Tag Archives: F/F

Breaking Away from Religious Abuse: Gay the Pray Away by Natalie Naudus

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Natalie Naudus’s debut novel Gay the Pray Away is a young adult romance set in present day, centered around 17 year old Valerie, who is closeted in a very strict religious upbringing (*cough cough* a cult), so if you have childhood religious trauma, mega trigger warnings here.

Valerie Danners—homeschooled since the 3rd grade, when her parents joined “the Institute”—has a love of reading books that aren’t the Bible (discouraged but allowed in moderation) and a serious lack of interest in marriage prospects, much to the dismay of her parents, who believe a woman’s role is to be a wife and mother. Her family’s values are shaped by the “Institute”—essentially a Christian nationalist megachurch whose values are so extreme, they consider even the hardcore Evangelical Christians to be “not Christian enough.”

After stumbling on a queer library book that she just can’t put down, Valerie’s already wavering feelings about her religion are challenged further. Suddenly she’s learning new words like “pansexual,” and reading about characters who express their love without judgment or criticism.

When so-called “troubled teen” Riley, who blasphemously wears pants, has short hair and plans to go to community college, is placed under Valerie’s wing for some ministry and mentorship, Valerie finds her world completely turned upside down. It’s Riley who ends up being the guiding light for Valerie as she comes to terms with her identity. 

Valerie is struggling with a lot of issues, not just her sexuality. Religion has been such a huge part of her life, she’s at odds with how to approach her spirituality outside of her strict upbringing—is there any part worth salvaging? And while at times it seemed Valerie was adapting to her moments of self-discovery and coming to terms with her newly discovered queerness far too quickly, I kept reminding myself that she was already questioning her family’s beliefs and how she fit into their world as the story opened. 

The book includes many heavy themes, and physical and emotional abuse occur both on and off the page, though Naudus softens the edges of this narrative with humor throughout. Tension is high, and I was wringing my hands anxiously during Valerie’s uncomfortable and toxic interactions with both her family and her supposed best friend, a friend who has her own serious issues. As Valerie works through her plan for the future, she remains at odds with wanting her parents’ love and acceptance, despite how they treat her, and that constant questioning makes each decision all the more difficult.  

I found it interesting that there is no exact geographic location mentioned until the end of the story (we only learn the state), which feels intentional on the author’s part. The detail both drives home the point that location is irrelevant, the story could take place anywhere, but it also introduces a sort of underlying feeling of isolation. I especially loved all the wholesome moments spent in the library and its portrayal as a safe space and refuge, not to mention one of the most important characters in the book who never even gets a name: the librarian who looks out for Valerie. 

In the author’s forward, Naudus, who’s also a prolific audiobook narrator, lets us know that she’s writing from experience, and this is exactly the kind of book she would have loved to have found when she was younger.

Content Warnings: Physical and emotional abuse, childhood trauma, religious trauma, homophobia, misogyny, racism, arranged marriage, child abuse

Queer Joy at the IBD Support Group: The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet by Jake Maia Arlow

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And you think you have a lot of crap to deal with!

The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet by Jake Maia Arlow is the story of twelve-year-old Al Schneider, whose life is moving at far too fast a pace—and so are her intestines. She’s not sure if and how to explain that she likes girls. Her mom barely seems to notice anything but her digestive challenges. Her best and only friend, Leo, wants to join drama club and leave her behind. All of which she needs to address between runs to the bathroom thanks to her Crohn’s disease.

When it comes to depicting Crohn’s disease, Arlow, much like an afflicted sphincter, doesn’t hold back. And I love that. Disability is hard, and bowel-related disabilities have a particular challenge thanks to their symptoms being very little-discussed. We don’t discuss poop, as a society. People with IBD don’t have a choice, and the book doesn’t sugar-coat that. (Sugar-coated poop is… somehow considerably worse.) But jokes aside, I appreciated that the book honestly addressed everything from farts to colostomy bags to pooping yourself in gym class, and it did so with empathy and respect.

At the same time, autonomy and identity merge well as themes with regard to both Al’s disability and her sexuality. She feels validated when her middle school IBD meeting offers different snacks to suit digestive needs; she feels frustrated when her mom chooses the same stomach-safe foods over and over. Al does need accommodations. She also deserves to make choices about her own body. So it makes sense that someone who is figuring things about herself and very much wants more autonomy would be hesitant to come out.

