Book Reviews

I loved that this book dove right into the romantic plot. Toni Shiloh creates a world so immersive, colorful, and alive that it makes you want to jump on a plane immediately and go there. The culture is rich, the history feels alive, and beyond that, she explores complex ethical issues through her characters with real skill.

The hero was far from perfect in the first book in the series, but as the hero of To Win a Prince, he shows himself to be immeasurably redeemable. What struck me most was that this isn't just a redemption story about one man's private reckoning — it's really about forgiveness and grace, and whether the people he wronged are willing to extend it to him. That's a harder, more honest question than redemption alone, and Shiloh doesn't take the easy way out with it.

Shiloh doesn't shy away from the faith element either. The hero is introduced as a complete non-believer, and his arc lets us watch him contemplate his own unbelief while witnessing what faith has brought to the lives of those around him. We see him longing for that same joy and peace his counterparts carry. Instead of someone simply introducing him to Christ and him acquiescing easily, we get to watch him on a genuine journey of exploration, arriving at his own conclusion that he needs God.

I also loved that the heroine isn't just standing patiently by while he grows. She has her own dreams, her own business she's fighting to build, and her own backbone — she holds him accountable rather than simply waiting to rescue or be rescued. Watching both characters grow individually, not just as a couple, is something a lot of romance novels skip past, and Shiloh gives it real room here.

This is technically a sequel, but it reads perfectly well as a standalone if you haven't read the first book.

I love the way she handles all of it. ✨

Toni Shiloh's In Search of a Prince, is a contemporary Christian romance that explores identity, heritage, and what it means to belong to a place you've never been.

The premise alone is a hook: a young American woman discovers she is the heir to the throne of a small African kingdom she has never set foot in. This is not the usual fairytale. Her protagonist is not a damsel in distress sitting around waiting to be rescued. Instead, she is an educated, strong, capable young woman (our favorite kind of heroine) who fearlessly walks into a world that is not quite sure what to make of her and earns her place.

This is a novel that takes its time, and I mean that as genuine praise. She is not in a hurry to get to the romance, the conflict, or the resolution. Instead, she lets the reader live inside the protagonist's daily reality — her uncertainty, her grief, her slow understanding of a culture and a family that are entirely new to her. If you go in expecting a fast burn, recalibrate your expectations. It is the slowest of slow burns—but the payoff is immersion.

Perhaps the reason for the slow signaling of romance is that the search was never only about romance. It was about tradition. Heritage. Legacy. In discovering her place in all of that, the heroine learned more about herself and her faith than she ever knew.

Shiloh doesn't resolve the problems for her characters in a neat tidy bow by a quick prayer and a Sunday sermon. Her characters live out their faith daily, struggling to make real-world choices that involve the struggle with ethics, morality, and forgiveness. God is not in the background, rather He is the center of the lives of the Christian characters. Her characters rely on God for guidance in a way that is reminiscent of the faith that I know.

Shiloh's skill at worldbuilding is amazing. Ọlọrọ Ilé is a beautiful island that I would love to visit. Her handling of the succession politics, royal protocol, and the cultural weight of an outsider attempting to claim a throne that was never meant for her proves that she clearly did her homework.

If I have one craft observation, it's this: the second half of the novel introduces a thread of suspense and threat that raises the stakes considerably — and does so very well. I found myself wishing that thread had been woven in earlier, present from the beginning rather than arriving later, simply because the narrative drive it creates is so effective once it's there. That's not a flaw in the writing. It's a testament to how well it works that I wanted more of it, sooner.

If you love Christian romance that takes its time, trusts its reader, and rewards patience with real emotional and spiritual payoff — In Search of a Prince belongs on your shelf.

Krasau, Poland. The world is beginning to change — slowly, deliberately, and with devastating results. Jewish families who have lived and worked and loved in this city for generations are being stripped of their humanity one decree at a time. It is gradual. It is calculated. And it is chillingly familiar to anyone paying attention to the world today.

A group of young people has decided they will not go quietly.

