Andie

📖 books, emotions & captions written at 2am ✨

[andiebooks21]

Nightshade was one of those books where I genuinely didn't know what I was getting myself into, and somehow ended up completely invested in the chaos.

Ophelia Winters arrives at Sorrowsong University with one thing on her mind: finding out what really happened to her parents.

She isn't there because she belongs among the rich and powerful students of the university. She's there because she has a scholarship, a mystery to solve and way too many questions that nobody seems willing to answer.

And then there's Alex Corbeau-Green.

The last person Ophelia should trust.

He's the son of the man she suspects might have something to do with her parents' deaths, so obviously the two of them getting along would be far too easy. Instead, they spend most of the book trying to figure out whether they should hate each other, trust each other, or maybe both. 🥲

What I really liked about Ophelia is that she isn't just there to fall in love.

She's angry.

She's suspicious.

She's determined to find answers even when digging deeper starts putting her in actual danger.

And the mystery surrounding her parents gives the whole story this darker feeling underneath all the university drama and romance. The more she discovers, the harder it becomes to tell who she can actually trust.

Then Alex slowly becomes this unexpected person in her corner.

And I LOVED the enemies-to-lovers tension between them.

Because he doesn't suddenly become this perfect, sweet guy the moment he starts liking her. He's still complicated, still sarcastic, still carrying his own problems. But the more he gets to know Ophelia, the more obvious it becomes that he would rather stand beside her than let her face everything alone.

There are so many little moments between them where the tension is just there.

The arguing.

The banter.

The pretending they don't care.

The whole “I absolutely should not be falling for you” energy. 😭

And then you have the mystery, the stalking, the murder investigation, the secrets surrounding Sorrowsong and all these incredibly wealthy families who seem to have something to hide.

I also have to mention the side characters because they brought so much personality to the story. Belladonna especially became one of those characters I immediately wanted more of.

And the book somehow manages to balance the darker parts with moments that are genuinely funny, which I wasn't expecting at all.

There are also some lines that perfectly capture the whole vibe:

“I've built my walls too high.”

“They're worth the climb.”

And honestly, that feels very Nightshade to me.

Two people who have every reason to keep their walls up, slowly realizing that maybe there is someone worth letting through.

It's mysterious, messy, romantic and a little unhinged in the best way.

Basically: murder mystery + dark academia + enemies to lovers + rich people with too many secrets + a romance I absolutely did not need to get this attached to. 🥲

And yes, I would absolutely go back to Sorrowsong University again. ✨

[andiebooks21]

I think Every Summer After is one of those books that makes you miss a summer you never actually lived.

There’s something about Barry’s Bay that feels almost unreal — the lake, the long afternoons, swimming until it gets dark, working at the family restaurant, sitting around with nowhere to be and all the time in the world.

And at the center of it are Percy and Sam.

They meet as teenagers and, summer after summer, become best friends before slowly becoming something more. Their relationship grows in all those small, ordinary moments that somehow end up meaning everything when you look back at them years later.

But the story begins after all of that has already been lost.

Percy hasn't been back to Barry's Bay in years. She's built a completely different life for herself and has spent a decade keeping people at a safe distance, carrying the weight of the biggest mistake of her life with her.

Then she gets the call that brings her back.

Back to the lake.

Back to the family she once knew.

And back to Sam.

And I loved the way the book moves between the past and the present because you're not simply watching two people fall in love. You're watching them fall in love knowing that something will eventually go wrong.

Every summer gives you another piece of Percy and Sam.

Thirteen-year-old Percy.

The awkward teenage years.

The friendship becoming something neither of them really knows how to handle.

The first love.

And then the moment everything falls apart.

While in the present, they're adults who have spent years trying to live with what happened.

That's what made the romance feel so bittersweet to me.

Because sometimes the person you love isn't necessarily the person you get to keep.

And sometimes growing up means realizing that the choices you make when you're young can follow you for much longer than you ever expected.

I also really loved how much of their relationship is built around friendship. Before they're anything else, Percy and Sam genuinely like each other. They have their own little rituals, their books, their jokes, their summers. You get to see why losing each other hurt so much in the first place.

It's not just we were in love once.

It's you were my person before I even understood what that meant.

And that made the second-chance aspect hit so much harder for me.

At the same time, I can't pretend everything Percy does is easy to forgive. She's messy. Sam is messy. They make choices that hurt other people, and the book doesn't really work if you're looking for characters who always make the right decision.