That was another aspect of the book I liked. Al knows she won’t face homophobia when she comes out to her mom, who is bisexual and has a girlfriend. It’s not about fear but identity: she doesn’t want to be seen as “copying” when she’s just being herself. I enjoyed the exploration of why someone might keep that private for reasons besides fear.

In fact, the book features plenty of queer joy. Al’s IBD middle school support group consists entirely of queer kids. She feels right at home among them, and especially with cute girl Mina. Al and Mina’s relationship reminded me a lot of a relationship I once had with another disabled person (mentioned here with permission). There were experiences we shared as disabled people and things we innately understood about one another—which is not to say non-disabled people can’t do that, they absolutely can, but they often don’t. I felt so validated by the comfort and companionship Al and Mina found with each other.

Now, this is not to say that the book is perfect. Conflicts came to convenient resolutions, but that made its own sort of sense. Al is isolated by her disability and it has impacted her social development. She is caring but also thoughtless, not the most empathetic person by a far cry. She needs to hear other people’s perspectives, and they need to see that she cares. I also would have liked to see more about Al’s questions about gender identity, which are raised early on but largely abandoned.

Is The Year My Life Went Down the Toilet perfect? No. But it is engaging, honest, sweet, and hilarious. A more than worthy addition to the annals of sapphic middle grade fiction!

A Paranormal Romance Novella with Teeth: A Wolf Steps in Blood by Tamara Jerée

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“We are the figures of each other’s fairytales made flesh.”
– A Wolf Steps in Blood, page 22

Last October, I reviewed Tamara Jerée’s debut novel, The Fall That Saved Us, a romance between a former demon hunter and a succubus. As that was a favorite of the year, I couldn’t wait until Halloween to read their latest paranormal romance, A Wolf Steps in Blood. 

Over a century ago, a witch’s blessing—seen by the protagonist as a curse—gave werewolves their power. That spell is dying with time, but Yasmine and her sister both have strong abilities despite their mother lacking the ability to shift. None of them have ever met a witch, until Kalta, a blood witch who is on the run from her coven, crashes into Yasmine’s life. Though Yasmine isn’t sure if she can trust Kalta, it becomes clear that Kalta is her fated mate. While it’s expected for wolves to have soulmates, she was never expecting hers to be a witch, prompting the idea that the burgeoning couple could usher in a new age for werewolves.

As a Black lesbian werewolf in a rural town, Yasmine has been ostracized on multiple levels. After watching how her sister has been treated, she has internalized the idea that she needs to minimize herself rather than embrace her instincts, to the extent that she treats her inner wolf as a separate entity to be resented and feared. Additionally, she struggles with an eating disorder, and she generally feels stuck in a life where she tries to live on the down low. 

Meeting Kalta is a catalyst for her to finally explore her identity and embrace her own hunger. For her part, Kalta struggles with how her coven has treated her and her brother. While this book is more focused on the wolves, the glimpses we got into witch society and how it has impacted Kalta, and her arc in relation to this and her grief, were some of my favorite parts of the book. I enjoyed her whimsical, impulsive attitude, which made her a fun foil for the more reserved protagonist. 

As with the author’s past work, the writing manages to be both concise and atmospheric, raw and sentimental, bloody and healing. The intensity suits a whirlwind paranormal romance, drawing the reader into the character’s emotions while allowing for more quiet, intimate moments as well. I also continue to appreciate the way the author writes about darker topics, with a focus on characters healing from trauma. Their romances are as much about the characters learning to care for themselves as each other, with these concepts very much intertwined. 

Despite knowing that this would be a novella with a fast burn fated mates romance, I still struggled a bit at the beginning with how fast the characters and relationship were introduced. Even a little bit more development in the beginning would have helped me get invested sooner in the characters and their bond. Additionally, some of the setup made me wonder how wide in scope the story would be, with the talk about the communal fate of werewolves; with shorter works, I generally anticipate a narrow scope. By the end, I was satisfied with where things ended up, and I also grew invested in the characters and story as it developed, especially in the second half. 

If the idea of a fast burn paranormal romance novella about feral women appeals to you, especially if you like themes of family, grief, and community, then I recommend this book. If you’re more interested in a longer novel with more breathing room, then I recommend checking out the The Fall That Saved Us first, and coming back to this one for more of Tamara Jerée’s writing. 

