June book review (2/2)
The second part of June's reading review.
June book review 2/2 marks the second half of my review for the month of June as a continuation before my travels. These are the books I read whenever I could get the chance, on flights, in hostels, on trains and at the beach… as you will find common themes of summer and light-hearted reads. Whilst away I compiled my reviews onto my notes page and have finally got back to my laptop to write them all down. Hope you enjoy, I can’t wait to get back into the usual routine of these posts soon.
And if you haven’t been able to keep up to date, June part 1 is linked below x
One Golden Summer by Carley Fortune - 3/5
One Golden Summer was my first introduction to Carley Fortune’s work, and despite it being a sequel of sorts, I found it both enjoyable and pleasantly undemanding. It was the perfect beach read—light, easy to binge, and just the right kind of guilty pleasure to sink into for a couple of days. While it didn’t blow me away, it held enough charm to keep me engaged, especially during the final stretch.
The storyline sits comfortably in the “mid” category—not bad by any means, but not especially groundbreaking either. Much of the plot was eye-rollingly predictable, leaning heavily on familiar tropes. And yet, there I was, staying up late to finish the last 20%, completely hooked on Alice and Charlie’s chemistry. Their connection, while not surprising, was addictive in that soft, nostalgic way that romance novels so often aim for. I particularly appreciated how Fortune personalized the romantic and nostalgic moments through the simple yet powerful use of the word “click”, a subtle nod to Alice’s identity as a photographer. Each time it appeared, it felt like Alice was mentally capturing a fleeting, meaningful moment, framing it in her mind like a snapshot. It was a small narrative choice, but a clever and effective one that added emotional weight to key scenes. More than that, it deepened Alice’s character, making her feel more vividly drawn and emotionally resonant. That recurring “click” didn’t just mark memories, helping shape who she was, and made her experience feel more immersive and personal. Even without having read Every Summer After, I never felt lost. Fortune does an admirable job of crafting a self-contained narrative that still pays homage to the characters’ shared past. The atmosphere of Barry’s Bay—sun-soaked, emotionally charged, and tinged with a warm sense of longing—is vividly captured. You get the sense that the setting is as much a character as the people in it.
Ultimately, this book delivered what I expected: an easy, emotionally satisfying ride that didn’t require too much from me as a reader. It didn’t break new ground, but it didn’t need to. One Golden Summer is a lovely little detour for fans of soft second-chance romances. It may not linger long after you close the final page, but while it lasts, it’s a sweet escape.
Seven days in June by Tia Willliams - 2.5/5
I really wanted to love this one. Seven Days in June had been sitting on my reading list for a while, and picking it up in June (naturally) felt like the perfect timing. Admittedly, I hadn’t revisited the synopsis since first hearing about it, so I went in mostly blind, expecting a romantic, literary fiction novel that captured the hazy, emotional warmth of summer. What I found instead was a story that leaned heavily on overdone and predictable tropes, with scene-setting that lacked depth. It often felt like important context was rushed or overlooked in order to fast-track the romance or, more accurately, the smut. While I appreciate steamy reads, I wanted more balance between emotional development and physical intensity. It isn’t that these characters lacked a connection, far from it, for me it was the imbalance between focal points that took away from the emotional connection.
One of the most frustrating parts of the experience was that I could see what Williams was trying to achieve, there was real ambition but it felt like the novel was trying to do too much at once. The result was a tangle of subplots that, while individually compelling, ended up underdeveloped. The prose, which I had hoped would be rich and absorbing, felt at times like an afterthought. That said, there were moments I genuinely appreciated. Shane was a standout, his self-awareness and emotional growth were refreshing, especially compared to the often one-dimensional portrayals of male romantic leads. I also valued the novel’s willingness to tackle real and important issues: race, gender, disability, single motherhood, trauma, addiction.
“By virtue of being a woman, she’s stronger. Girls are given the weight of the world, but nowhere to put it down.”
These themes are deeply relevant, and I applaud their inclusion. But trying to explore all of them within ~300 pages left many of them feeling surface-level or, at worst, misrepresented. This book needed one of two things: either more space to delve into the weighty topics it introduced, or a tighter focus with fewer sub-narratives competing for attention. Still, I’ll give credit where it’s due, Seven Days in June does deliver on the second-chance romance trope and attempts to weave serious themes into that framework, showing how romance and real life often collide in messy, meaningful ways. It just wasn’t the right fit for me.
Hot Milk by Deborah Levy - 4.75/5
“cortado”[…]”it is the sort of milk that is described as ‘commericially stable’” - pg 32
A uniquely symbollic piece that I instantly felt attached to, Hot Milk is centred around young anthropologist and barista, Sofia Papastergiadis and her move to spanish coastal town in hopes of finding a cure for her mother, Rose’s psychosomatic paralysis. Both her adrift professional status and role as sole caretaker for her mother reflects the stagnantation and unfulfilled potential rooted within Sofia’s identity, igniting themes of self-discovery, purpose, and independence throughout the novel.
As Sofia becomes increasingly aware of the toxic codependency within her and her mother’s relationship, she explores new, refreshing avenues aided by the surrounding, whimsical landscape. Amid the scorching heat, jellyfish stings, and disorienting encounters, Sofia explores her own desires and fractured family history, understanding the importance of her individual identity.
“She is my eyes. I am her legs.” - pg 99
This novel is dreamlike, fragmented and rich in metaphors, using the exhausting heat and jellyfish stings as recurring symbols of greater pain and an awakening of transformations. Deborah Levy crafts a narrative that probes the complexities of the mother-daughter bond, autonomy, and the search for meaning in both illness and healing. A deeply addictive and compelling journey, coming to terms with grieving the living.
“Is it easier to surrender to death than to life?” - pg 218
The more I sit with this fascinating novel, the more I suspect I may have underrated it. Hot Milk has lingered in my mind long after finishing it, its images, its characters, its emotional undercurrents refusing to let go. The coiled complexity of Sofia, wound tight like a jack-in-the-box, makes the ending all the more jarring. Her final choices, and the evolution (or unraveling) of her relationship with her mother, continue to haunt me. Themes of guilt and revenge thread through the narrative in subtle, unsettling ways. At times, I couldn't help but sense a faint echo of Lady Macbeth, particularly in the mirrored imagery of “blood on her hands.” Levy weaves these allusions in so deftly, they almost pass unnoticed yet they pulse beneath the surface, feeding the novel’s psychological tension. With a few more weeks of reflection I will most likely surrender and revise my rating to a full five stars for this brilliant piece of literature.
