Tag Archives: demisexual

The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

Standard
The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

Hazelwood, Ali. The Love Hypothesis. Berkley, 2021. 384 pp. ISBN 9780593336823 $16.00

*****

Awkward, sweet, lonely Olive is working towards her Ph.D in biology, and her research focuses on early detection for pancreatic cancer. When her best friend Anh falls for Jeremy, the fellow grad student that Olive has been sort of dating, she’s more than happy to step aside, but Anh won’t believe her until Olive invents a fake relationship. Desperate for proof when she lies about a date, she spontaneously kisses Dr. Adam Carlsen in a hallway. Who kindly kisses her back, says he didn’t have a chance to consent (even though she asked) and teases her with a Title IX threat. It turns out the professor, known for being antagonistic, unapproachable, and maybe even down right mean due to his rigorous approach–has a sense of humor, is passionate, and has an ulterior motive of his own. His research funds are frozen, because he has no roots at Stanford and has been deemed a flight risk; having a local girlfriend might convince his funders he has no plans to bail from CA. The two plot out a series of coffee dates, get to know one another, and inevitably become friends. When Olive gets invited to present on a panel at a conference in Boston and her friends make alternative housing plans under the assumption that she will room with her “boyfriend” — you can guess what happens next.

Science + romance is often a win-win for me–the author perfectly captures the pressure (and broke-ass-ness) of graduate school, and the academia and research details give depth to the story and shouldn’t be lost on anyone who completed their required high school biology lab. This romance also gently pokes fun at itself with a healthy awareness of fake dating and just one bed tropes, Hallmark movies and bad YA novels. The characters are the best of stereotypes: fit, smart and beautiful people, but real; Adam is practically Clark Kent, in a pushing a giant truck out of the way moment. They are also healthily nuanced, with very human flaws, backstories with a dose of trauma, and sometimes unsavory behaviors (lies and deceit!). They are also very funny, and seem to share the same sense of humor (she teases his about his age, he calls her a smart ass). Every word of the book serves to further the plot and build character. The sex is languorous, as in goes on for chapters–vulnerable, detailed and includes check ins and consent, but not condoms. Finally, I think Olive is of a orientation not often represented: she doesn’t feel attraction, and cannot engage in physical intimacy unless she completely trusts her partner and has developed emotional intimacy. And when she is able to be unguarded and honest with Adam, he is gentle, respectful, and responsive to her demisexuality.

Triggers for some may include parental loss, sexual harassment, and misogyny, none of which is far fetched, gratiutous, or rewarded; in fact, a villainous and dastardly colleague, but he gets his comeuppance in very satisfying way.

I received a free advance reader’s copy of #TheLoveHypothesis from #NetGalley last year, devoured it, and forgot to write a review. It was just as excellent on the re-read through Libby.

Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun

Standard
Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun

Cochrun, Alison. Kiss Her Once for Me. 368 pp. Atria Books, 2022. ISBN 978-1982191139 $17.99

*****

I feel the same about LGBTQIA+ romance as I do about science fiction novels: as long as the plot is engaging, the setting is strong, the characters compelling (and their names pronounceable), I’m in, even though I don’t self-identify as a science fiction fanatic or queer. I selected this from NetGalley’s offerings months ago, tugged in by the twisty premise of demisexual girl gets fake engaged for money to her ex’s brother. I felt like I just wasn’t in the mood for a queer romance, or a holiday story, and avoiding cracking open my ARC until there were only about three days left on the ticking clock of the review window. I could not put this one down and finished it just in time.

Told in flashbacks that describe a webcomic series based on a perfect romantic snow day with a mysterious Jack one a year ago, and Ellie’s present day dilemma (should she confess the terms of the engagement to Jack? Disclose to Andrew Jack is the manic pixie dream butch from last Christmas?), the only thing that could make this more perfect is if the described comic sections were actual panels…or if the entire book was a graphic novel, hint, hint, @SimonAndSchuster, get on it already!

Ellie is an empathetic character. An animation school grad who got her dream job and then got let go for not being able to cut it, she landed at a coffee-shop with a terrible boss where Instagramming foam creations on lattes is her artistic outlet. Denied a promotion and facing eviction because her terrible! mother is exhorting her as payback for RAISING her, a wealthy investment banker/hedge fund type overhears her plight, takes her on a date, and suggests they catch two birds with one stone and get engaged to solve her financial troubles and allow him access to his inheritance that will only be unlocked if he marries. Ellie drunkenly agrees, and Andrew whisks her off to spend the holidays at his family’s cabin (read: mansion) to introduce her to his relatives and solidify the relationship. His sister Jacqueline/Jack turns out to be the beautiful butch baker from last year’s Powell’s excursion. In a side plot, her best friend–trans tattooed kindergarten teacher Dylan–was Andrew’s super-sekrit hookup last year when Jack was skipping the family festivities and hooking up with Ellie.

The characters are three-dimensional and pop off the page, and they are also delightfully messy and unexpected. Andrew and Jack’s Korean-Americanism is a subtle undercurrent. The rich widowed grandmothers are best buds with an it’s five o’clock somewhere attitude, and in spite of their imbibing, are more astute than they initially let on. Only Andrew and Jack’s father is stereotypical, with a piece on the side and outdated, unsupportive, critical attitudes. Pop culture is a strong secondary character in the novel, with Alexa playlists popping up to provide the perfect pop music soundtrack. Cochrun pays homage to Taylor Swift, Celine Dion, Fun Home, and While You Were Sleeping. Portland has a life of its, with its lack of snow planning, coffee culture, and queer pride.

It’s difficult not to contrast Kiss Her Once for Me with Not The Plan, which I read in the same week. Both couples have a keyword that means time to tell the truth; “honesty game?” works for Jack and Ellie in a way “blunt, honest?” does not for Isa and Karim. The slow burn and careful respect is hot with Jack and Ellie, and plodding and wooden with Isa and Karim. The detailed sex scenes in Kiss Her Once For Me incorporate sensory detail and delicacy, emotion and acceptance, and make unsexy parts sexy, instead of focusing just on erogenous zones. Bodies in Not The Plan are described in gym-honed terms, firm and perfect, while in Kiss Her Once for Me the imperfections are adualated: stretch marks and soft bellies and hairy legs are celebrated as “so fucking perfect.”

Ironically, what makes Kiss Her Once for Me a 5 star (perfect!) book is how it celebrates messy, looking at failures as falls you can pick yourself back up after. “It’s not a failure to let people see you imperfections, it’s vulnerability,” says the best friend who seems to have her shit together but failed her bar exam. Words to take to heart.

I received a free advance reader’s review copy of #KissHerOnceForMe from #NetGalley