Content notes taken from the book: This book contains depictions of an eating disorder, vomiting (blood, food), self-harm (blood magic), gore, animal death, grief, and sexual content.

Beware the Fae (Even When Gay): The Pale Queen by Ethan M. Aldridge

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I just want to bask for a moment in the reality that we live in a time where an author can go to a major publisher and say, “Here’s my pitch for a book: a sapphic gothic romance graphic novel for middle schoolers” and get a yes. I’m so glad that we do, because I loved this book. The artwork is gorgeous, especially the landscapes that establish the setting. It also perfectly captures a dark fairy tale tone, both with the artwork and the references to folklore.

This is about Agatha, a girl in a small town who has always dreamed of becoming an astronomer. When she meets a mysterious woman called the Lady of the Hills, she’s given a hagstone that leads her into a secret, magical realm. She’s delighted by being able to visit this world and befriends one of the Folk of the Hills, but when she makes a new friend (and crush) in town, the Lady grows jealous and vengeful.

My only complaint with this is the romance happens very quickly, but this is a one-volume graphic novel, so it kind of has to. The Pale Queen really feels like a classic fairy tale/folk tale, including the favours that Agatha has to do for the Lady of the Hills, like telling a story to a troll to stop him from waking up and destroying the town, or guarding a flower that only blooms when the full moon is directly overhead.

This reminded me of Other Ever Afters: New Queer Fairy Tales by Mel Gillman, both in terms of the art (which I love) and the feeling of a classic fairy tale. It makes me very happy to see both kids’ books and fairy tales become more inclusive of queer people. I highly recommend this one.

A Rivals to Lovers Soccer Romance: You Don’t Have a Shot by Racquel Marie

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Racquel Marie’s You Don’t Have a Shot is a YA romance that centers around Valentina Castillo-Green, a high school soccer star whose life revolves around the sport. After an abrupt end to her junior year soccer season, Vale ends up at soccer camp, co-captaining a team with her longtime rival, Leticia. As they take their team from a bunch of rookies with little more than enthusiasm and a whole lot of untapped potential to a tight group of friends with the skills to win, Vale and Leticia learn to not only trust each other but also to care about each other, more than either of them could ever have expected.

I read Marie’s 2024 release This is Me Trying a couple months ago and loved it, so I wasn’t terribly surprised to love this one as well, especially considering I’ve been in such a sports romance mood lately, but man is it fun when a book still manages to exceed those expectations. It gave me exactly what I want from sports romance: a romance I can root for, a deep feeling of camaraderie among the team, and a love for the sport so deep it makes me forget I actually hate sports in real life. More than once while reading this, I caught myself thinking, wow, this sounds fun—this despite the fact that my own very brief soccer career was limited to me, age six, wandering around the field picking flowers and ignoring whatever gameplay was happening elsewhere.

The thing about this book is there is so much compassion here. Vale had a lot of growth she needed to do at the beginning. She was selfish, judgmental, even a little mean. She took everything so seriously, to the point where Leticia notes that Vale doesn’t even look like she’s having fun when she plays. For all her flaws, though, I loved her. I always find it refreshing, especially in YA, when an author isn’t afraid to let their characters be in the wrong, and Vale certainly was that, but watching her learn to listen to Leticia and the rest of her team brought me just as much joy as the romance did. And by the end, I was so proud of her.

As for the romance, as I said, it brought me quite a lot of joy. The banter was funny, and the transition from rivals to friends to something else felt natural in a way that can be difficult to manage. Without saying too much, though, the background was believable, and it was so much fun to watch them learn to rely on each other and see Vale kind of fight against the realization that she is starting to—gasp!—like Leticia as a person. Vale’s other relationships had a similar realism. Every conversation she had with her father made my heart clench—Leticia and I had a similarly unfavorable assessment of the man. But by far, my favorite secondary relationship was the tentative alliance between Vale and her writer brother, Jorge, as they each grapple with their father’s unfair expectations of them.

I truly loved this book. With its strong romance, its complicated friendships and familial relationships, and a compelling protagonist with room to grow, this book had a lot going for it, and in my opinion, it nailed every aspect.  Racquel Marie has yet to let me down, and I very much look forward to reading more from her.