But I think that's part of what makes the story feel so emotional.

They're not trying to rewrite the past.

They're trying to figure out whether what they had was strong enough to survive it.

And honestly, the whole book feels like nostalgia mixed with regret.

Like opening an old box of photographs and remembering exactly who you were when you took each one.

Six summers to fall in love.

One moment to fall apart.

And one weekend to find out if some things really can find their way back to you. ✨

[andiebooks21]

I think every Liz Tomforde book leaves me with a different feeling.

In Her Own League left me thinking about how exhausting it must be to constantly feel like you have to earn a place that was never freely given to you.

Reese has spent her entire life preparing for the career she always wanted, yet the moment she finally gets it, people are already waiting for her to fail.

Not because she isn't capable.

But because she's the first. The first woman to own a Major League Baseball team.

And there was something so heartbreaking about that.

You can feel how carefully she chooses every word, every decision, every reaction because she knows she won't be given the same grace as everyone else. She can't afford mistakes. She can't afford vulnerability. She can't even afford to simply have a bad day without someone questioning whether she deserved her position in the first place.

That's what stayed with me long after I finished the book.

Not the romance.

But the loneliness that comes with constantly having to prove yourself.

And then there's Emmett.

What I loved most about him wasn't that he protected Reese.

It was that he never saw her ambition as something that needed to be softened. He admired it. He respected it. He stood beside her instead of in front of her.

Their relationship never felt like one person saving the other.

It felt like two people slowly becoming a place where the other could finally breathe.

I also loved returning to the Windy City universe and seeing familiar faces again. It reminded me why these books have become such comfort reads for me. Every character feels like they're growing, even after their own story is over, and somehow it always feels like coming home.

I think that's what Liz Tomforde does best.

She writes romances that aren't just about falling in love.

She writes about being seen.

About finding someone who never asks you to become less ambitious, less emotional or less yourself just to make the relationship work.

And honestly...

That kind of love will always be my favorite to read about ✨

[andiebooks21]

Percy Jackson & the Olympians by Rick Riordan will always be more than just a childhood favourite to me.

It's the series that made me fall in love with mythology, with adventure and with stories where ordinary kids discover they're capable of extraordinary things.

Following Percy as he goes from a boy who never quite feels like he belongs to someone willing to risk everything for the people he loves is still one of my favourite character journeys.

But what makes this series so special isn't just the quests or the monsters.

It's friendship. Loyalty. Family - the one you're born into and the one you choose.

Rick Riordan somehow managed to take Greek mythology and make it feel alive, funny and accessible, while never losing the weight of the original myths. Every god, every monster and every prophecy made me want to learn more, and before I knew it, mythology had become one of my favourite things to study.

In fact, this series ended up meaning so much to me that I based my bachelor's thesis on it.

I don't think younger me, reading The Lightning Thief for the first time, could have imagined that one day I'd be writing an entire dissertation inspired by Percy's world. And yet, somehow, it feels like the most fitting full-circle moment.

Looking back now, I think that's what I love most about these books.

They remind you that courage isn't about never being afraid.

It's about choosing to keep going anyway.

And no matter how many fantasy books I read, Camp Half-Blood will always feel a little like coming home ✨

[andiebooks21]

Shield of Sparrows by Devney Perry completely surprised me.

I went into it expecting another romantasy with an arranged marriage, enemies to lovers and monsters.

What I found instead was a story about a girl who has spent her entire life believing she exists only for other people's decisions.

Odessa has never been the princess anyone wanted.

Overshadowed by her sister, ignored by her father and treated like a bargaining chip, she's sent across kingdoms to marry a man she's never met in order to secure a political alliance. From the very first pages, you can feel how little control she's ever had over her own life.

And I think that's what I loved most about this book.

It's not just about monsters or magic. It's about reclaiming yourself after a lifetime of being told who you're supposed to be.

Watching Odessa slowly stop apologizing for existing and start making choices for herself was honestly my favorite part of the story.

"The only person who was always going to fight for me was me."

Then there's the Guardian.

Quiet. Deadly. Impossible to read.

The relationship between them isn't built on instant attraction but on trust earned one small moment at a time. Every conversation feels like another brick laid between two people who have every reason not to trust anyone.

The slow burn was exactly the kind I love—the kind where the tension is in every glance, every silence and every reluctant act of protection.

And the world itself feels dangerous from beginning to end. Monsters aren't just something lurking in the background; they're a constant reminder that survival isn't guaranteed for anyone.

