Cat Sebastian has quickly become an autobuy author for me with this follow up to “We Could Be So Good”. A beautiful exploration of grief, love, and living as queer individuals in the 1960s. I love the setting, both time period and in the world of journalism/baseball. The reflection on baseball as a sport and a culture made me appreciate how lucky I was to be raised as a fan and to witness games and sports history. I left thoroughly immersed in the life of a struggling player who is also just a human who is learning how to live. I also don’t think I’ve ever read a better storyline/description of a dog than I experienced with Lula. This was just so so perfect and I can’t wait to buy a physical copy and reread both books in like two months 😂

Thanks to Avon and NetGalley for the ARC!

Cat Sebastian historical romance + baseball + grumpy journalist + down on his luck ball player? Sign me UP.

I was dying with questions about Mark Bailey after WCBSG. A journalist that reviews queer books in the 50’s and seems to have some secrets of his own piqued my interest. And baseball is one of the few loves of my life so I was all in for this book.

And I loved it. Obviously. It’s much softer in tone than WCBSG (which was delightfully angsty) but dealt with sadder material. But it never feels *sad*. It’s hopeful. It’s about being down on your luck and trying to get back to who you used to be before the Big Shift happened (Mark after his partner passed and Eddie after his career spiraled after being traded). And it’s two pretty unlikely lovers finding each other and working to be together despite the obstacles of y’know being queer in a time period where it’s illegal.

There’s a lot of grief work happening here. And I LOVED that Cat talks about how you can grieve things that aren’t people. Like your home. Who you used to be. The people that are still alive, but far away. And Mark and Eddie do it together. The relationship is cozy in the way all CS book couples are cozy. But they’re not without trials. Mark is afraid to dive in head first with Eddie due to almost a decade of hiding who he was and who he loved, to the point of finding out about his partner’s funeral services from the obituary section. But Eddie is so…optimistic in a way Mark needs. And Mark is level headed in a way Eddie needs. They’re so perfect for each other and it’s a slow burn fall before they get on the same page. But it’s perfect for them and their story.

Plus there’s a snooty dog that stole the page everytime she appeared. Go Lula, girl.

Thank you to Avon and Cat Sebastian for an ARC copy! All thoughts and opinions are my own!

I rarely give five-star ratings, and now I think I've done three in a row. What's up with that? Never fear, the streak won't last—which is a fitting way to start a review of a baseball romance.

Cat Sebastian is so good at writing quiet stories, and this, I think, is my favorite of hers in a while. Even so, it's strange for a story about a professional baseball player to be as peaceful as this one is, and especially given the historical setting, I kept waiting for a horrible shoe to drop. <spoiler>It doesn't. Or... not <i>that</i> shoe, anyhow.</spoiler>

Despite that constant underlying tension (which is right there on the page, pretty much from the start)—and the many threads of grief and loss that run through the whole book—the men themselves are stalwart, and their love grows steadily and faithfully. I suspect I'll enjoy this story even more the second time through.

My thanks to the publisher/NetGalley for an advance copy of this book.

We are all lucky to be living in a world where Cat Sebastian is writing romance. This book is 2% plot, 98% character exploration and development. It takes a master of the craft to make a book like this work, to make it compelling and magnetic.

Sebastian deploys 3rd person present to great effect, showing us the evolution of Mark and Eddie’s thoughts about themselves and about each other. She has a knack for describing a feeling that is at once so specific and also so easily generalizable. With economical prose, she builds layers of understanding that seem to coalesce suddenly, conveying so much meaning in a single word or phrase or glance or touch that it takes your breath away.

Empathy is a through line in these books- Mark and Eddie are so careful with each other and what they are going through, individually and together. Sebastian never judges her characters for their insecurities or their choices, an especially fine needle to thread in this book when it would have been so easy to allow the reader to make comparisons between Mark’s former lover and Eddie. But Sebastian isn’t interested in anything that unfair or clean cut. Grief and opening himself up to love again show Mark different facets of himself without taking away from what came before. For Eddie, leaving home and facing adversity reveal new depths within himself too. And baseball is a lovely metaphor here- as with Eddie grappling his way to a new swing, each man learns how to construct the life they want with conscious choice and intention , no longer able to rely on instinct because they know what it feels like to lose something integral. Rarely does a book actually bring me to tears, but the precious, hard won emotional connections in this one did.

