A Haunting, Tender Tale of Grief and Quiet Hope

 Review – The Gravedigger’s Handbook by Jern Tonkoi

Jern Tonkoi is quickly becoming one of my favourite authors, and The Gravedigger’s Handbook is exactly the kind of story that proves why. No matter which genre he touches, his novels are always heartfelt, unhurried, and deeply human. This one is sweet in its own ghost-lit way—steady, gentle, and guided by the slow rhythm of life breathing in and out.

Lucien is the caretaker of an old cemetery above Pontarçon. His days are shaped by quiet routines: tending headstones, trimming bushes, keeping the flowers fresh. The cemetery feels almost suspended in time—a sanctuary where the seasons turn softly, where the dead linger just long enough to find peace. Lucien can see and speak to some of them, and helping these ghosts cross over gives his own life a meaning he rarely allows himself.

Scarred both physically and emotionally, abandoned young and taken in by the former caretaker, Lucien has lived in this place for years. The graveyard becomes refuge and home, its silence a balm, its dead his closest companions. It’s a solitary existence, but a familiar and safe one… until Nat arrives.

Nat is young, hurting, searching for something that might spark the will to live again. An artist who has lost his fire, he finds in Lucien a muse he didn’t expect. He sketches him piece by piece—first a hand, then the curve of a shoulder, the line of a jaw. In learning to draw the details, he begins to truly see the man beneath the hood, beyond the scars, beyond the solitude.

"To be the centre of his gaze feels like standing in the eye of a storm. Terrifying. Beautiful. Impossible to leave."

It’s a beautiful metaphor for the emotional heart of the story: that slow, intense moment when someone starts seeing you more clearly than you see yourself.

We never get a complete physical description of either character—just splotches of detail, fragments of fabric and shadows—but we come to know them intimately through their grief. Lucien, who has spent years waiting for a father who never accepted him. Nat, who mourns the life he lost and sometimes can only sit by a gravestone, waiting for meaning to return.

Together, sketch by sketch, night after night, they pull each other slightly closer to healing, simply by staying, listening, and witnessing each other’s pain.

"A friend isn't the one who talks you out of the dark—it's the one who keeps the lantern burning till you find your way out."

This line feels written for Lucien and Nat. Their connection isn’t about saving each other dramatically—it’s about presence, patience, and the small, steady light of companionship.

Spoilers below — click to reveal

The first twist is that Nat is not a ghost, though Lucien truly believed he was. While Nat never pretended, Lucien only saw what he hoped to see, and the truth blindsides him. Nat is living, breathing—someone who can walk away at any moment—and for Lucien, that possibility feels like betrayal.

After a painful confrontation, the two separate. Nat completes the portrait, and when Lucien finally sees himself captured on paper—his grief, his longing, his quiet will to live—something shifts. He gathers his courage, leaves the safety of the cemetery, and seeks Nat out, bringing him the final piece that will launch his artistic career.

In doing so, Lucien allows himself to be seen by the living for the first time in years. And that’s when we learn the final truth: Lucien was the ghost all along.

His story has been one of waiting—waiting to be loved, accepted, understood. In death, he finally finds peace knowing he was truly seen and loved for who he was. And Nat, in turn, finds the spark that brings him back to life.

The ending is bittersweet, but in the most perfect way: gentle, mournful, and full of quiet hope. It leaves you with that fragile blend of sadness and warmth that lingers long after the last page.

If you’re drawn to queer gothic intimacy, atmospheric rural settings, grief-tinged tenderness, and slow, immersive storytelling that unfolds like mist at dawn, this novel is a gem. Not a conventional HEA, but a luminous one that feels exactly right for these characters.

The Tobias & Stuart Trilogy by Jern Tonkoi — A Quiet, Cosmic, Heart-Wrenching Journey

 Some trilogies sweep you along with action and plot twists. Others pull you in with loud drama and big declarations. Jern Tonkoi’s Tobias & Stuart trilogy does something different: it whispers. It moves slowly, thoughtfully, almost cautiously at times — and somehow ends up hitting harder than loud books ever do.