But underneath all the action, what stayed with me was Odessa's journey.

She begins the story convinced she's powerless because that's what everyone around her has always wanted her to believe.

Little by little, she realizes that being underestimated can become its own kind of strength.

"Who would I become if I wasn’t at the mercy of men?"

Devney Perry also has this surprisingly emotional writing style. Even in the quieter scenes, there's this feeling that every character is carrying something they haven't said out loud yet.

By the end, this didn't feel like a story about finding a prince.

It felt like a story about finding your own voice before letting someone else love you.

And honestly... I already know this is going to be one of those series I'm going to be thinking about for a very long time ✨

[andiebooks21]

I think I am made of delicate things.

Of books opened far too late at night, of coffee left forgotten to grow cold beside me, and of pages filled with thoughts I have never said out loud.

I am the kind of person who feels deeply. Perhaps sometimes too deeply. I become attached to stories, to people, to the versions of the future I imagine for myself. I carry fictional worlds with me long after I have left them behind, and I often find comfort in places that exist only between the pages of a book.

I romanticize life. Rainy evenings, quiet moments, music playing softly in the background, conversations that linger in my mind for days. I believe there is beauty in the little things, and I am always searching for it.

I am also someone who worries a lot. I overthink, I doubt myself, and sometimes I am so afraid of failure that I become completely stuck. There are moments when I feel behind, as if everyone else has already figured out what they want from life while I am still trying to understand who I am becoming.

But even then, I keep moving forward.

Because beyond all the uncertainty, there is still hope. There is still the part of me that wants to teach, to write, to create, to make people feel understood, and to leave the world a little gentler than I found it.

Maybe I am still becoming. Maybe I will keep becoming for a long time.

But if there is one thing I know for certain about myself, it is this: I care deeply. About stories, about people, about words, about meaning.

And perhaps that is not such a bad way to be ✨.

[andiebooks21]

I think I picked the perfect time to finally talk about this series, considering season 2 of the adaptation just came out and reminded me why I became so obsessed with these books in the first place. Season 2 adapts Good Girl, Bad Blood, bringing back Pip and Ravi for another investigation, this time dealing with the disappearance of Jamie Reynolds and the fallout from everything that happened in book one.

What started as a school project about a closed murder case somehow turned into one of the most addictive mystery series I've ever read.

A Good Girl's Guide to Murder, Good Girl, Bad Blood and As Good As Dead follow Pip Fitz-Amobi as she investigates crimes everyone else believes are already solved. And with every book, the stakes get higher, darker and much more personal.

What I loved most is that Pip never really feels like the typical YA heroine.

She's smart and determined, but she's also stubborn, obsessive and sometimes so desperate for answers that she forgets how much investigating is changing her.

In the first book, she's trying to uncover the truth.

In the second, she's trying to stop herself from becoming involved again.

And by the third, she's forced to face what happens when you're no longer investigating danger — you're living inside it.

That's probably why As Good As Dead hit me the hardest.

Watching Pip slowly lose pieces of herself while still refusing to look away from the truth was honestly heartbreaking.

And through all of it, Ravi remains one of my favourite love interests ever.

Not because he's perfect.

But because he understands Pip better than almost anyone else.

The mystery is obviously amazing, but what stayed with me was the way Holly Jackson explores guilt, obsession and the cost of always needing answers.

Every book feels darker than the one before.

Every answer creates new questions.

And every time Pip thinks she's finished investigating, another mystery finds her anyway.

By the end, this series feels like so much more than a murder mystery.

It's about truth. Justice. And what happens when chasing both starts to consume you.

And honestly, now that season 2 is finally here, I kind of want to experience this entire story for the first time all over again ✨

[andiebooks21]

Rewind It Back by Liz Tomforde honestly felt like a story about timing more than anything else.

About two people loving each other deeply, losing each other anyway, and then having to face all the versions of themselves they became after.

The whole book carries this quiet feeling of nostalgia and regret — like revisiting memories you’re not sure still belong to you anymore.

What I loved most is that the romance doesn’t feel rushed or idealized. It feels messy in a very human way. Both characters are carrying hurt, pride and all the things they never said when it mattered most.

And Liz Tomforde writes that emotional tension so well. Not just longing for a person, but longing for a version of your life that no longer exists.

“Some people leave fingerprints on your soul.”

There’s also something really emotional about the idea of trying again with someone who already knows the worst parts of you. The history between them is constantly present in every conversation, every memory, every almost-confession.

“I think loving you was always inevitable.”