How to possibly enumerate the ways this book is amazing? Mark and Eddie connect through late night phone calls discussing books of varying quality with latent or overt gay undertones. Eddie has a praise kink (of course he does he’s such a good boy) and Mark likes anything as long as Eddie is intensely into it. Each side character is fleshed out- Eddie’s mom and coach and teammate, Mark’s aging colleague— none of them are tokens. Even Lula the dog has a fully realized personality! It’s a marvel. You know that feeling when you read a good romance and the sweetness and joy and love just bubble up inside of you even once the book is over? I’m going to ride that feeling for a while.

So achingly sweet and heartfelt that I’d inexplicably find myself in tears during moments that were decidedly Not Sad. And then, of course, there were the actual tear-jerker moments. I can’t get over how much the exploration of grief, perseverance, and piecing yourself back together affected me. This concept doesn’t only apply to Mark, but Eddie, as well, and even Eddie’s team. How do you keep going when you’ve suddenly lost parts of yourself so integral to who you are? Or, when it seems like no matter how hard you try, you just keep striking out? (literally)

Books on grief are almost always guaranteed to hit me hard, but there’s an added layer here that makes it even more affecting. Mark is grieving his partner of several years, William, and their relationship was kept secret to protect William’s career. To know how deeply you have to love someone to conceal such a huge part of yourself and know that you would’ve done even worse just to have a second longer with them. To not know if they ever would’ve given everything else up to be honest about their relationship with you. To even live in a world that forces both of you to make these awful sacrifices. As if it’s not already utterly devastating to mourn someone so important to you, to have to do it all alone because nobody even knew about your relationship just leaves me at a loss for words. This doesn’t shy away from the weird ways grief can manifest itself and Eddie is SO understanding and lovely about it that it made my heart hurt. Mark deserves nothing less.

So basically…there were a lot of tears. Yet through it all, it still felt like a warm hug. There’s just something about how queer people and queer love are portrayed with so much care and compassion, especially considering the time period. And it’s not a Cat Sebastian book if I don’t abuse the highlighter. Why is she so good with words!! The power that the word “ours” alone can hold. The fact that such a simple concept can be so profound.

It’s impossible not to see how masterfully Sebastian writes romance. With electric tension and beautiful, organic development between captivating characters that blossoms into the sweetest, loveliest, most domestic relationship, it’s an absolute pleasure to read.

Oh and how can I forget to mention the way they bond over books, specifically queer books!! The importance of queer literature and representation Got Me in We Could Be So Good too, but here it’s even more salient to Mark and Eddie’s relationship. They frequently bond over books, and I’ve never been so jealous of anything in my life.

Huge thank you to Avon and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Having thoroughly enjoyed “We Could Be So Good,” I was delighted to receive an ARC copy of “You Should Be So Lucky” from NetGalley.
After finishing the book this morning, I find myself still processing its impact. It left me with a mix of emotions—happiness, hopefulness, and a touch of sadness as I don’t know what to do next. I’m not ready to leave these boys behind!. This book is only my second read of Cat Sebastian's writing, and there's something undeniably romantic yet grounded in reality about her style. Each sentence feels purposeful, and says so much. I would not advise skimming anything - you’ll miss so much depth!

Moving on to the story itself, I found both Mark and Eddy to be such loveable characters, though it's nearly impossible not to adore Eddy. His love and yearning for his mother and the simple joy of meaningful conversation resonated.. Set against the backdrop of 1960s NYC just a little after “We Could Be So Good,” the narrative delves into themes of grief, secrecy, and the complexities of love during that time period. The baseball element, while present, doesn't overwhelm the plot— especially for readers like myself who have read many(many!) baseball-themed MM romances.

Comparing it to its predecessor, I think I found “You Should Be So Lucky” even more endearing, primarily due to Eddy's character, though Andy from the previous book still holds a special place. I'm hopeful we get to see more of Mark & Eddy in the future (Please Cat?!)
“You Should Be So Lucky” is a beautifully crafted story with swoon-worthy dialogue, a hint of spice, and a celebration of love. It earns its place as my second 5-star read of the year.