Across The Day Music Died, In the Shadow of Death, and The Curse of Time, Tonkoi builds a universe where cosmic forces walk the earth, where Music and Time and Death have voices, and where two deeply human, beautifully flawed men keep finding each other in the middle of it all.

A Love Story That Isn’t the Centerpiece — And That’s Its Charm

One of the things that makes this trilogy so special is the way it lets the romance breathe without ever turning it into the main attraction. Tobias and Stuart’s relationship runs alongside the larger narrative, not over it — a steady, quiet thread rather than the tapestry itself. The books follow Tobias for most of the journey (and Stuart later on), but the true heart of the trilogy lies with the cosmic forces shaping everything around them. Time, Death, and Music are not just ideas; they are active players in a much bigger convergence that unfolds little by little across the three books.

We only begin to understand the full scope of what’s happening once we reach the final volume, yet the human element is never overshadowed. Tobias’s personal choices — his mistakes, hesitations, small acts of courage — ripple outward in ways he doesn’t fully grasp until much later. The beauty of the trilogy is how seamlessly the intimate and the cosmic intertwine.

Book One: The Day Music Died — Where It All Begins

The opening book is quiet and atmospheric, the kind of story that feels simple on the surface but leaves an imprint long after you’re done. Tobias is searching — for meaning, for connection, for the missing parts of himself — and the book follows him with tender, lyrical melancholy. Romance exists, but softly, like a faint melody shaping the emotional landscape rather than taking center stage.

Book Two: In the Shadow of Death — Where Everything Breaks

Then the trilogy takes a sharp turn. The second book is heavier, darker, and emotionally intense. What began as a gentle, melancholy journey becomes a confrontation with trauma, inner battles, and the raw edges of survival. Bigger forces enter the scene, the stakes rise, and the universe around Tobias and Stuart grows far more dangerous. It’s a tough read in places — in the best way — but it deepens every thread woven in the first book.

Book Three: The Curse of Time — Where It All Comes Together

The final installment blends the intimacy of book one with the cosmic scope of book two. Here, the story slows down again, giving Tobias and Stuart space to breathe, falter, rebuild, and choose each other with intention. The cosmic puzzle finally snaps into place, but the narrative never lets go of its emotional core. It’s a bittersweet farewell — hopeful, imperfect, and quietly luminous.

Why This Trilogy Stays With You

The Tobias & Stuart trilogy stands out for its balance: apocalyptic wonder wrapped around deep human vulnerability. It handles trauma, healing, found family, queer love, and the small tender moments that carry people through dark times. It’s not a fast-paced or traditionally romantic series, but it is heartfelt, thoughtful, and rich with emotional resonance.

Final Thoughts

Closing this trilogy felt like resurfacing from deep water — peaceful, a little shaken, and grateful for the journey. Tobias and Stuart aren’t perfect heroes; they’re messy, wounded, stubborn men who keep trying, and that’s exactly why they linger in your mind. Their love isn’t loud, but it’s steady. And the universe Tonkoi builds around them only amplifies their story’s quiet power.

If you enjoy queer speculative fiction with tenderness, cosmic strangeness, emotional depth, and stories that take their time, this trilogy is absolutely worth reading.

Venomous lies, by Suki Rose

Venomous Lies by Suki Rose
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Venomous Lies is the second installment in the Greywood Conservatory series, and once again it left me with more questions than answers — but in the best possible way. With each book, the bigger picture starts to take shape, and I’m hooked.

The plot was intriguing, weaving the mystery of the campus murders together with the chaos of Isla’s personal life and her complex web of relationships. I really enjoyed the use of multiple POVs, including perspectives from characters who still feel like they’re waiting in the wings — it adds depth and gives the sense that there’s so much more to uncover.

What stood out the most for me were the messy, complicated dynamics between Isla and her mates (or potential mates). They’re tense, emotional, sometimes frustrating, but always compelling. That push and pull kept me turning the pages.