How Much Would You Sacrifice for Fame?: Every Time You Hear That Song by Jenna Voris

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Every Time You Hear That Song by Jenna Voris cover

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I won’t be able to get through this review without mentioning The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, so let me get the comparison out of the way now. Like Evelyn Hugo, this cover likely doesn’t scream “queer story,” but it is—twice over, actually. Like Evelyn Hugo, we’re alternating between two stories, one of which is an ambitious queer woman trying to make it in an industry and time period that required being closeted. I’m definitely tempted to recommend this one to fans of Evelyn Hugo, but it has some big differences, not least of which is that this is a young adult novel.

Our main character is Darren, a seventeen-year-old aspiring journalist who can’t wait to get out of her hometown of Mayberry, Arkansas. The only thing Mayberry ever produced to put it on the map is country music legend Decklee Castle—and Decklee left as soon as she could. Darren and her mother are big fans; her music helped the two of them get through her mother’s cancer treatment. When they watch Decklee’s televised funeral, they learn that she put together a treasure hunt to begin after her death. The prize at the end is three million dollars and a new album of Decklee’s music—enough money to pay off Darren’s mother’s medical debt and get her into a good university. So she convinces her coworker with a car, Kendall, to come with her to decipher the clues hidden in Decklee’s lyrics. Meanwhile, we flash back to Decklee’s life, beginning with her running away from her childhood home in Mayberry in the middle of the night.

Last time, I promise: like Evelyn Hugo, Decklee Castle is a fascinating character. She’s ruthlessly ambitious and loves nothing more than to be on stage. She’s willing to sacrifice a lot—almost everything—for fame. When she and songwriter Mickenlee Hooper fall for each other, she goes to great lengths to conceal their relationship from the press. Decklee isn’t a likable character. She’s believable, but she’s not exactly sympathetic. To be honest, I find that refreshing in a queer character. Decklee is talented and hardworking, but she is also callous and selfish. Darren considers her a role model because she got out of Mayberry and also because Dareen suspects Decklee was queer and Darren is trying to come to grips with her own bisexuality. The more she learns about her, though, the more she begins to realize that her image of Decklee isn’t true to life.

While we alternate between Decklee and Darren’s perspectives, this is Darren’s story. As Kendall and Darren spend more time together, Darren begins to see him in a different light—and she’s surprised that he sees the good in Mayberry. In fact, he’s offended that she seems to hate it so much. He points out that she’s buying into racist and classist narratives about the South and argues that she loves Mayberry, that you can see her passion for their hometown in her writing about it. As they fall for each other, this tension between his commitment to stay and her determination to leave simmers underneath the surface.

I could easily pitch this as a road trip story, a scavenger hunt, a tell-all about a fictional celebrity, but that doesn’t really match the vibes. Above all, this is about relationships, ambition, and what you’re willing to sacrifice to get what you want. While both Decklee and Dareen have love stories, this isn’t a romance. It’s bittersweet, and Decklee’s story is a warning for Darren.

I think the way these stories play out together is really well done, and I liked Dareen’s subplot of coming out as bisexual. Both couples in the alternating timelines have interesting dynamics, and Decklee’s friend Marquel1 was a breakout character, especially as he shows an alternate approach to being queer in an industry that does not accept that. I listened the audiobook, and I think it works well that way: there are two different narrators, so it’s easy to keep the stories separate. I highly recommend this one.

  1. I listened to the audiobook, so I’m not sure if that’s how you spell it. ↩︎

Fake Honeymoon to Real Love: The Honeymoon Mix-up by Frankie Fyre

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The Honeymoon Mix-up by Frankie Fyre cover

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Before my summer break ended, I decided to read a romance that gives off tropical vacation vibes. For this, I chose The Honeymoon Mix-up by Frankie Fyre, a fake romance set on the fictional Sapphire Isle, a resort dedicated solely to sapphic women. The Honeymoon Mix-up tells the story of Basil Jones, a woman recently left at the altar by an ex-fiancée exasperated by Basil’s workaholic ways, and Caroline King, a private investigator hired to tail Basil. After sharing a one-night stand with Caroline that Basil hopes to put behind her forever, she decides to go on her honeymoon alone so that she can still close the wine deal her mom sent her there to complete. Upon finding out that the resort has a strict couples-only policy, she enlists Caroline as her fake wife. Eventually, though, lines become blurred and the women begin to wonder if there is something more between them. 