This book is unrelentingly romantic. Sweetness and light - and angst and heartbreak and grief and homesickness and strength and fear - and found family and acceptance and love.

I confess I read this, went back to read “We Could Be So Good” and then read this a second time.

I love that this is set in 1960s NYC, the view of this time in particular is interesting, just after the second Red Scare and just before Hippies, free love, and the Vietnam War. There’s an active gay subculture - especially in NYC - but at the same time secrecy is extremely important. Each of the characters in Cat Sebastian’s books deal with this struggle a different way and bring different baggage along with them.

The contrasts between Mark Bailey, book and art critic, inheritor of money and servant to Lula the dog (who is also heartbroken and grieving), and Eddie O’Leary, midwestern shortstop (that’s a baseball field position) whose life is upended when he’s sent to New York - and finds out, live on television. Eddie’s loneliness in his new situation reflects Mark’s, and it’s something they recognize in each other. Eddie is not used to hiding himself away, though, and like a stray cat he keeps approaching Mark until they’re thoroughly entangled in each other - to the delight of everyone else involved, including Lula.

Sebastian is a prolific writer - you know what you’re getting when you pick up her books - and this one is delightfully one of the best. This can be read as a stand-alone - side characters in this were the featured couple in “We Could Be So Good.”

How is it possible for a book to be so low-angst and yet make me cry at least 10 times?? I loved this so much - I read it in 1 sitting and then started it over again. I think it's one of her best ones yet and that's saying a lot if you've read any of her other books!

This book follows Mark, a reporter (ex-reporter?) a year and a half into grieving the loss of his partner, and Eddie, a professional baseball player who is in hot water after a not-so-great public reaction to a trade. If you've read other Cat Sebastian books, you know low angst is kind of her specialty (and why I will read every book she ever releases the moment of their release). This one is no different! The thing about Cat Sebastian is that she doesn't need to stress me out with the plot when she can emotionally wreck me with her character's own emotional turmoil. Mark's grief was so real and complicated and anytime it came up I was immediately a puddle on the ground.

If you enjoy any of Cat's other books, especially We Could Be So Good, or the Cabot series, you will probably love this. I was so, so excited to receive an ARC in exchange for an honest review!!

Thank you Cat Sebastian for writing this romantic heartfelt story ( and thank you to NetGalley an Avon for providing me with an ARC) . It is the story of Mark, a feature write that has been assigned to ghostwrite a weekly diary for a baseball player (Eddie). Mark is traveling through his grief over having lost his partner of seven years to a heart attack. Eddie is new to the team (an expansion team with a terrible record). Before joining the team, he bad mouths it to the press, so none of his new teammates will talk to him. Eddie is a bit of a golden retriever and Mark is a cynic. But oh how they complete each other Cat Sebastian has crafted these characters in to such complex and real men. At one point Mark talks about a book that uses baseball as a metaphor, and Cat is clearly doing that. A metaphor for moving forward, having hope, allowing yourself to love completely. This was such a lovely book. It is set in 1960 and certainly acknowledges the horrors that require folks to remain closeted. Which makes the journey to love so brave. I just loved these men. I recommend it completely.

Many thanks to Net Galley for the advance reading copy of this eBook. This review may contain spoilers.

I’d recommend this book to people looking for a M/M historical romance that deals with topics of grief, visibility/erasure, and found family. For people interested in the love scenes, this book is definitely open door, but not very explicit. I think the strongest element of the book is the dedication the author had to crafting a believable, but optimistic, historical romance in the context of queer men in sports and journalism in the late 50s/early 60s. The weakest is the prose, which I’m assuming will probably be a lot more tightened in the final book. Overall, I think some line-by-line editing is what would benefit this book most. I wouldn’t mind reading more from the author, at some point.