This was a really engaging read, and I can’t wait to see where the series goes next — because if one thing’s certain, Greywood Conservatory is nowhere near done with its secrets.

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Kane brothers, by Erica Jade

Kane Brothers by Erica Jade
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I really enjoyed this installment! Kane Brothers is book three in the Men of Dark Harbor series, and what I loved right from the start is how it revisits events from book two—but this time through different eyes. Seeing the other side of what happened not only clarified some details, it made the whole world feel even richer.

Once the series’ larger plotline takes a bit of a breather, the focus shifts to the love story, and it was so well done. Rain’s struggle—torn between two brothers, fighting for independence while at the same time craving their possession—was intense, emotional, and compelling. I also appreciated how the story weaves in themes of reconciling painful pasts with the desire to choose happiness.

And of course… the spice. Let’s just say it definitely delivered, breaking up the darker moments with heat and tension. While this is still very much a dark romance (so readers should keep the content warnings in mind), it felt a touch lighter than the previous books—though just as steamy.

I’d definitely recommend starting from the beginning of the series to get the full effect, but if you’ve been following along, you don’t want to miss this one. That cliffhanger has me desperate for the next book!

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The day Music died, by Jern Tonkoi

The Day Music Died: A queer speculative romance of memory, longing, and the magic of being seen by Jern Tonkoi
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is one of those quiet, slow-building stories that lingers long after the last page. At first, not much seems to be happening — Tonkoi spends time layering context, history, and atmosphere — but by the end, the emotional weight really hits. It’s lyrical, thoughtful, and deeply sentimental in a way that stayed with me.

The characters aren’t drawn with a lot of detail, yet they feel alive and achingly real. Tobias, in particular, is at the heart of the story: a man haunted by absence, searching for the piece of himself that’s always felt missing, whether in others or in Music itself.

Despite the subtitle, this isn’t a conventional romance. Love is here, yes, but it’s more subdued — not the main spotlight, but a steady undercurrent that shapes Tobias’s journey. And when it does surface, it feels quiet, tender, and inevitable.

If you’re looking for fast-paced action or heavy romance tropes, this may not be the right fit. But if you enjoy speculative fiction that explores memory, identity, and the bittersweet magic of being truly seen, The Day Music Died is a beautiful, lingering read.

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A wreck, you make me by Saffron A. Kent

A Wreck, You Make Me by Saffron A. Kent
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A Wreck, You Make Me is a dark romance that leans heavily on taboo elements and a love-hate dynamic.

What I appreciated most was the MMC’s arc: coming from a troubled past, he struggles to process emotions, open up, and allow himself happiness with the heroine. That layer of vulnerability, paired with the slow realization of what he really feels, gave the romance some genuine depth. I also liked the underlying theme of longing and unspoken love—watching those moments break through the toxic dynamic kept me invested.

That said, other aspects didn’t fully work for me. The “stepbrother/incest” vibe is pushed strongly, but since the characters aren’t actually related—not even by law—the taboo didn’t feel convincing, more like a device for added drama. On top of that, the bullying and humiliation sometimes went too far, crossing into territory that, for me, doesn’t sit comfortably in a romantic framework. Rather than deepening the story, the darker tropes often felt included for shock value.

Overall, I enjoyed the emotional pull of the romance when framed through the hero’s struggles, but the emphasis on taboo and toxic dynamics overshadowed it at times. Readers who enjoy darker, boundary-pushing romances may find more to love here, but I personally would have preferred more focus on the healing and emotional connection.

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Everywhere You Look by Emily Shacklette – A Love Story Beyond the Expected

 Some books make you feel seen. Others crack your heart open. And then there are books like Everywhere You Look—that somehow manage to do both.

Emily Shacklette’s novel is a breathtaking blend of grief, love, and found family, and while there is a romantic story at its core, this book is so much more than a romance. It’s about stepping up when life breaks your heart. About building something lasting in the middle of chaos. And about learning that sometimes, love doesn’t shout—it simply stays.

