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A review by chronicallybookish
Better Hate than Never by Chloe Liese
emotional
funny
lighthearted
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
I genuinely do not have the words to describe how much I adore this book. I think it might be my new favorite Chloe Liese book—a top ten romance read, certainly.
Hate to love, childhood friends(ish), so much history and angst, not to mention the top notch banter. From the first chapter I was so in love with these characters, this story. I’d already grown attached to Christopher and intrigued by Kate in the first installment of this series, so it was easy to fall completely into the story.
Kate is such an engaging, spunky, chaotic narrator. She is absolutely nothing like me, and yet it was so easy to connect with her and get swept up in her story. She has so much depth to her character, so much earnestness. It is impossible not to love her. Christopher’s POV was similarly enjoyable, though I didn’t find him to be quite as developed as Kate. I think she outshines him just a little. However, I still completely adored him and seeing his interactions with Kate from both angles.
The star of the show (or, in this case, book) was, as always, the disability representation. Kate has ADHD and Christopher has chronic migraines. From the start, Kate’s ADHD is addressed and discussed and it seemlessly seeps into every aspect of her character, every interaction that she has, in a way that is so authentic to the experiences of a neurodivergent person in reality.
Christopher’s disability, on the other hand, is mentioned only briefly and in passing in the early chapters of the novel. Just mentions of past, off-page migraines. It’s brief, not delving into any details or discussing any of the realities of life with a sometimes-debilitating disorder. I was honestly confused—it felt like such a shallow portrayal. Especially in comparison to Kate’s ADHD and the quality of disability representation that permeates every book that Liese writes. However , as the novel progresses, it comes up more and more often and is explored with more and more depth. At about the 70% mark, the book is really diving into the realities of what Christopher is going through in a much more real way, with Liese’s trademark care and skill. That’s when I realized that the minimal discussion of his migraines earlier on was intentional. Christopher, in the beginning of the book, is closed off. He fears vulnerability, even within himself. His migraines are not addressed beyond the bare necessities, because he does not discuss them with anyone. He doesn’t even address them himself, within his own internal monologue, because he doesn’t—can’t—think about it. As he grows as a person and a character as the novel progresses, he becomes more comfortable. He is able to open up to not only Kate, but also himself, and therefore his acknowledgments of his own disability increase and go into greater depth.
I started the book confused and a little disappointed in the lackluster representation, but by the end I found those very aspects to add even more resonance to Christopher’s character, and the disability representation as a whole.
Every single aspect of this book was beyond what I hoped. I found it to be more character driven than plot driven, but the plot beats that were there ratcheted up the tension and left me unable to put the book down—I actually stayed up until nearly 1 AM to keep reading because I simply couldn’t stop. And there was no third act breakup! I strongly dislike the third act breakup trope—if your characters break up at the first sight of conflict, I am unconvinced that they will be able to last as a couple once the book is over. Conflict is inevitable, and in a book it is necessary even. So there’s a third act conflict—two of them, actually—but instead of blowing up like they have no emotional regulation skills, Kate and Christopher have an actual, adult conversation! They work things out! They communicate! It was so refreshing to see characters in a healthy, rational relationship. Even without relying on the overused third act breakup trope, the pacing and tension didn’t die out. I was still hooked in the conversations and events playing out on page. I had become so completely wrapped up in Kate and Christopher that I could have read another 100 pages of this book.
This is such a testament to everything that Chloe Liese excels at—character, plot, spice, and above all, disability representation. I cannot wait for Juliet’s story last year (though I must admit I am terrified of a Romeo and Juliet retelling). If you only ever pick up one Chloe Liese book in your lifetime, make it this one.
Hate to love, childhood friends(ish), so much history and angst, not to mention the top notch banter. From the first chapter I was so in love with these characters, this story. I’d already grown attached to Christopher and intrigued by Kate in the first installment of this series, so it was easy to fall completely into the story.
Kate is such an engaging, spunky, chaotic narrator. She is absolutely nothing like me, and yet it was so easy to connect with her and get swept up in her story. She has so much depth to her character, so much earnestness. It is impossible not to love her. Christopher’s POV was similarly enjoyable, though I didn’t find him to be quite as developed as Kate. I think she outshines him just a little. However, I still completely adored him and seeing his interactions with Kate from both angles.
The star of the show (or, in this case, book) was, as always, the disability representation. Kate has ADHD and Christopher has chronic migraines. From the start, Kate’s ADHD is addressed and discussed and it seemlessly seeps into every aspect of her character, every interaction that she has, in a way that is so authentic to the experiences of a neurodivergent person in reality.
Christopher’s disability, on the other hand, is mentioned only briefly and in passing in the early chapters of the novel. Just mentions of past, off-page migraines. It’s brief, not delving into any details or discussing any of the realities of life with a sometimes-debilitating disorder. I was honestly confused—it felt like such a shallow portrayal. Especially in comparison to Kate’s ADHD and the quality of disability representation that permeates every book that Liese writes. However , as the novel progresses, it comes up more and more often and is explored with more and more depth. At about the 70% mark, the book is really diving into the realities of what Christopher is going through in a much more real way, with Liese’s trademark care and skill. That’s when I realized that the minimal discussion of his migraines earlier on was intentional. Christopher, in the beginning of the book, is closed off. He fears vulnerability, even within himself. His migraines are not addressed beyond the bare necessities, because he does not discuss them with anyone. He doesn’t even address them himself, within his own internal monologue, because he doesn’t—can’t—think about it. As he grows as a person and a character as the novel progresses, he becomes more comfortable. He is able to open up to not only Kate, but also himself, and therefore his acknowledgments of his own disability increase and go into greater depth.
I started the book confused and a little disappointed in the lackluster representation, but by the end I found those very aspects to add even more resonance to Christopher’s character, and the disability representation as a whole.
Every single aspect of this book was beyond what I hoped. I found it to be more character driven than plot driven, but the plot beats that were there ratcheted up the tension and left me unable to put the book down—I actually stayed up until nearly 1 AM to keep reading because I simply couldn’t stop. And there was no third act breakup! I strongly dislike the third act breakup trope—if your characters break up at the first sight of conflict, I am unconvinced that they will be able to last as a couple once the book is over. Conflict is inevitable, and in a book it is necessary even. So there’s a third act conflict—two of them, actually—but instead of blowing up like they have no emotional regulation skills, Kate and Christopher have an actual, adult conversation! They work things out! They communicate! It was so refreshing to see characters in a healthy, rational relationship. Even without relying on the overused third act breakup trope, the pacing and tension didn’t die out. I was still hooked in the conversations and events playing out on page. I had become so completely wrapped up in Kate and Christopher that I could have read another 100 pages of this book.
This is such a testament to everything that Chloe Liese excels at—character, plot, spice, and above all, disability representation. I cannot wait for Juliet’s story last year (though I must admit I am terrified of a Romeo and Juliet retelling). If you only ever pick up one Chloe Liese book in your lifetime, make it this one.