.” Where was the internal conflict? The emotional depth?
I won’t lie—this book could’ve been the cute Christmas love story I was looking for, but the development just wasn’t there. If everything had been fleshed out more, I could’ve easily rated it higher. But I couldn’t get invested. And in a romance book, if I, as the reader, can’t immerse myself in the relationship, can’t feel those warm, cozy feelings of falling in love, then honestly—what’s the point?
I went into this book excited for a cozy, sapphic Hallmark-style love story, but it just didn’t deliver. Rachel and Morgan’s personalities were so similar that I’m convinced you could swap their names halfway through and I wouldn’t notice.
The dialogue felt stiff and unnatural—especially during the dirty talk scenes. I didn’t giggle, I didn’t blush. I just cringed and skimmed. For a book with so much smut, the chemistry was weirdly… nonexistent.
And don’t even get me started on the third-act breakup. It’s a second-chance romance, so why break them up again? They’re apart for, what, two chapters? It felt pointless and only dragged out the inevitable. The epilogue tried to wrap everything up with a bow—complete with a proposal and wedding crammed in—but by then, I was over it and just skimming to finish.
Honestly, I should’ve DNF’d, but I’m too stubborn about hitting my reading goal.
After falling head over heels for Something To Talk About (seriously, I’ve reread it and still love it just as much), I went into Mistakes Were Made expecting another winner. Instead, I found myself questioning some of the choices and wondering where the charm had gone.
Let’s start with the elephant in the room: the relationship between Erin and Cassie. The 17-year age gap (21/39) didn’t bother me—Something To Talk About had a 14-year gap that worked just fine. The issue here is the context. Erin isn’t just older; she’s Cassie’s best friend’s mom. That dynamic adds a layer of taboo that often feels more uncomfortable than romantic.
Then there’s the balance between intimacy and emotional connection. While I enjoy a spicy scene, Mistakes Were Made leans so heavily on the physical that the emotional bond between Erin and Cassie takes a backseat. The rare quiet moments when their deeper connection shines through are sweet, but they’re buried under a pile of steamy scenes, making it harder to root for them as a couple.
Erin’s behavior didn’t help either. Her tendency to belittle Cassie to create distance came off as cruel, especially when she knew better. The irony of Erin calling out Cassie’s “mommy issues” while clearly battling her own wasn’t lost on me. Meanwhile, Cassie’s occasional objectifying thoughts about Erin didn’t help either.
As for the epilogue? A missed opportunity. Instead of showing their growth together, we get a time jump to their engagement four years later, which felt anticlimactic and added little to the story.
Mistakes Were Made isn’t a bad book—it’s bold, passionate, and at times entertaining. But compared to Something To Talk About, it falls short. The charm, emotional depth, and well-rounded storytelling of Wilsner’s debut are missing here. If you’re in the mood for a messy, steamy romance, give it a try—but if you want a heartfelt love story, this one might leave you wanting more.
After hearing all the rave reviews, I finally picked up Legendborn by Tracy Deonn, and it lived up to the hype. This fresh reimagining of Arthurian legend tackles racism, generational trauma, and the history of slavery in America while delivering an incredible journey of self-discovery.
Bree’s character growth—especially as she embraces who she is before and after her mother’s death—was the development I needed to see. Her journey toward closure not only helped her process her loss but also unlocked her past, showcasing the true power of Black girl magic when one fully knows their roots.
My only real issue was Bree’s romance with Nick. It felt rushed and hard to invest in, which is probably why I ship Bree with Sel. Their chemistry is undeniable, and I can see their relationship evolving into something even more compelling.
Overall, Legendborn is a powerful, creative, and inspiring read that left me eager for more. Tracy Deonn has crafted a story that’s both timely and timeless.
This book honestly reads like a slow-burn Wenclair fanfic, and I mean that in the best way. The way Wednesday describes and thinks about Enid is chef’s kiss—it feels so true to her character. You can tell Enid matters to her, even if Wednesday isn’t ready to admit it outright. Her emotions are there, just under the surface, and the writing brings them out perfectly without ever making her feel out of character.
Seeing everything from Wednesday’s perspective gives us a side of her we rarely get in the show. She might come across as cold or unfeeling, but really, she just processes her emotions differently—quietly, and in her own way. This book gives Wednesday even more depth and challenges the way readers see her. After reading this, I hope we continue to get more novelizations of Wednesday as new seasons are released.
Their Vicious Game was a fantastic read—I was immediately hooked and flew through this book. The storytelling was well-paced and engaging; there was never a moment where I found myself wondering, “Why is this important?” because everything seamlessly circled back to the game and Adina’s role within it.
What made the story even more captivating was watching Adina navigate the rules of the game by her own means. It was fascinating to see how she managed to twist the expectations of the Remingtons, refusing to play exactly by their rules, while still staying within the framework of their dangerous competition. Her persistence and clever strategies felt like a quiet rebellion, slowly turning the tide in her favor. By the time she beat the Remingtons at their own game, it was incredibly satisfying—a moment of triumph that highlighted her resilience and intelligence.
Beyond the game, this book offered an original and thought-provoking exploration of how women—and more specifically Black women—are pressured to conform to societal norms in order to be accepted. It underscores how those norms can erode a person’s sense of self, pushing them to the point where they no longer recognize who they are. Adina’s journey through the game mirrors the struggle many women face in real life, making her victory all the more impactful.