🖤 The Weight and Beauty of Grief

Grief is a constant presence in this book—not something to be overcome, but something to be carried. And it’s not just Luke’s grief for his sister, Gigi, that’s portrayed. The pain is magnified through the eyes of her three small daughters, who ask heartbreaking questions like “when is mommy coming home?” It’s gutting, and it’s real. Their innocence makes the loss feel even sharper, and Shacklette handles it with so much care and respect. These children are not plot devices—they’re people, and their mourning is as important as Luke’s.

👨‍👧‍👧 Parenthood, Not By Choice—but By Heart

Luke is young, injured, freshly retired from professional football, and suddenly the guardian of three children. And yet, never once does he resent his role. There’s no bitterness, no “poor me” attitude. He simply does the work. He rolls up his sleeves and puts his nieces first—even when it costs him. That quiet, determined love made me fall for him completely.

The parenting in this book is messy and exhausting, but also tender and full of grace. And while the trope of the “fake marriage” can often feel like a shortcut in romance, here it felt earned and deeply intentional. Luke and Dean marry not to justify the romantic arc, but because it’s the best decision for their family’s stability. It’s practical, it’s believable, and it actually adds emotional tension rather than resolving it.

💔 Dean Deserves the World

Let’s talk about Dean. Because while Luke’s emotional arc is front and center, Dean’s slow-burning heartbreak is what really hit me. He gives up everything—his home, his plans, his freedom—just to help Luke, and for a long stretch of the story, Luke doesn’t see it. He’s so focused on what Dean is giving up that he misses what Dean is gaining: a purpose, a home, and a real partner.

Their relationship builds slowly, unevenly. Luke is ready to move things forward before Dean is—and the moment when Dean finally snaps and lets out all the feelings he’s been burying was absolutely raw. That scene where everything comes to a head had me holding my breath. But then comes that soft, real conversation: “I wish we’d done this sooner.” And Luke’s quiet realization that rushing into romance would’ve destroyed their friendship—that was everything. It’s so rare to see a love story where the emotional bond is given more weight than the physical.

🧸 Tension, Levity, and a Whole Lot of Disney

Despite the heavy themes, the book never drowns in its own sadness. The girls bring light and humor into every scene they’re in. Luke and Dean might be dealing with custody issues, trauma, and unresolved feelings, but there’s still movie nights, snacks, chaotic bedtime routines. There’s joy in the everyday, and it keeps the story grounded and hopeful.

The writing flows beautifully, with a clear narrative and dual POVs that add richness and emotional nuance. Getting both Luke and Dean’s perspectives allowed me to connect with them equally—especially when they were seeing the same events so differently.

🌅 A Future We Can Believe In

By the time I reached the end, I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted to see how this family would grow, how the girls would flourish, how Luke and Dean would evolve as partners and parents. And yet, the way Shacklette ends the story—just a few weeks later, with their new life gently unfolding—felt just right. It’s not a “happily ever after” tied up with a bow, but a quiet, hopeful look toward the future.

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Final Thoughts

Everywhere You Look is a story about loss and healing, but also about showing up for the people you love, even when it’s hard. Even when it breaks you a little. It’s about choosing your family, again and again, and letting love grow at its own pace. I cried, I laughed, I underlined a dozen passages, and I will absolutely be rereading this one.

If you’re in the mood for something emotionally rich, deeply human, and profoundly comforting—this book belongs on your shelf.

More Than Fluff – A Heartfelt Journey in The Jackass in Class

 Every once in a while, you pick up a book expecting a few laughs, maybe some steam, and a cozy little distraction from the world—and instead, you get something that quietly, unexpectedly wraps itself around your heart. That’s exactly what happened when I read The Jackass in Class by Amy Award. I’ve read the previous books in the Kingman series, and while they all bring that signature mix of heart and humor, this one hit different. Here’s why.

I went into The Jackass in Class by Amy Award expecting a light, fun romance to brighten up a weekend. And yes, I got the chaos, the sass, the unexpected donkey, the hot jock, and the quirky supporting cast that I’ve come to love in this series. But what I didn’t expect was the emotional resonance that would stay with me long after the final page.

