Bare with me for a moment as I go on a tangent. Recently, I’ve been obsessed with re-watching the Netflix adaptation of Alice Oseman’s Heartstopper series and IÂ couldn’t realize why other than it’s a fantastic series and adaptation, but then I read this book and it all clicked into place: queer joy.
Growing up in the 1990s/early-2000s I’d say 85%+ of all depictions of LGBT characters were tragic or left to interpretation and this is a prime example of that. Having the opportunity to watch Charlie and Nick in Heartstopper as they discover happiness and joy, even with setbacks, mental health issues, and added TV drama, is just such a wonderful feeling of relief and joy that I float along every time I watch it or listen to the soundtrack or think about it. And this is in stark contrast to Roy and Nathan, the protagonists of Grimsley’s second foray into the novel.
This is a dark ass book and a perfect example of what happens when I read too many MM Romances. I’m guessing I read the first part of the synopsis and either didn’t finish or blocked out the last portion when/after I requested a review copy.*
Only a very small part of me wishes I could say this was the first Jane Austen/Vampire fiction mash-up I’ve read. I can’t even lie and say this is the second. I read the Jane Fairfax trilogy by Michael Thomas Ford (
I don’t want to generalize things, but we’ve all seen the headlines about someone’s world being shattered in an instant. We’ve all seen, heard about or experienced some after-effects of terrorism at this point. We hear about the people who commit these acts, we hear about those that die and those that survive, but what we rarely hear about are those that are left.