Grammar and spelling were fine—consistent, and overall unnoticeable—while syntax and word choice were clear and straightforward. There’s a noticeable repetitiveness of names within sentences (I.E., “Eddie’d like to know how divorced from reality this lady has to be to think that Eddie can’t talk to reporters”) and occasional awkward phrasing (I.E., “Luis yells at me in Spanish if I even look at the paper”). I think revisions paring down on repetition would polish the book off quite a bit. Otherwise, phrasing was very linear and easy to understand. Dialogue struck me as a little unnatural at times, particularly when the book is trying to be funny, but it’s solid enough and I imagine will be tightened up some more in the months before publishing.

The narrative is put together well enough, though it feels a bit less focused towards the end. The overarching structure, with dual point of view split between Mark and Eddie, each section being dictated by month and season, works well to show the passage of time without sacrificing pacing. Depth of perspective occasionally felt a little off: most of the time, it’s very anchored to the point of view character for that chapter, but a few times, it unmoored a little and had me double-checking whose chapter it was. I would have liked the secondary plots, like Mark’s article, George’s health, whatever was going on between Tony and Constance, etcetera to get a little more screen time. I think that would have also helped to fill out the passage of time without making things feel too rushed or too slow, especially towards the end of the book.

I appreciate that the author didn’t boil the characters down to individual tropes without depth. While this book is marketed as grumpy/sunshine, and it meets the qualifications, the characters extend beyond those labels, too. This book deals with an issue I have with a lot of grumpy/sunshine dynamics head-on: often the “sunshine” characters are infantilized by authors, other characters, and readers, without any acknowledgment of the fact. While this book definitely does show people infantilizing Eddie, there’s also a clear awareness in the narrative that he’s a grown man being infantilized. While it’s not directly called that, this is one major conflict at play in his relationship with Mark; Mark has trouble allowing Eddie the dignity of risk regarding his sexuality, and this is something that gets addressed and resolved. Especially considering Eddie seems to be coded as neurodivergent, I appreciate the effort made to avoid infantilizing him within the overarching narrative.

I think the author did a decent job at actually establishing dynamics that feel like found family here; so often that label falls flat, but there’s depth to those dynamics here. I think this is an extension of the fact that the extended cast are treated as characters with their own interior worlds and lives off-screen, which is something I wish more romance books had. I will say that I wish the rest of the baseball team beyond Eddie, Ardolino, and Price had a bit more screentime and development. I also wish there were more development put into Mark and George’s dynamic—the skeleton of it is there, and it’s solid, but some more scenes of the two of them before the heart attack could strengthen the impact. As a disabled person, George Allen’s character arc around losing ability really resonated with me; I would have liked to see more of George in the story.

I noticed several times throughout the ARC that the author only seems to specify a character’s race and ethnicity when they’re nonwhite. I understand lots of authors do this, but only acknowledging the identities of marginalized people and not that of cishet white people contributes to the misconception that privileged identities are the “default” and are to be assumed if not specified otherwise, so it’s worth pointing out, in my opinion. There is also a bit of implicitly ableist language utilized in a way that feels neither intentional or purposeful which I think could stand to be adjusted. The use of “slow” as a pejorative (as in “slow in the head”, a popular euphemism for the R slur) and negative use of the term “handicap” (which is not inherently bad when used to refer to evening the playing field for disabled people, but when used negatively to refer to detriments, it can do harm), are two instances that stuck out to me in particular.

I appreciate that, while the book is ultimately optimistic, it also doesn’t pretend that things were—or are—easy. I get why a lot of queer romance novels don’t focus on that aspect, and pure escapism has its place in art too, but sometimes, it’s just nice to feel seen in the more difficult moments. Along those lines, I often find that romances treat closeted characters (and by extension closeted readers) in a way that comes across as demeaning, judgmental, and cruel. This book, thankfully, approaches the closet with compassion and nuance, discussing the difficulties of being closeted and dating a closeted person without playing into harmful ideas about closeted people owing it to people to come out. There’s also a lot of empathy towards people experiencing addiction in this book, which was very refreshing to see.

I was a huge fan of We Could Be So Good and was very eager to read You Should Be So Lucky. Mark is grieving and Eddie is homesick. Both are uniquely lonely in a big, busy city and in ways most people wouldn't probably understand. Their friendship and relationship develop in such a lovely way. They learn more about each other and understand each other better and it's beautiful.