On the surface, the plot isn’t particularly groundbreaking—grumpy-sunshine, enemies-to-lovers, forced proximity via a tutoring program—but it’s comfortingly familiar in the best way. A cozy, low-stakes setup that disguises the emotional gut punches that come later.

Tempest Navarro is the heart of this book. A secret romance author, anxious and curvy, hiding a baby donkey and a thousand insecurities in her sorority house. She’s the kind of heroine we don’t get enough of—soft, smart, sharp-tongued, and battling demons most readers will recognize. Her journey isn’t just about falling for the campus heartthrob; it’s about learning to take up space, speak up for herself, and stop shrinking to fit others’ expectations.

And Flynn Kingman? He’s more than just the typical sports romance lead. Behind the charm and football stardom is a man who’s lived in fear of loss since he lost his mother as a child. His emotional arc—particularly a late scene with his father—hit me so hard I genuinely teared up. That conversation about grief and how it reshapes us was quietly devastating, but also incredibly healing. Flynn’s realization that safety and distance don’t equate to living fully is a truth so many need to hear.

The book is marketed as fluff, and while it’s certainly funny, sexy, and a joy to read, it’s so much more. It's a love letter to the girls who’ve been told they’re too much or not enough. To the women who have to fight to be heard, to be seen, to be loved as they are. Tempest’s voice, and the vulnerability behind her sass, make this a standout read.

And yes, there’s a donkey. And yes, the family chaos is top-tier. And yes, the spice is sizzling. But what elevates this from "fun romance" to "must-reread" is the way Amy Award threads real emotional depth through every laugh and kiss.

Also, there’s a small but powerful commentary on the value of romance and smut in our culture—how they’re often dismissed as trashy or indulgent, when in reality, they’re a lifeline for many readers. That conversation alone makes this book worth defending in every literary discussion.

If you’re already a fan of the Kingman siblings, you’ll love revisiting the world. But if this is your first entry, don’t worry—each book stands on its own. Just be ready to laugh, cry, and maybe hug your inner teen a little tighter.

Final Thoughts:
This isn’t just a feel-good romance—it’s a feel-seen story. I’ll be rereading it whenever I need to remind myself to take up space, fight for joy, and embrace softness as strength. Highly, highly recommended.

Review – Bite Marks and Broken Hearts by T. J. Rose

Bite Marks & Broken Hearts by T.J. Rose
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This MM paranormal romance absolutely sank its fangs into me from the first chapter and didn’t let go until the very end! Bite Marks and Broken Hearts is a gripping, emotional ride that delivers a perfect mix of mystery, romance, and spice—without ever feeling unbalanced.

One of the things I loved most was the banter. The dialogue between the characters was sharp, funny, and full of chemistry—it made the connection between the MCs feel all the more authentic. And it wasn’t just the leads who stood out: even the secondary characters were well-developed and memorable, adding real depth to the story world.

The plot kept me hooked with its steady build of tension and mystery. I was genuinely kept guessing until the final reveals, which is always a win in my book. At the same time, the romance had space to breathe—there were beautiful, slower moments woven into the fast-paced urgency of the plot, giving the emotional arc of the MMCs room to shine.

Speaking of the emotional journey—wow. The angst, the yearning, the vulnerability... it all felt so real. I appreciated how the author didn’t shy away from letting the characters be messy and raw. Their growth and the connection between them felt earned.

The double POV added another layer of richness, letting us see the story unfold from two very different perspectives, and highlighting the unique strengths and vulnerabilities of each protagonist. And the pacing? Spot on. It mirrored the characters’ growing sense of urgency while still taking the time to develop the romance.

T. J. Rose’s writing is fluid and compelling—it was easy to lose myself in the pages. Overall, this book hit all the right notes for me. I’m definitely looking forward to seeing where the next installment takes us!


