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Sage Byrd has lived in the coastal town of Spunes, Oregon (not to be confused with Forks, Washington) her entire life. She's learned to love her small world, with the misfit animals on her hobby farm, and her friendships with the town's inhabitants. But when her 5-year relationship ends and her ex, town-golden-boy Ian, suddenly gets engaged, Sage needs a win - something that will convince everyone to stop pitying her all the time, and to put Ian in his place. The Festival of Spunes, the town's annual summer competition, would be the perfect opportunity. She just needs a partner.
Fisher Lange was a hotshot chef in New York City until the loss of his sister left him numb, grieving, and responsible for his teenage niece Indy. When Fisher loses his Michelin star along with his love of cooking, his boss sends him and Indy to Spunes on a much-needed summer sabbatical to consult on a restaurant opening. But when clashes with the townspeople threaten his last chance to redeem himself and a kiss with his new neighbour Sage leads to dating rumours, a strategic alliance might just be the best way to turn things around.
A deal is struck. Sage will improve Fisher's image in the eyes of the town and remove the roadblocks he is facing with the restaurant, and Fisher will be Sage's partner for the competition. But as their pact quickly turns into steamy rendezvous, emotional wounds begin to heal, and the pair tries to savour every moment, they start to realize that summer is racing by much faster than they would like . . .
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Rating: 2.75 stars.So ummm… yeah, this one technically was better than the previous disaster, but let’s not get too excited, because “better” does not mean “good.” It was like going from drinking spoiled milk to milk that expired yesterday, still nasty, just slightly less deadly. I enjoyed it a tiny bit, which honestly shocked even me, because lately I’ve turned into the harshest book critic alive after being a five-star girlie for literal decades. And you know what? I GET IT NOW. After reading so many books, the hard truth hit me like a frying pan to the face: not everyone should be a writer, and some people should be legally banned from using the phrase “slow burn.”From now on, I’m only writing fully detailed reviews (plot, characters, writing, tension, the whole buffet) for books I rate three stars and above. Anything below that? They get the a hate rant. They’re lucky to get a sentence honestly, but anyway.── .✦Now let’s talk about this book.It came into my life acting like it was going to save me from a reading slump, the aura was very “don’t worry, babe, I got you.” And to be fair, for a moment? It delivered. I felt a spark. A small, dying, barely-there spark. Then immediately, immediately, it flatlined. No pulse. Gone.Because once again, I felt like I was being forced to watch these characters interact, like I walked into their house uninvited and they just kept talking around me awkwardly. No connection. No buildup. No tension. Just vibes, boring ones.── .✦And then, THEN…The classic tragedy of modern romance: INSTA LUST.For the millionth time. I’m so tired I can’t even be mad anymore; I’m spiritually exhausted. The moment characters start drooling over each other from the first millisecond, all the potential tension packs its bags and leaves the country. Zero suspense. Zero slow burn. Zero payoff. It’s like authors are allergic to letting characters get to know each other.But this book said, “Wait, what if we made it WORSE?”So they gave us insta lust AND fake dating.Why??Why would you combine two tropes that cancel each other out?Fake dating is supposed to build tension.Insta lust bulldozes tension.Together? A literal structural failure. A romance Jenga tower collapsing in 0.4 seconds.Honestly, the only thing, and I mean the only thing, that kept me reading was his chef career. That’s it. That was the whole appeal. I didn’t care about him, her, their chemistry, their trauma, their banter, their relationship, NOTHING. I just wanted to see the man cook. The recipes, the kitchen stress, the “what am I doing with my life” moments were carrying this book on their backs like overworked Olympic athletes.── .✦And I’m sorry but… his name?Fisher.Why in the unholy mother–son dynamic would you name a character Fisher? Who approved that? Was everyone asleep in the meeting? At this rate the next romance hero I pick up is going to be named Bread or Spatula and honestly? I wouldn’t even be surprised. I’d just sigh and keep reading.Final verdict:Read this only if you’re desperate to complete your reading goal. Like if you’re five books behind and it’s December 31st at 11:47 PM, then maybe. Otherwise? Save yourself. Save your brain cells. I already sacrificed mine so you don’t have to.>>> ──────── .✦₊ ⊹