Hannah Bonam-Young

Misses by a long shot

Struggled to finish this but couldn’t. DNFed at 81%. Second half better than first but the FMC was just impossible to like. In the beginning, the MCs’ behaviours are inconsistent- never know if the weak or strong version will show up and, sometimes, the switch is so quick, it gives you whiplash. However, once they enter their conflict (her decade-old hangup) midway through the book, it’s easier to be more invested in the story. Ultimately though, the FMC is basically selfish and the MMC is rather…bland. Try as the author might to make us imagine Jason Momoa, it just doesn’t track. Everything feels token and superficial, which, when trying to be “diverse”, just becomes insulting. Did not enjoy.… (más)

A single POV romance about unexpected parenthood. Chloe is embarking on life after university when she gets a phone call to say that her birth mother has had a premature baby, and Chloe is a candidate to become a next-of-kin carer.

Chloe has a decent-sized apartment but her burgeoning freelance career as a graphic designer isn’t enough to convince the authorities she’s sufficiently financially secure. She is encouraged to join forces with another would-be carer, Warren, who has a steady job but hasn’t been able to find a suitable housing close to his teenage brother’s school for the Deaf.

There’s an inevitable romance and while I liked seeing the two of them support each other, I was much more interested in the experiences of becoming a carer for a younger sibling -- and of having a baby staying in the neonatal intensive care unit. My youngest sibling was born early and spent months in NICU. Unlike Chloe, I was a child myself at that time but old enough that I remember vividly (some of) what that was like for my family. It’s an experience I haven’t seen portrayed in fiction before.… (más)

The combination of the title and the cover caught my eye. Win has a less-developed right hand and Bo is an amputee. Their story begins with a one-night stand resulting in pregnancy, which is not the sort of romance I tend to go for.

But it was clearly an important story to tell about these characters, because of the way their limb difference has shaped Win and Bo’s respective fears about parenthood and about whether they each should, or even could, conceive a child.

But this… this is what bittersweet means.
All ten fingers and toes.
Every sense of relief is sharply followed by shame. Every wave of shame is met with confusion. Confusion gives way to guilt. I immediately want to reassure myself that I wouldn’t have loved the baby less if they’d had my hand. That I don’t love myself any less than I would have if I had two fully formed hands. Even if I already know those things to be true, I still feel the need to repeat it, over and over. But my initial reaction was relief.
[...] “Well…” Bo sighs out, his tone deceptively serious, in juxtaposition with the twitch of his lips. “We’ll still love them, of course. Even if they’re, you know”—he grimaces—“four-limbed.”
I huff out a long breath, grateful for his deflection. “Disappointed?” I ask, slowly lowering my shirt and sitting up on the bed.
Bo’s lips shift into a wistful smile as he picks up my right hand from the mattress and squeezes it once. “No… but I’m not relieved either.”

… (más)