I will be honest, it took me a while to get into the book. I think my main hindrance was that I found Basil to be annoying. She’s bitter and unhealthily devoted to her work. In fact, there were parts where I totally understood why her ex-fiancée left her. Over time, though, Basil grew on me. I began to see how her overbearing and unrelenting mom drilled into her that all that matters is the family business. By about halfway through the novel, I found myself empathizing with Basil and rooting for her to find love and happiness with Caroline and escape her mother’s grasps.

The Honeymoon Mix-up is filled to the brim with plots and subplots. You have the main story of Basil and Caroline becoming more than fake newlyweds. Then, you have Basil’s issues with her mom, Basil’s attempt to seal a wine deal with the resort, a sapphic Olympics competition against one of Basil’s hated high school rivals, Caroline’s conflict between love and her job, and Caroline’s past relationship trauma. It was a lot to keep track of, and within the relatively short length of the book, it felt at times that none of the subplots got their adequate space. None of them were left unresolved and all had some impact on the finale, but at the same time, none of them hit their emotionally devastating potential, which is a shame. Also, because most of these subplots were Basil’s, it often felt like her story rather than both hers and Caroline’s. 

Despite these drawbacks, I still enjoyed The Honeymoon Mix-up. Basil and Caroline, once they get over their issues, have fantastic chemistry in and out of the bedroom. Watching them get over their issues and fall in love was delightful. As I said earlier, I liked seeing Basil’s development from workaholic controlled by her mother to someone willing and able to forge her own path. The book is also very funny, with a lot of the humor coming from Frankie Fyre’s writing and dialogue. 

For me, the biggest strength of The Honeymoon Mix-up is how it celebrates the diversity of the queer experience. Caroline is Black and comes from a polyamorous family. Sapphire Isle is a safe and welcoming place for sapphic couples to spend time together and find community. It is located in Thailand and is predominantly staffed by Asian women. The owners, Mae and Lynn, are an older mixed race lesbian couple who help Caroline and Basil by sharing their experiences earned with age. Between all of this and the little funny sapphic in-jokes, it felt like a true celebration of what makes queer life in general and sapphic life specifically so great. In addition, I loved Lynn and found her to be the true MVP of the story and possibly one of the best side characters I have read in sapphic literature. I would absolutely take a relationship course with her. 

So, despite some issues I had with it, I found The Honeymoon Mix-up an enjoyable fake relationship romance that would make an excellent beach read. Now, I just need to find the beach! 

Check Out This Intricate and Fast-Paced Sapphic Fantasy: Foundryside by Robert Jackson Bennett

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Foundryside cover

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After I finished devouring this year’s stunning fantasy murder mystery The Tainted Cup over the course of about three days, I knew that I had to dive into Robert Jackson Bennett’s back catalog immediately. Foundryside happened to be the one my library had the shortest hold list on, and I was delighted to find out that not only was it as well crafted, but it was also queer. In Foundryside, Bennett combines intricate world-building, nonstop action, and surprise sapphic feelings into a thrilling first book of a fantasy trilogy that I can’t wait to finish.

We open in the slums of Tevanne, where Sancia works as a highly skilled thief with a hidden power to read objects she touches to earn a living. Despite being so highly skilled, Sancia lives in a ramshackle, poorly-furnished room by herself. I was immediately interested in Sancia because she was so highly skilled but also, unusually for a thief character, she wasn’t too cocky. She didn’t take unnecessary risks because she simply wanted to save enough money to escape her Tragic Backstory that gave her the unique sensing ability. Not even the accepted magic users in universe can do what she does, and what she would really like is to turn it off. Bennett has created an entire intricately-crafted society around his unique magic system, called scriving. Scriving uses symbols and their relationships with each other to cast a new state of reality on objects. For, example one could scriv a wall to believe it’s a strong as the day it was built or a door to only open if it meets the correct key. It’s a system that can be dangerous: scriv with gravity in the wrong way and suddenly a body turns into paste. With such a system, Tevanne has come to be ruled by a series of Merchant Houses, each with its own proprietary scrivings. No government can be allowed to exist that could puncture the Merchant Houses’ sovereignty, and so if you are not attached to the Houses and live in their campos, there is only slums and scraps for you, which is where Sancia operates. I found the implications of scriving—limited only by ones imagination and logic—to be fascinating and compelling, and it made for a series of Mad Max-esque heist and action scenes, as various characters had tools, weapons, and abilities that were essentially welding together from unpredictable elements, which I found very fun.

