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A swoony, big-hearted queer romance about a jaded twenty-three-year-old who falls for a beautiful girl stuck out of time on the Q train. Warm, funny, found-family magic with a clever time-slip hook and a whole lot of heart.
The Review
Some romances are content to deliver the kiss; this one wants to give you a whole life, and it nearly does. August is twenty-three, broke, and constitutionally allergic to hope when she moves to New York and lands in a gloriously chaotic apartment full of misfits. Then she meets Jane on the subway, leather jacket and easy smile, and falls hard, only to slowly realize that Jane is not just mysterious but literally displaced in time, stranded on the Q train since the 1970s. It is a ridiculous premise rendered with total conviction, and McQuiston makes you believe every minute of it.
What makes the book sing is that the romance is only half of what it is doing. The other half is a celebration of chosen family, of the particular magic of being broke and young in a city with people who would walk through fire for you. August's roommates, her drag-performing neighbor, the regulars at the all-night diner where she waits tables, are drawn with so much affection that the apartment starts to feel like somewhere you have lived. The found-family warmth is the emotional engine, and it gives the central love story real stakes, because saving Jane becomes a project the whole household takes on together.
McQuiston writes queer joy without flinching toward tragedy, and that is a deliberate and welcome choice. Jane's seventies backstory weaves in real queer history, the bars and the activism and the losses, but the book's posture is celebratory rather than mournful. The romance itself is genuinely steamy and genuinely tender, two things that are harder to combine than they look, and the slow reveal of Jane's past gives the swooning a satisfying mystery-box structure to hang on.
It is not flawless. The time-travel mechanics get gloriously convoluted in the back half, and a reader who needs their speculative logic airtight may find the climax asks for a generous suspension of disbelief. The book is also unabashedly sentimental, leaning into its feelings with both hands, so if you prefer your romance cool and restrained, this one runs warm and loud. But those are features as much as bugs for the audience it is written for.
Read it when you want to feel good without feeling pandered to, when you want a romance that takes its lovers and its city seriously. It is funny, sexy, hopeful, and surprisingly moving, the kind of book you finish wanting to text everyone you love. McQuiston has a real gift for making happiness feel earned, and this is that gift in full bloom. There is craft underneath the charm, and the book keeps surprising you with how thoughtfully it has built its joy. For all its sweetness it never feels weightless, and the happy ending lands precisely because you have watched everyone fight so hard to reach it.
Reviewed by Avery
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