For Three Lines by Jeff Lefkowitz is not a story about hiding. It is a story about fighting back — and it is one of the most emotionally immersive novels I have read in a long time.

At the center of this story are two Jewish sisters. Anna, eighteen, is conscientious, responsible, and fully formed in her courage from the very first page. Irina, fourteen, initially reads as wild and unmanageable. And then she proves to be every bit as diligent and brave as her older sister. Together with Mordecai, Reuven, and a network of Jewish resisters aided by sympathetic Christian allies and Polish neighbors who chose the right side of history, these young people push back against a machinery of dehumanization that the world tells us could not be stopped — but that they refused to accept.

This book moved me through a complete emotional arc — compassion, frustration, anger, and finally a sadness that has not fully lifted. I thought I had braced myself for the emotions I knew this story would evoke. I was wrong — in the best possible way.

The romantic subplot — often the first casualty in serious historical fiction — is handled here with genuine care, serving to authenticate the reality of the world they lived in.

The writing is beautiful. The characters are fully developed. The pacing is balanced, and the scenes feel inhabited rather than constructed. This story is immersive in the best possible way — which is precisely why it was so hard to read.

One more thing, if you have the option, get the Audible version. It elevates an already great novel into something extraordinary. I have listened to many excellent books diminished by poor narration. In this case, the narrator, Rikel Hayes, brings every character to life with a distinctive voice and perfect pacing. Her pronunciation of the Polish and Jewish names kept me fully immersed in the story.

For Three Lines. Resistance leader Aharon Liebeskind said these young people were fighting for three lines in history. Jeff Lefkowitz gave them so much more than that. They deserved every word.

Becky Wade has done it again.

Let It Be Me is the second installment in her Misty River Romance series, and if you haven't discovered this world yet, consider this your invitation. At its core, this is a story about two people who have learned to excel in every area of life—except vulnerability.

Sebastian Grant is a pediatric heart surgeon who has built an impressive life from a painful beginning. Leah Montgomery is a math prodigy who set aside her own dreams to raise her younger brother. On paper, they shouldn't work. In Wade's hands, they feel inevitable.

What I appreciate most about Wade's craft is her commitment to three-dimensional characters. Sebastian and Leah are not archetypes—they are fully realized people. Their wounds are specific, their choices remain consistent, and their growth unfolds in ways that feel earned rather than convenient. At no point do they betray themselves simply to move the plot forward, which is one of the clearest markers of strong romantic storytelling.

Wade also takes a familiar trope and breathes fresh life into it. The love triangle dynamic has a long and beloved history in romance, but here she reshapes it in a way that feels genuinely surprising. What makes it work is the integrity of the men involved. Both are honest. Both are honorable. Both are genuinely good. That choice elevates the tension without sacrificing anyone's dignity—and it kept me turning pages long past when I should have put the book down.

Then there is the matter of diversity—and this is where Becky Wade quietly does something extraordinary. Sebastian's world is shaped profoundly by the African American family that raised him during the latter half of his childhood. She never announces it. There are no signposts, no narrative pauses to ensure the reader notices. Instead, she places you inside their worth—their warmth, their culture, their way of loving—and trusts the story to carry it.

As an African American woman and writer, I recognized it immediately. Not because Wade called attention to it, but because she got it right. That is the difference between diversity as decoration and diversity as truth. Wade chooses truth, and that choice resonates.

Finally, Wade engages real-life issues without sanitizing the faith element. Christianity in this novel feels lived-in rather than decorative. It is woven into who these characters are, not applied as a tidy resolution when things become difficult. That kind of integration is what separates Christian fiction that lingers from Christian fiction that merely meets expectations.

If you love contemporary Christian romance that takes its characters seriously, wrestles honestly with faith, and delivers a satisfying love story without shortcuts, Let It Be Me belongs on your nightstand.

Let It Be Me is published by Bethany House and is Book Two in the Misty River Romance series, though it reads beautifully as a standalone.

Final Thought: This is romance that trusts its characters—and, in doing so, earns the reader's trust as well.