And underneath the romance, the book feels very much about growing up too. About realizing love alone doesn’t always fix things. About becoming someone capable of loving better the second time around.

A lot of the story feels soft and comforting, but there’s still this ache running through it the entire time — the fear that maybe some people only exist in your past.

“Maybe some stories don’t end. Maybe they just pause for a while.”

And honestly, that’s exactly what this book felt like to me.

Like reopening an old wound carefully enough that it finally gets the chance to heal ✨

[andiebooks21]

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare never felt to me like a story about Shadowhunters or demons first.

It always felt like a story about loneliness.

About three people trying to survive the kind of pain that changes who you are forever.

Tessa entering London after her aunt’s death, believing she still understands the world, only to discover she’s suddenly completely alone. Forced into a life she never chose, treated like something dangerous because of powers she doesn’t even understand herself.

Will spending years convincing everyone around him that he is cruel, careless and impossible to love because he genuinely believes loving him means destroying people.

And Jem living every single day knowing his life is slowly slipping away from him, yet still choosing kindness over bitterness every single time.

That’s what makes this trilogy hurt so much. Every character is carrying grief long before they even realize it.

“You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is all.”

What stayed with me most is how deeply the story understands love as something painful and transformative at the same time.

Not just romantic love. But friendship. Loyalty. The quiet devastation of caring about someone so much that their suffering becomes yours too.

The relationship between Will and Jem honestly feels like the emotional heart of the trilogy. They love each other with this terrifying level of devotion where every sacrifice becomes unbearable because neither of them knows how to choose themselves over the other.

And Tessa slowly becomes the place where both of them feel understood.

Not fixed. Not saved. Just understood.

“There is no pretending. I love you, and I will love you until I die…”

I think what makes the story feel so haunting is that everyone is constantly running out of time.

Jem’s illness. Will’s fear. Tessa watching people she loves suffer while knowing she cannot stop it.

Even the atmosphere of Victorian London feels heavy with it — clocks ticking, machines breaking apart, people trying desperately to hold onto each other before everything changes again.

And underneath all the fantasy and danger, the trilogy keeps asking the same question over and over: how do you continue loving people when loss is inevitable?

“Life is a book and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read.”

The ending of Clockwork Princess honestly shattered me because it understands something very human: that love does not end simply because time passes.

People leave. Lives change. Years disappear. And somehow love still remains in different forms.

That’s why The Infernal Devices never really feels like a fantasy trilogy to me.

It feels like a story about grief and devotion disguised as one ✨

[andiebooks21]

Six of Crows & Crooked Kingdom honestly feel like the definition of getting emotionally attached to fictional characters against your own will.

A criminal prodigy with too many secrets. A crew of broken teenagers trying to survive a city that’s already decided what they’re worth. One impossible heist that slowly turns into something much bigger than money.

But what makes these books unforgettable isn’t really the plot twists or the worldbuilding — even though both are incredible.

It’s the characters.

Kaz Brekker carrying grief like armour. Inej dreaming about freedom while believing she has to earn it first. Jesper hiding fear behind humour. Nina and Matthias trying to love each other despite everything the world taught them to hate.

Every single character feels wounded in such a deeply human way.

“The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true.”

What I love most about this duology is that nobody gets softened into a perfect hero. They stay messy. Angry. Traumatised. Sometimes selfish. But they still keep choosing each other anyway.

And somehow that found family dynamic hurts more than the actual dangerous missions.

“No mourners. No funerals.”

The relationships in these books also feel so carefully written. Not rushed. Not overly dramatic. Just quiet moments of trust between people who were never taught how to be loved gently.

“I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you…”

And then Crooked Kingdom somehow makes everything even more painful because by then you know these characters too well. Their fears. Their grief. The tiny moments where they let themselves hope for something better.

“Fear is a phoenix. You can watch it burn a thousand times and still it will return.”

There’s something about this duology that feels impossible to move on from once you finish it. The atmosphere of Ketterdam. The loyalty between the crows. The feeling that all of them are trying to build a home out of people because the world never gave them one.

And honestly, no fictional crew has ever felt more real to me ✨

[andiebooks21]

This Time It's Real felt like one of those stories that quietly sneaks up on you.

At first it seems light and cute — fake dating, celebrity romance, awkward main character energy and all the soft, funny moments that make contemporary romances so addictive.

But underneath all of that, the story is really about loneliness. About wanting to be known properly by someone. About how terrifying it is to let people see the real version of you.

