Home Run is such a fun romance! The second in Heidi McLaughlin’s Boys of Summer series, Home Run features star rookie Cooper Bailey, who falls in love with zoo event coordinator Ainsley Burke. Unfortunately, he needs to focus on his training, as he’s competing for his spot with veteran center fielder Steve Bainbridge, who had just decided not to retire. Cooper also has to deal with his father, who is the ultimate helicopter dad and practically bullies his son into eschewing anything not directly related to his sports career.

Adding to the barriers from their happily ever after, Ainsley has also made a vow to never date athletes. Partly because it makes no sense for a Florida resident to date a baseball player when he’ll be moving back to Boston after spring training is over, but also partly because both she and her mother have had their hearts broken in the past. by athletes. Ainsley is also dealing with her mother’s battle with cancer; she’s really close to her mother and, confronted with the possibility of losing her, she simply has no time or energy to waste on romance.

Still, when they meet, the sparks are immediate and intense, and when they go on dates, their compatibility becomes even more evident. I love Home Run because the characters are so real and the chemistry between them just sparkles right off the page. I use “sparkles” rather than “sizzles” because, despite the very real problems that keep the hero and heroine apart, there’s a fairy tale quality to this romance, and the chemistry between them isn’t so much sexual as it is an easy fit.

Home Run is a character-driven sports romance where much of the drama is caused by the main characters’ relationships with their families. It’s relatable and such a fun read. It’s the first Heidi McLaughlin book I’ve read, and I’m excited to check out her other titles.

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Thank you to Hachette Book Group Canada for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Bang picks up on a story we hear about far too often — a parent carelessly left their gun out in the open, their child picks it up, and tragedy ensues. Whenever these stories are posted on social media, responses usually range from advocating for tighter gun control regulations to arguing for more sympathy rather than censure for the family. Bang is about one such child, Sebastian Cody, who accidentally shot and killed his infant sister when he was four, and is still feeling the aftermath ten years later.

I’m familiar with Barry Lyga’s work because of his I Hunt Killers trilogy, and with such a potentially explosive premise and cover art, I was expecting a thriller somewhere along those lines. I expected Sebastian to be utterly haunted by his actions, and possibly face serial killer-ish urges deeply buried in his psyche.

Lyga subverted my expectations, in a way that forced me to confront my own biases about families who own guns. Rather than a dark psychological thriller, Bang is a surprisingly gentle and emotional tale of a young boy who grew up being blamed for something he had no control over. He lives everyday with the knowledge that his action led to the circumstances that caused his parents’ marriage to decline. He goes to school knowing that his classmates and teachers all know what he did to his sister, and even if they don’t outwardly blame him for it, he can still feel their judgement.

This in itself would make a powerful novel, but Lyga ups the ante by drawing a parallel between the censure Sebastian experiences to the discrimination Muslims in America face. The Fahim family moves into the neighbourhood, and their teenage daughter Aneesa quickly befriends Sebastian. She’s an awesome, kick-ass character and is a fantastic foil to Sebastian’s introspection, and her friendship gives Sebastian the opportunity to be with someone who knows nothing about his past. Aneesa also wears a hijab, and while she often faces Islamophobia with humour (e.g. she suggests titling a YouTube video “Muslim girl eats pizza” rather than “girl eats pizza” to increase the views), she is also candid about its more serious implications (e.g. hoping a bombing on the news was caused by a white person rather than a Muslim).

Bang is a quietly powerful book. There’s humour and lightheartedness to balance out the tragedy of its subject matter, making it an immensely readable book with an emotional punch.

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Thank you to Hachette Book Group Canada for an advance reading copy in exchange for an honest review.

There’s a Tagalog word that best encapsulates how I feel about Sandhya Menon’s YA romance When Dimple Met Rishi: kilig. Its closest English translation would probably be “the feels,” but as anyone who grew up with a first language other than English can attest, only one’s mother tongue can fully encapsulate the depth of emotion one has felt. When Dimple Met Rishi is probably one of the best YA romances I’ve read in a long time, and the character of Rishi is also the first in a long time I’ve actually claimed a YA character as a book boyfriend. I absolutely adored this book. I immediately recommended it to an old acquaintance in the Philippines who writes “clean romances,” and as of this writing, I plan to pass on my copy to a teenage niece who I hope will enjoy it as much as I did.

When Dimple Met Rishi is about two brilliant Indian-American teens whose families have arranged their marriage. Dimple Shah is an aspiring computer coder who rebels against her family’s expectation that she’ll settle down with an “Ideal Indian Husband,” and signs up for computer camp in the hopes of impressing an app developer she admires. Rishi Patel is a romantic who is content to adhere to his parents’ traditions, and the summer before he begins at MIT, registers for computer camp so he can meet his future wife. When they meet, Dimple is horrified that this guy she’s never met could jeopardize her future, and Rishi realizes that things aren’t quite turning out the way he’d imagined.

I absolutely loved both characters, and their meet-cute made me laugh. I love how, despite Dimple’s rebelliousness against tradition, tradition itself isn’t presented as wholly a bad thing, and Dimple herself still also admits that she still feels bound to her parents’ expectations. In fact, one of the ways she and Rishi bond is that he understands how important her family is to her life, in a way that’s somewhat different from how family is important in North American culture.

Rishi is also a fantastic character. He’s a bit more of a starry eyed romantic than the type of guy I’d usually fall for, but there’s something utterly charming about mix of awkwardness and confidence. In my absolute favourite scene, when some snobbish rich kids from camp make Dimple uncomfortable at a fancy dinner, Rishi stands up for her and completely catches them off-guard. Unlike Dimple, he comes from a wealthy family, and I love that he’s so comfortable with who he is even when he doesn’t quite fit in.

I also loved the development of their relationship, particularly as each of them helps bring out the best in the other. Rishi helps Dimple become less self-conscious and more comfortable in her own skin, mostly by being so comfortable in his own. Dimple in turn helps Rishi face his secret longing to produce comic book art, despite his plans to fulfil his parents’ wishes and attend MIT.

When Dimple Met Rishi is a sweet romance and an absolute delight to read. I love how nerdy both main characters are, and I especially love that this fantastic story is part of a (hopefully) rising trend towards more diverse representation in contemporary literature. I highly recommend it to all YA-loving nerds out there who may enjoy imagining what it would be like to spend a summer with the nerd of your dreams.

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Thank you to Simon and Schuster Canada for an advance reading copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.