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The Fake Dating Agreement by Ember L. Nicole

✨ A reverse harem hockey romance with heart, healing, and hard truths ✨

What starts as a delicious revenge plot quickly turns into a touching and deeply emotional journey in The Fake Dating Agreement by Ember L. Nicole. This reverse harem, hockey romance surprised me in all the best ways. Yes, it has the tropes we all love — fake dating, three swoony hockey players, and a woman reclaiming her power — but it also dives much deeper, exploring identity, growth, invisible struggles, and the real meaning of choosing happiness.

The story kicks off with the FMC discovering that her long-term boyfriend has been cheating on her — on their sixth anniversary, no less. Cue heartbreak... and then enter three ridiculously hot hockey players with a proposition to help her get some sweet, sweet revenge. Sounds like fun? It is. But that’s only the beginning.

What I loved most is how the author takes us beyond the trope and into something meaningful. The “fake” relationship morphs into a process of discovery, not just for the FMC but for each of the three MMCs as well. She doesn’t just fall into bed with them — she gets to know them. Each relationship unfolds at its own pace, reflecting their unique personalities, wounds, and hopes. And they, in turn, see her, support her, and remind her that she’s so much more than what her ex made her believe.

The hockey backdrop is just that — a backdrop. It’s not the central plot, but rather a lens into the lives of the MMCs. For them, hockey is more than a sport: it’s their whole world, their coping mechanism, their identity. But as the story evolves, so do they. They begin to see that life is more than a game, and that sometimes, choosing joy, connection, and vulnerability takes more strength than chasing a puck.

Another standout element is the representation of invisible disability. The FMC lives with Hashimoto’s disease — a chronic, often misunderstood condition. I really appreciated how the author handled this with care and realism. The FMC’s discomfort with sharing her illness felt incredibly authentic, and the sensitivity shown by the MMCs was genuinely heartwarming. Chronic fatigue and feeling "lazy" to others is such a common but painful part of invisible illnesses, and this story highlights that struggle in a way that will speak to many readers.

On the steam scale, I’d say this lands at about a 2.5/5 — nothing overly explicit or gratuitous, but enough to feel intimate and meaningful. In a college RH romance, you expect hormones, curiosity, and kink exploration — and this book gives you all of that, but with a focus on connection over shock value. Every scene felt like it served the emotional arc rather than simply trying to spice things up, which I really appreciated.

As for my own reading experience? I was hooked. Was everything 100% realistic? Maybe not. But I didn’t care. I found myself grinning like a fool at the tender moments, swept up in the emotional honesty and support these characters showed one another. I read it in a single day — it was one of those books where you just don’t want to stop turning the pages.

And if I had to choose a favorite? It would be Caleb. All three guys are sweet, caring, and sexy in their own ways, but Caleb was the one who took the longest to open up. He held on tightly to his pain, and watching him gradually let the FMC (and us!) in was incredibly satisfying. The moment that sealed it for me? The street hockey game, where Caleb convinces the whole team to skip practice just to cheer on a group of kids he randomly met. It was such a subtle but powerful act of kindness — one that showed his heart more clearly than any grand gesture ever could.

From a technical standpoint, the writing flows beautifully. The pacing is tight and purposeful, with smooth time jumps that let the story focus on key emotional beats without getting bogged down in the day-to-day.

Final thoughts:
The Fake Dating Agreement is more than a spicy RH romance — it’s a celebration of healing, growth, and letting go of what doesn’t serve you anymore. It’s about being brave enough to want more, and about finding love — not just in others, but within yourself. Add in thoughtful chronic illness rep and layered character development, and you’ve got a gem worth picking up.

🌟 Rating: 4.5/5
✏️ While some scenes may feel slightly heightened or idealized, the emotional core is so strong and sincere that I couldn’t put it down — a book that makes you feel good without losing depth.
❤️‍🔥 Tropes: Reverse harem, fake dating, found family, emotional healing, supportive MMCs
🏒 Content warnings: Cheating ex, chronic illness (Hashimoto’s), emotional abuse (past), mild on-page angst