May 2026
Bookshops, Subgenres and publishing
May is my birthday month (yes, I am a birthday month person). It may come as no surprise to discover that I love books. And that love extends to bookshops! So I decided to celebrate by visiting some beautiful bookstores here in Connecticut. I’m so excited to share with you the wonderful jewels I found here in my beautiful state.
Montgomery and Taggert
Chester CT
This is a quaint romance-focused bookshop straight out of Stars Hollow. [Bonus points: they have a Stars Hollow corner in the shop.] Loved this bookshop! How can I not love a place with not one but TWO cutouts of Hudson Williams and Conner Storrie? And the book selection was top tier. They have sections dedicated to Historical Romance with the heavy hitter authors, think Julia Quinn, Beverly Jenkins, Courtney Milan, etc. Along with contemporary authors Lindz McLeod, Alexandra Vasti, and Adrianna Herra. They also have robust Romantasy sections, including Fourth Wing, Ice Planet Barbarians, and everything in between. The contemporary section was also well stocked; the entire back room was dedicated to contemporary romance. You can also get lots of bookish accessories here, like notebooks, pens, stickers, etc.
Enchanted Violet
Southington CT
This book shop is dedicated to carrying LGBTQ books. So you get plenty of representation alongside the romance of your choice here. There is a very robust Yuri/Yaoi/Dan Mei manga section. Since the bookshop’s focus is queer representation, it carries multiple genres beyond romance, such as horror, mystery, YA, and children’s books. They also have a cool light setup for when they host Sensory Hours. And another top-tier sticker selection. Along with really cool jewelry and scents.
Blush Book Lounge
Shelton CT
This is an adorable romance-themed bookstore with a great selection of books. The shop is broken up into 3 themed rooms: Western, Contemporary, and Romantasy/Sci-Fi. Each room is fully dedicated to books on the subject. They also host events in their space several times a month. I decided to do something different and bought a few blind dates with a book here. I’m quite excited to get through them.
Tell me about your favorite independent bookshop in the comments, and let’s show them some love!
I was ten when Disney’s Hercules sent me spiraling into a mythology obsession. (I have been hyperfixating/gaining special interests since I was young. Heated Rivalry is just the latest in a long line.) I watched the VHS enough times to wear it out. I wanted to learn more about the gods and goddesses I was introduced to. So I did what any nerdy kid does: went to the library and checked out every book on Greek mythology I could find. Color me surprised when the stories I read were nothing like the light and fun Disney movies. But I was still intrigued by what I found. It’s here that I first discover the tale of Persephone.
As I’ve grown older, the story has stuck with me because I didn’t have the language for it then, but the original myths aren’t told from Persephone’s perspective. This thought gnawed at me until I couldn’t contain it anymore. And Below the Garden was born.
I have been editing this story for the past year, since I first wrote it back in July 2025. I am both excited and anxious about sharing this story with you on June 9th, 2026. Below is a snippet of Below the Garden. (Also shout to my fellow writers, the file name I used for this version is Final V2 - Use This 😂)
The soil kept calling to Kore. The longing was familiar to her now, but she ignored the ground whispering against her feet. She sat cross-legged in the grass of the meadow, her chiton pooled around her knees, one hand trailing through a patch of crocuses she’d coaxed up an hour ago. Pollen dusted her forearms, golden against umber skin already streaked with soil. The delicate purple and yellow heads bobbed, releasing their perfume. She inhaled. Held it. Waiting for that rush of kinship with growing things, the tender ache of the world waking up. She’d heard Demeter talk about it her whole life. But the crocuses smelled like crocuses and nothing more.
The sun pressed against Kore’s skin as Kalligeneia laughed along with Hercyna, the sound bright as it floated in the wind. She focused on the crocuses again, but the soil persisted, low and certain. Finally relenting to the siren call, she placed her palm deep into the earth. Kore’s awareness sank past the flowers, past the topsoil, down into the tangle of fungal threads stitching through the dark. Mycorrhizal networks, pale and branching, swapped phosphorus for sugar. Microbes dismantled last autumn’s leaves into soft black loam six inches below her knee. Her eyes closed, comforted by all the life she found. Here is where she found the ancient power her mother often spoke of. If she were being honest, Kore knew this was not what her mother hoped she would find in the meadow outside Pylos. As she pulled her hands back, she ached as she lost connection to the world below. Automatically, Kore smiled. She knew the nymphs were watching. The pressure to radiate joy as the goddess of spring gripped her lungs like a fist.
“Kore, do you think the irises should go nearer to the road?” Hercyna crouched a few yards away, tucking a vine back behind her ear where it had slipped loose. The leaves woven through her golden hair were starting to wilt in the heat, though she didn’t seem to notice.
“Mm. Yes. The road would be lovely.” Kore heard her own voice as if from a great distance. Every iris bulb they created today would die by winter. They needed well-drained soil, and the ground along the road was dense clay that held water until it stagnated. But her mother wanted irises, along the road where the villagers would see them, and so irises it would be.