Eliza Lin accidentally goes viral after writing an essay about a relationship that never actually happened, and suddenly she’s trapped inside this version of herself everyone else seems to love. So when famous actor Caz Song agrees to fake date her, everything starts blurring between performance and reality.

And honestly, I think that’s what Ann Liang writes so beautifully — the fear of being loved only for the version of yourself you created for other people.

“I guess my point is that I do believe in love. Really. I'm just not convinced that kind of love could ever happen to me.”

There’s something about Eliza that felt painfully relatable to me. The awkwardness. The overthinking. The constant feeling that everyone else is easier to love.

“And this, I think, is my ultimate fatal flaw. Missing people who don’t miss me back.”

And then there’s Caz — charming in that effortless way, but also surprisingly gentle. Their relationship never feels overly dramatic. It feels soft. Like two people slowly learning how to trust each other with the parts they usually hide.

Some of the most emotional moments in the book aren’t even romantic. They’re about friendship, vulnerability and the fear of being left behind.

“Romantic breakups are romanticized constantly… but platonic breakups are suffered in secret.”

The whole story feels very human in that quiet, messy way. Not perfect love. Not perfect people. Just two lonely teenagers trying to figure themselves out while pretending they already know who they are.

And honestly, Ann Liang writes tenderness so beautifully.

“Maybe I’ll always be scared… But so many beautiful things lie on the other side of fear.”

This book felt exactly like that to me. Soft, vulnerable and comforting in the gentlest way ✨

[andiebooks21]

why do fictional characters feel more real sometimes?

Maybe fictional characters sometimes feel more real than actual people because we don’t just watch them — we grow alongside them.

We meet them in the quietest moments of our lives.

At 2am when we can’t sleep.

During difficult weeks that feel endless.

In lonely moments we never truly talk about.

In phases of life where we don’t even fully understand ourselves.

And somehow, while the world keeps moving forward, those characters stay with us.

We see their fears, their flaws, their pain, the way they fall apart and still keep going. We hear their thoughts. We discover parts of them that even the people around them don’t completely know. Sometimes we end up understanding a fictional character more deeply than we understand real people, because stories allow us into their souls in a way real life rarely does.

And maybe that’s exactly why they feel so real.

Because they become connected to memories.

To certain songs.

To certain nights.

To versions of ourselves we were when we first found them.

A character can become the memory of a specific chapter in our lives — the lonely version, the scared version, the lost version, the healing version, the hopeful version. They stay beside us through moments nobody else sees, and over time they stop feeling fictional. They become an emotional place we return to without even realizing it.

Sometimes they say the things we never knew how to express.

Sometimes they survive the things we’re trying to survive too.

Sometimes they become comfort in a world that feels too loud.

And when their story ends, or when we lose a character, the pain can feel strangely personal. Not because we forgot they weren’t real, but because the emotions they gave us were.

Stories stop being just stories the moment they become part of you ✨

[andiebooks21]

Powerless genuinely felt like one of those books that takes over your entire personality while you’re reading it.

A kingdom divided between the powerful and the Ordinary. Paedyn Gray surviving by pretending to be something she’s not. Kai Azer trained to hunt people exactly like her.

And somehow, despite everything stacked against them, they keep finding their way back to each other.

What I loved most about this book is how intense everything feels — the trials, the danger, the tension, the constant feeling that one wrong move could destroy everything. But underneath all the action and romantasy elements, the story is really about identity, survival and wanting to belong in a world that already decided your worth before you were even born.

Paedyn spends the entire story hiding pieces of herself just to stay alive, and I think that’s what made her such an interesting main character to me. She’s strong, but never untouchable. Clever, but constantly afraid. Every choice she makes feels desperate in the most human way.

And then there’s Kai.

Loyal to the kingdom. Raised to obey. Supposed to be her enemy from the very beginning.

But the tension between them honestly feels impossible to ignore.

“She is the embodiment of a bad decision. The twin of danger and desire.”

“If I am to be her enemy, I want it to be because she loathes herself for wanting me.”

I think that’s why so many people became obsessed with this book so quickly. The romance feels dangerous the entire time. Not soft or easy — more like constantly standing on the edge of something that could ruin both of them.

A lot of readers compare the atmosphere to because of the trials and the social divide, but Powerless leans much harder into the romance and emotional tension.

And honestly, some scenes felt physically impossible to read normally because the chemistry was THAT intense.

“What you need and what you want are two very different things.”