When Sancia is hired to steal an artifact from a safe, she is dropped into the midst of a vast conspiracy that will change Tevanne forever, if it survives. What I enjoyed about this story was the dramatic flip: after her semi-successful theft, Sancia runs up against Gregor, a Merchant House man with a burning desire to actually bring justice to Tevanne, and it’s a typical cop/thief dynamic. However, circumstances force them to flee back to Gregor’s campo together, and Sancia comes to meet Orso, the campo’s head scriver, and Berenice, his ultra-competent and practical assistant. Suddenly, we’re in a split in the Merchant Houses, trying to expose who wants to steal power and illegal scrivings for themselves. Sancia, being an outsider, at first doesn’t want to work with any of them—any more than they trust her as someone from the slums instead of the campos—but they have to if they want to both stay alive and prevent magical catastrophe. It was such an interesting dynamic for a band of protagonists, and Berenice’s immediate interest in Sancia was even more welcome.

Berenice, unlike the men with more obvious status, never dithered and quickly established herself as out to get things done. When she meets Sancia and is attracted to her both looks and talent, she expresses her interest with a kiss and then makes it clear that the next move is Sancia’s. Sancia, traumatized and operating on the edges of society, has not had a lot of opportunities to think of love or sexuality in relation to herself, but is pleased with this development. Being the first book of a trilogy, there isn’t a ton of time devoted to their budding relationship, but it does provide absolutely critical and adorable motivation to Sancia at a pivotal action point.

In conclusion, if you are looking for a well-crafted and intricate fantasy book with a rules-based magic system and girlfriends instead of a straight romance, you can do worse than Foundryside. I found it to be an engaging and speedy read, and I put the second book on hold right away.

A Curveball Romance: Playing for Keeps by Jennifer Dugan

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Playing for Keeps cover

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A baseball pitcher and umpire definitely aren’t supposed to fall for each other, right? Especially not when star pitcher June and officiate-to-be Ivy are trying to go pro. Sometimes, life throws you a curveball, though. When Ivy is assigned as an umpire for June’s elite club baseball team, they instantly clash on the field, only to find they have something in common: grief. Soon, they become enemies to friends to far more, despite the rules that prohibit them from dating each other. Will romance get in the way of them following their dreams?

On the surface, Playing for Keeps seems like a fun, sweet young adult sapphic romance. The initial set-up gives us sharp, bittersweet enemies to lovers potential between a pitch and an umpire. Seems cute and fluffy, right? No one is that one-dimensional, though. Both Ivy and June are struggling with the loss of a loved one, balancing that on top of unrealistic expectations from their parents and the pressures they put on themselves to succeed. Add in the pressure you get from sports alone and it’s enough to make anyone crumble. Ivy and June find happiness in each other, through stolen moments as they date in secret, wary that the conflict of interest between them will tear them apart. There’s a potential for them to heal through one another, alongside one another, while learning how to navigate the external forces of loss while growing up.

I loved that both Ivy and June were pursuing career paths that don’t often make space for women. I would have liked to see more focus on that, though. It was sweet to see how the male players on the baseball team were quick to support June, but I expected to see more pushback (either from her team or other teams) to show (not tell us) how she struggled and still persevered.

Unfortunately, the story is so rushed, so many scenes time-jumped, emotions mentioned but not illustrated, that I didn’t FEEL anything while reading this story. With the topic of grief, whether a character is processing it or trying to avoid it, readers should have an easy time sympathizing with the characters. Instead, the grief feels like a plot point, a reason for potential enemies to connect and eventually become more.

Even with little jumps, the story lagged. Dugan has a tendency to pair selfless characters with less reasonable counterparts, which we certainly see between Ivy and June. Given that, it’s difficult to root for both girls. Yes, they’re both grieving, and yes, they both deserve happiness, but their actions are exhausting and (yes, I know it’s YA) juvenile at times. Though the two girls had so much in common, the miscommunication trope constantly tugged them in opposite directions.