Mother, shouldn’t we plant crops here? Native grasses? Or feverfew, along the road, so villagers could pick it easily when their children were sick? The memory surfaced unbidden. Demeter’s villa, three days ago, morning light pouring through the open colonnade while her mother arranged peony blossoms in a kylix. Kore stood in the doorway with her hands clasped.
Darling, nobody wants to walk past a road full of weeds. Pylos needs beauty, not your dreary practicality. These flowers will show them the goddess’s favor. Her mother hadn’t even paused or looked up as she dismissed Kore.
Kore’s fists tightened around the grass. Acid crawled up her sternum before she could swallow it back down, hot and useless. She glanced at her hands; the grass in her fist was crushed, leaking green against her palm. As she placed her hands in the soil, it already reached toward the dying plant with eagerness. Dying things still had so much life to give.
“Oh, Kore, have you heard?” Minthe appeared at her side, dropping to the grass in a flurry of lavender hair and breathless energy. Minthe’s pale skin was flushed pink across the nose from the sun.
“Your mother is apparently considering marriage proposals for you.”
Kore caught fragments over the past few months, half-heard conversations that quieted when she entered a room. Minthe, who collected gossip the way other nymphs collected wildflowers, would never have uttered a word unless she considered it common knowledge. Which meant everyone knew. The attendants, the nymphs, and probably half of Olympus. Everyone except the woman being bartered. Heat rushed to Kore’s face.
“Is she?”
“Kalligeneia heard it from one of Demeter’s attendants. Multiple gods are lining up.”
Kalligeneia drifted over, the small white flowers in her dark hair catching the light as she settled onto the grass. Sweat glistened on her ebony skin.
“The perfect spring bride. You’re the embodiment of it, you know. The suitors won’t know what to do with themselves.”
Kore held her smile. If it slipped, and a hint of her displeasure got back to Demeter, there would be consequences. Better to scream in private than face one of her mother’s punishments.
“Kore?” Kalligeneia’s voice broke through. “You look tired. Should we leave? Would you like that?”
As if Kore had ever had a say in when they arrived or departed. Kore didn’t doubt Kalligenia’s kindness, but the offer rang hollow.
“Yes,” Kore said. “You go.”
Three lovely faces turned toward her at once, puzzled, and the old familiar work of assembling herself began. Shoulders back, chin up, and that little smile with her teeth tucked away. Her mother called it her bright face and had often praised her for it. Every so often, Kore wondered how her mother would react if she discovered she named a mask.
“Go ahead, tell Mother that I want to look at our work over the meadow. You know it must be perfect. I’ll be home before the second hour.”
Kalligeneia hesitated, and Hercyna opened her mouth.
“Go, I’m not a child. I can walk across a meadow by myself.” Kore laughed. Using the right sing-song lilt she had practiced. After some additional assurances that Kore would be fine and on her way soon, they relented. She watched them cross the field in a little chattering cluster, Kalligeneia’s hair catching the sun, Hercyna turning once to wave, Minthe already describing something with her hands. Kore raised her own hand in answer and held the smile until they crested the low rise and disappeared.
Then she let it drop. Her jaw ached along with the small muscles around her eyes. She put her hand on her cheek to stave off the tears that threatened to fall. She turned east, toward the tangled edge of the meadow, toward the wild wood she had been watching out of the corner of her eye.
At the tree line, she paused. She could still turn around, run after the nymphs, catch them at the lower field, and say, I changed my mind, wait for me. The afternoon would still unfold along its pretty, predictable course, and she would go to bed tonight in her clean room in the villa, and she would be, by every visible measure, the most fortunate young goddess.
Her sandals sank into the leaf litter of the wood, the soft, layered mulch of seasons’ worth of fallen things breaking down into soil. Kore walked without any real destination, letting the woods decide her path, which was, in itself, a novelty. Her days were so carefully cultivated, shepherded from task to task. Whenever an opportunity to be alone presented itself. She would claw at it with both hands. She knew a good daughter or friend would not desire to be away from those who loved her. But today her desperation burned stronger than her shame.
The wild woods welcomed her, no manicured gardens or carefully tended groves like at her mother’s villa, just raw nature following its own chaotic rules. Ancient trees stretched overhead, their canopy so thick it filtered the sunlight into green twilight. As Kore passed a tree, she ran her fingers along the rough bark.
Hello.
It hummed against her palm. Beneath her feet, the taproots were pulling water up from a spring far below the surface. In the loam, a field mouse began its transition into sustenance that would feed the new grass by the next new moon. None of the nymphs could feel any of this. She was certain of that. As a child, Kore had asked Kalligeneia whether she had ever heard the dead things in the soil singing, and Kalligeneia had gone pale and made a sign against ill luck and kissed Kore’s forehead. She had not asked the question since.