But underneath all the banter and longing, there’s also something really sad about the story. Both Kai and Paedyn are trapped by roles they never truly chose. One born powerless. One trapped by power.

And both slowly realizing love might cost them everything.

I think that’s what made this book linger in my head after finishing it. Not just the romance or the plot twists.

But the feeling of two people trying to hold onto each other in a world designed to pull them apart ✨

[andiebooks21]

There’s something about reading at night that makes everything feel softer.

Maybe it’s the quiet.

Maybe it’s the dim lights and the feeling that the whole world has finally slowed down for a little while.

Or maybe it’s just easier to disappear into another life when everything around you is silent.

No pressure, no noise, no expectations.

Just a book opened far too late at night, music playing quietly in the background and fictional worlds that somehow feel more comforting than reality sometimes.

I think that’s why some of my favorite memories are simply nights spent reading until 2am, completely attached to characters who don’t even exist.

Getting emotionally invested in stories like they’re real.

Forgetting about everything outside those pages for a few hours.

And honestly, there’s something comforting about knowing that no matter how overwhelming life feels sometimes, there will always be another story waiting for you somewhere ✨

[andiebooks21]

I don’t think Saving 6 and Redeeming 6 are the kind of books you read casually and forget a few days later.

They stay with you.

Joey Lynch is probably one of the most heartbreaking characters I’ve ever read — a boy carrying so much pain, anger and responsibility that you can almost feel his exhaustion through the pages.

And maybe the hardest part is that underneath all the self-destruction, he’s still so young.

Aoife sees that immediately.

She sees the version of Joey hidden underneath all the walls he built just to survive, and she loves him with this quiet, unwavering kind of devotion that honestly hurts to witness sometimes.

But what I loved most about these books is that Chloe Walsh never turns Joey’s suffering into something romantic or beautiful.

Addiction, abuse, trauma, neglect, violence — everything feels painfully real. The story never shies away from how heavy it can become to love someone who’s drowning and still doesn’t know how to save themselves.

“Because when you hurt, I hurt.”

And that’s exactly what Joey and Aoife feel like to me. Two people loving each other so deeply that every wound becomes shared.

There were so many moments in these books that felt devastating not because they were dramatic, but because they felt real. The fear. The helplessness. The way Joey genuinely believes he’s too broken to deserve softness from anyone.

“I’m not afraid of loving a boy… I’m afraid of losing myself in one.”

I think that quote explains their relationship perfectly. Because sometimes love isn’t the hardest part. Sometimes the hardest part is surviving everything that comes with it.

And somehow, even in the middle of all that heaviness, there’s still so much tenderness in their story. Small moments. Quiet care. Two people trying their best to keep each other together even while life keeps pulling them apart.

“You’ve been the best part of my day…”

And honestly, I think that’s what makes these books unforgettable for so many people.

Not just the heartbreak.

But the hope hidden underneath it ✨

[andiebooks21]

why romantasy will always have a part of me?

I think romantasy became one of my favorite genres because no other stories make me feel emotions this intensely.

The tension that builds slowly until it becomes unbearable.

The longing hidden between every conversation and every glance.

The kind of devotion that makes people risk everything for each other.

The feeling that love can still exist even in the middle of chaos, war and impossible choices.

Add magical worlds, complicated characters, found families and emotionally devastating moments and suddenly I’m attached to fictional people like they’re real all over again.

There’s just something about romantasy that feels a little impossible to let go of once it finds you ✨

[andiebooks21]

I thought Play Along was going to be one of those fun romances you fly through in two days and forget a week later.

Instead it became one of those stories that feels warm every time you think about it again.

Starts with chaos — a drunken Vegas marriage, one baseball player hopelessly in love, and one woman trying so hard to keep her life under control.

But somewhere between all the banter and fake marriage moments, it turns into something softer.

A story about being loved consistently. About not having to perform perfection to deserve care. About finding someone who chooses you loudly and gently at the same time.

And Isaiah Rhodes… I genuinely understand the obsession now.

“C’mon wife. Play along.”

What I loved most is that the romance never feels forced or overly dramatic. It feels safe. Quietly devoted. The kind of love that notices every small thing.

“And now look at you two. Accidentally married and purposefully in love.”

Even the emotional moments hit harder than I expected.

“Grief seems like a privilege…”

I think that’s why so many people love Liz Tomforde’s books — they’re not just romances. They’re stories about people finally finding somewhere they can rest a little.

And honestly, Play Along felt exactly like that to me ✨