I loved this book! I absolutely devoured it, staying up later than normal, unable to put the book down! I felt for Mark and Eddie and the unique struggles they faced. Watching the ways they overcame it together and separately was delightful. There were moments when my heart ached and moments when I couldn't stop smiling. It was a joy to read! I love a good baseball book and this did not disappoint in that regard! As Eddie (and Mark) settled in with the team, it was easy for the reader to do so as well.

The themes of loss, grief, and loneliness were handled so carefully and done so without making it a sad book. It was happy and about two people finding each other when they really needed to. It's easy to feel the emotions these characters are feeling.

Thank you to Netgalley and Avon for this ARC!

I made an honest effort to take my time with this one; I already know I love Cat Sebastian’s writing, and I just loved We Could Be So Good, but once I got started on this one, I could barely put it down.

In broad strokes, this is a historical romance between a baseball player newly traded to NYC’s expansion team and the reporter assigned to follow him for a season, writing weekly diaries. Eddie, our athlete, is in the midst of an alarming slump. Mark, our journalist, is 17 months into mourning a late partner who kept him a secret for years.

Obviously the love story is front and center. It’s a slow burn, and Eddie is so deliberate that the reader is even demanding he just give in already. But the book is so much more than that. What it boils down to is: sometimes bad things happen for no reason, and we still must persevere.

You will fall in love with Eddie and Mark, of this I’m certain. But the world and characters beyond them are so clearly drawn that you’ll want to go back in time and join a terrible baseball team, just for the chance to play poker on the back of a plane with Sam Price and Tony Ardolino.

Couldn’t have loved it more. Five stars. Thanks to NetGalley and publisher for the ARC.

Love love loved this book! I heard that this book was getting rave reviews and immediately went on NetGalley to request a copy.

I flew through this novel, I laughed, I teared up, and I love and appreciate how everything wrapped up. There’s so much heart and emotion in this book. Yes, it’s a romance, but it’s also a story of loss, of friendship, and of overcoming hurdles that get in your way. The amount of love in each story line is apparent throughout the book.

This book also boasts some of the most complex plot I’ve read in a 300ish page romance in a while. George’s friendship with Mark, Eddie’s relationship with his mom, Ardolino’s entire arc, and Mark healing from loss and reconnecting with life are some incredible highs. I love and appreciate so much when the world is populated by a vibrant cast of characters and Cat delivered that in spades. Eddie and Mark are center stage of course, but they are surrounded by so many wonderful, loving people.

I’d heard that anything that Cat Sebastian writes is an instant buy for many people, and I get it. What a wonderful, warm hug of a book. One that made me tear up at the end but in such a sweet, peaceful way. (Also, I should call out that some of the one liners in this book are heartbreakingly perfect. If I was on my kindle I would have highlighted so many things!)

Bravo, loved it! I’ll absolutely buy more of Cat’s books.

Thank you so much to NetGalley, Harper Collins Publishers, and the author for an early copy in exchange for an honest review!

A sweeping, heartwarming, gay baseball romance? Uh, yeah. Sign me up.

This book was so much more than I could have anticipated, and I am just continually blown away by romance books that do such a good job dealing with themes of grief and healing and personal growth. Cat Sebastian, especially, approached the topic of losing someone you once saw forever in, and what happiness looks like after they are gone.

"He isn't in any danger of throwing himself out of windows or acquiring interesting new habits of self-destruction. It's just that when he tries to figure out what the point is in getting out of bed every morning, he doesn't always have the answer."

Even this- this feeling of being numb to the world, clinging only to routine and responsibility- is so relatable on a variety of different levels, and I think that the author truly did a beautiful job in giving a voice to those feelings, while also showing that there is hope- a way out of it, or at least a way to start.

The characters were also such a charming part of this book, and Eddie and Mark are an adorable golden retriever/black cat duo. I love how in many ways, they are opposites to each other, complete other ends of the spectrum. But in others, they are complements, finding a space to meet in the middle. Their chemistry with each other was so believable, and I truly loved watching them both progress not only as a couple, but as individuals with their own baggage and demons to process. Nothing about them felt forced, and I found myself rooting for them from their first interaction.