As she leaned against the tree, the forest quieted around her. The hair lifted on the back of her neck. She was being watched. She scanned the tree line, the dense tangle of scrub oak and wild laurel, the shadows pooling between the trunks where the canopy blocked the last of the afternoon light. Movement flickered at the edge of her vision. Kore turned just as a massive shape crashed through a stand of young trees, snapping saplings like winter kindling. Bull-shouldered, a head taller than any mortal, shaggy with a coarse black pelt, and horns the length of her forearm curving up from a heavy skull. Its eyes, a yolk yellow and fixed on hers with a predatory hunger.
Besotted Books
As a lover and writer of historical romance, I find it saddening to see the unfortunate trend of publishers moving away from the genre. Indie author Andie James also sees this pattern. But rather than talk about the problem, she wants to try and solve it, with the creation of Besotted Books. Bestowed Books plans to publish 12 historical romances a year for 3 years. If you know anything about book publishing, it’s expensive and filled with risks. Andie will launch a Kickstarter campaign on June 9th to raise $450,000 to support Besotted Books. Andie is being transparent about the use of funds and logic for the funding. She also has several other posts discussing the donation levels and their associated perks. I personally plan to support at the Duchess tier.
This project is a labor of love, and if you, like me, believe that romance of all kinds deserves some time in the sun, please help support her Kickstarter and follow her and Besotted Books on Instagram to find out more.
Sentient Object Romance
Have you or someone you know fallen down the new romance rabbit hole of Sentient Object Romance? In my writing group (shoutout Queens!), my friend Christy introduced us to the topic of sentient romance. And I have to say, my flabbers are gasted. I have only read one so far, but I am intrigued. Cause the promise of sentient romance is still the same as any romance novel. The two protagonists end up together. So how do you 1) make a human fall in love with an object and 2) have them end up in a happily ever after? The first isn’t so hard; humans have been falling in love with objects for a very long time. But I know if monster romance can have Our Dear Couple (™) end up together, why can’t the protagonist and their stand mixer find lasting love?
But all jokes aside, like any other form of romance, Sentient object romance interrogates what it means to be known as you fully are and still deserving of love. The objects aren’t inanimate and non-consenting; through magic, fate, or some other means, they gain consciousness and a sense of self. And in being in the world, fall in love with another being. And in like many a romance before it, there are obstacles to overcome on the path to love.
Unhinged by Vera Valentine
Speaking of Sentient object romance. Y’all, I need to talk about Unhinged, a contemporary sentient object romance where a woman falls in love with her door. Yes, you read that correctly, a door. It’s a bewitched door, but a door that she doesn’t pay attention to. But the door is certainly paying attention to her. I wasn’t sure what to expect going in, but it’s certainly a wild ride in the 67 pages of this novella. I don’t want to give anything away, but if you find yourself interested in sentient-object romance. This is a great entry point.
Destiny’s Embrace by Beverly Jenkins
What a fun adventure from Philadelphia to Destiny Ranch, California. This is the first in the Destiny series, where we meet the Yates brothers. Logan Yates and Mariah Cooper are the main characters in this novel, and they are a fiery pair. If you’re familiar with the work of Beverly Jenkins, she’s a master of two strong-willed people getting under each other’s skin. That is shown time and again, but my favorite confrontation is when Mariah is learning how to drive a horse and wagon. And she lets Logan have it literally with some well-placed rocks. And Maria and Logan are no different. But I love how Mariah holds her ground with Logan. Logan has to stop and re-evaluate what he wants in life to be with Mariah. I also love the whole Yates family embracing Mariah and becoming her found family. Definitely kick up your feet, sit back, and enjoy this one.
What can I say about Infinity Song? They are a band that I am obsessed with. As a millennial lover of all things alternative, discovering a black Yaht Rock/alternative band healed my alt teenage self. Listen to the Boyd siblings’ Tiny Desk concert, then go stream their new self-titled album.
A show that is close to my heart and the hearts of many others. So happy Ted Lasso is coming back for another season. The first two seasons of this show are a jewel. From the positive representation of masculinity, male relationships, and therapy. I am beyond excited for Season 4 and can’t wait to cheer on the AFC Richmond women!
Alright, my dearest readers, that’s a wrap on another month of us doing what we do best: taking all things romance books, media, and business. #NoRegrets.
Before you go, I need one thing from you, and I’m not above begging.
As I’ve stated, Beyond the Garden drops June 9th. If this opening has you even a little curious about where she’s headed, please share this newsletter. Send it to your book club, your group chat, your coworker who pretends they don’t read romance but absolutely does. Every new reader who shows up for Kore’s story means the world to me, and also means she gets to stop haunting my dreams quite so aggressively.
Until next time, with love and an unreasonable amount of feelings,
Jacque
Hooray for the first installment of Below the Garden!
Happy belated birthday , beautiful . And many more to come 💐💐