Recommended for fans of Some Girls Do, Home Field Advantage, and Cool for the Summer.

The Vibes
⚾ Enemies to Lovers
⚾ Young Adult Romance
⚾ Sapphic Romance
⚾ Forbidden Love
⚾ Lesbian & Bi FMCs
⚾ Sports Romance
⚾ Grief
⚾ Pressure From Parents
⚾ Miscommunication

Quotes

“Expecting it means I can prepare for it, plan for it, and figure out a way to keep my cool in its face. What I didn’t expect, though, was for there to be an extremely attractive girl throwing balls at about seventy-five billion miles per hour, striking out dumb boys left and right, like some kind of varsity, all-star Black Widow.”

“There’s a lot of pressure on girls to conform, to become nice women, to do what’s expected. Smile more, whiten your teeth, lose the weight, don’t be too loud or too funny or too much. Make yourself less so the boys can feel like more. Don’t wear spaghetti straps or you might tempt them. Hold yourself accountable for the both of you, so they don’t have to.”

A Sapphic Nova Scotia Gothic: A Sweet Sting of Salt by Rose Sutherland

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A Sweet Sting of Salt by Rose Sutherland cover

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I couldn’t tell you why, but I am obsessed with sapphic selkie stories. There are very few of them out there, but I leap on the chance to read any that I stumble upon. Don’t get me wrong: I like sapphic mermaids, too, but there’s something about a sapphic selkie story that hooks me like no other. So it’s not surprise that A Sweet Sting of Salt was one of my most anticipated releases of the year.

This is such an immersive story. It’s a Nova Scotia gothic, and I could feel the spray of waves crashing against rocks as I read it. Sutherland describes this seaside town in loving detail, even as the main character has a less rosy view of it. Jean has been an outsider since she was caught with another woman when she was younger. Her girlfriend was sent away to marry a French man—despite not being able to speak French—to Jean’s heartbreak. Luckily, Jean was taken in by the local midwife, and now she has earned the town’s begrudging respect as an extremely skilled midwife herself.

Helping someone give birth is an everyday occurrence for Jean, but not the way it happens this night. She wakes up to the sound of a woman screaming outside and finds a stranger in labour outdoors in the middle of a storm. She brings Muirin inside and helps her, though Muirin doesn’t speak any English. Jean finds out that Muirin is the wife of her neighbour Tobias, but it’s very strange that Tobias didn’t let her know about the pregnancy, and Muirin is reluctant to go home.

As you’d expect from a gothic, the tension and danger slowly ratchets up over the course of the story. First, we get to see Muirin and Jean become friends as Jean teaches her English and assists with the baby. Jean’s mother committed suicide shortly after she was born, so she’s attentive to new mothers’ mental states, determined to prevent that from happening to any of her charges. Soon, though, she finds herself falling for Muirin in spite of her best efforts not to.

Maybe it’s inevitable in this sort of story, but I was surprised that the main character doesn’t find out that Muirin is a selkie until well into the book. It’s in the marketing, so the reader knows right away. I don’t love having information the main character doesn’t for that long, but that’s a personal preference.

By the end of A Sweet Sting of Salt, I was reminded of Carmen Maria Machado’s “The Husband Stitch.” “The Girl With the Green Ribbon” and “The Selkie Wife” share a similar premise, a women’s horror story: the idea of sacrificing everything for your husband/children and it not being enough. Women are so often expected to be completely subsumed by the role of wife and mother until there’s nothing left that’s just theirs. These feminist retellings make that message shine through, and they show that a truly loving and equitable relationship means being able to keep something for yourself.

I liked the dynamic between the practical to a fault Jean and mysterious, passionate Muirin. Muirin picks up language at an unnatural rate, so they are able to communicate even when they don’t completely share a language. I also appreciated the side characters, including Jean’s mentor midwife and mother figure, who is Indigenous, and a character who is coded autistic. I always appreciate when historical fiction has a diverse cast. We also get to see how Jean’s former girlfriend’s life turned out, which was a pleasant subversion of my expectations.

While I didn’t like knowing the reveal hundreds of pages before the main character did, that was a pretty minor complaint. A Sweet Sting of Salt was an immersive read perfect for fans of queer retellings, folklore, gothics, and seaside settings.