And if the MCs weren't enough- the side characters were amazing. Through it all, they became a little family built on respect, acceptance, love, and sheesh if I don't love a good found family scenario. This one, in particular, was special to me. Seeing Eddie and Mark find the spaces where they felt seen and welcomed as gay men in a world that had, in many ways, turned its back on them made me so emotional.

"Still, this book is something solid that Eddie can hold in his hands, real proof that queer people exist, that he exists."

I truly cannot wait for all the people that pick up this book and, like Eddie, know that they exist and matter in the world. It was filled with hope and joy, friendships and love, and a whole lot of baseball. It was beautiful, and I highly recommend!

Well, this book was just so darn delightful. I'm always in for a book that involves baseball, and the way it intersected with romance was just absolutely perfection. In the 1960 season, Eddie has been traded from the Kansas City A's (and a KC connection, even a fictional one, always has my heart) to the New York Robins. Due to some comments and his general attitude, he's far from someone the fans love. Mark is a reporter who isn't writing much these days, and then he's assigned to be the ghostwriter for Eddie's diary of the season to turn fans' views of him around. Y'all, the relationship between these two, as well as these two as individual characters, was just absolutely wonderful. There was delightful banter, but also some really emotional "stuff" that they each had to work through that made me adore them. I also loved the supporting characters and what they added to the story, as well as how the realities of the time built the setting. I could say in so many different ways that I just loved this one y'all! Thanks to NetGalley for the early look at this May 2024 release!

Vibes: New Yooooork, romance so sweet you have to smile, love after loss, and like... I don't know how to put this... the feeling Bull Durham gives me but gay and less toxically masculine?

Heat Index: 5/10

Reporter Mark Bailey doesn't want to cover baseball, and he especially doesn't want to cover Eddie O'Leary, a former rising star who's been playing the worst ball of his life. But it may be better than staying at home and mourning the partner he never got to claim while he was alive. Eddie, on the other hand, is a bit perturbed about giving a personalized account of his current losses to an apparent snob. But as they travel around New York together, Mark finds himself giving some of his own story to Eddie... and falling in love in the process. It's impossible for Eddie to be out, and Mark doesn't want to be someone's secret again--what could their future possibly be?

I love Cat Sebastian, and this book gives me what I want from her: humor, swoony romance, and a richly described, fleshed out world. I've been really impressed by her ability to weave in a setting that really doesn't have a strong "background" in historical romance--midcentury NYC. The way she writes it feels both nostalgic and tangible; and it's not easy for historical romance authors to step out of the settings readers are more used to (Regency, Victorian).

There's something cozy and wry to the way Eddie and Mark fall in love, and I frankly adored their contrasting personalities. Young, somewhat bewildered Eddie, trying his fucking best all the time. Picky, somewhat pretentious, jaded Mark--just unable to stop himself from falling for Eddie's puppyish eagerness.

If you loved We Could Be So Good, you'll love this. If you're less familiar with Sebastian, I suspect you will, too.

Quick Takes:

--There's a rich history of baseball movies, right? Many of which are enjoyed by people who don't get baseball. As referenced above, I personally love Bull Durham (even if the stars are............................... hmm). I have no idea what goes on during baseball, but I do. This book works similarly. You can tell Sebastian knows what she's talking about, you don't have to understand baseball to get the book. It's portrayed in that kind of shorthand that's really about creating a vibe and a setting for the love story, which is so smart.

--I loved the way Mark's grief was depicted. It's arguably harder for him to move on with his life because so few people know that he is grieving, that he did lose his partner. And it's not treated as something that has to compete with his new love for Eddie, and it's not treated like something that's just going to magically go away. It's always going to be there; and it can exist beside his love for Eddie without invalidating it.

I find that a lot of romance novels involving widows and widowers downplay the previous spouse, and I get that. It's difficult to tell a love story that could be accidentally overshadowed by a previous one. However, that can be a little repetitive for me, and it was nice to read a book in which the romance was so tender and so REAL and so centered (there isn't much PLOT PLOT here--it's two people falling in love, there ya go) that also acknowledged that there was another tender and real love story beforehand. Plus, Eddie's understanding and lack of insecurity makes him even more lovable.

--In a lot of ways, this book is low stakes. It's mostly character, there isn't a lot of drama in the romance, they get along, and so forth. However, on the other hand... it does have very high stakes, right? Eddie cannot be a successful professional athlete while being out. Mark, who's kind of quietly out (and works at a newspaper that is pretty much aware of this and okay with it, through some stuff that has to do with WCBSG) understandably doesn't want to be hidden in the shadows. How do we address that?

Personally, I really liked how Sebastian did it. Balancing realism and romance is challenging, and I think she handled this without sacrificing either aspect.

--Ooooh I love people falling in love without realizing it, and damn, Mark does that. But you as the reader also kind of slip into them being in love, too. It feels totally natural. There's a real "that's the summer I fell in love" to this one, and I don't really know if that's going to make sense to a lot of people, but it does to ME.

The Sex:

The door isn't CLOSED, but it's kinda close to being there. You know exactly what's happening, and there are several scenes, but it's all sort of... implied. Even though you're there with them. It's all very romantic (and kind of titillating at points--it's so fun to see Eddie and Mark talk around sex and then get very blunt about it at points) but I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the heat level Sebastian wrote in The Queer Principles of Kit Webb. It's not ridiculous level of heat, it's just a bit more explicit.

Read this and get lulled into love--while also kind of wanting a hot dog? (Literally, not figuratively.) And to walk down a sidewalk in a sort of warm and nonexistent yet also very existent New York City? Talking to someone you're falling for, knowing that they're falling for you, while imagining kissing their mouth?

It's that sensibility.

Thanks to NetGalley and Avon for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

I know we all remember Mark Bailey, he who thrust The Charioteer at Nick Russo in We Could Be So Good, he whom Nick saw talking with another man outside the Everard Baths one night.

That other man was William, Mark's longtime lover, and sometime shortly after the end of WCBSG (1958) and the opening of You Should Be So Lucky (1960), he has died. Suddenly, at 34, of a heart attack in his office, and because his work and political ambitions required him to be even deeper in the closet than most queer people, Mark wouldn't even have known where and when the funeral was if he hadn't seen an announcement in the paper. He has friends who love him -- we know them from WCBSG: Lilian and Maureen, Nick and Andy -- but a grief you can't publicly acknowledge is a grief beyond words, and Mark isn't doing so well. He's even, at least officially, quit his job at the Chronicle.

Thankfully, Andy has an assignment for him: ghostwrite the diary of Eddie O'Leary, the shortstop on NYC's new and catastrophically terrible baseball team, the Robins. Eddie's got a reputation as a grade-A [word for which "jerk" is a euphemism], on account of how when he was traded to the Robins from the Kansas City A's, he threw a public tantrum. Mark's research reveals that Eddie might have had his reasons, he manifests himself in the Robins' locker room to meet him, and we're off.

There's so much here about the sheer precariousness of gay lives in 1960: Mark's isolation in his grief. The things William did for him as some compensation for the fact that they lived even deeper in the closet than usual for queer people. Eddie's longing for the "privacy" he had back in KC, where he wasn't famous and could go out and get laid from time to time. Eddie's realization, as his relationship with Mark grows and as, in parallel, the Robins begin to cohere as a team, that he will always, fundamentally, be an outsider, and that he didn't feel that way in KC largely because he didn't have a partner and a queer community and thus could put his queerness in a tiny box and set it aside as needed. The habits of concealment Mark developed over his years with William, and which he struggles to set aside now that he can. Mark's decision that since he no longer has to act straight for William's sake, he can -- not formally come out to the world at large, but stop working to keep straight people from noticing that he's queer. And the conflict this presents with how Eddie, if he wants to keep playing baseball, is in essentially the same position as William.

The batting slump that Eddie's in at the book's outset, and how he emerges from it, runs parallel with Mark's grief and depression. Without giving away any spoilers about that or about the conflict between closetiness and authenticity, the process for both of them is about how you remake yourself in the aftermath of disaster, how you decide what risks are worth taking, and finding ways to community and connection while minimizing those risks.

There are glitches in YSBSL, because there's no such thing as perfection. Sometimes Eddie's voice sounds, to my ear, a little too much like Mark's. Occasionally there's a turn of phrase that someone as old as I am recognizes as of relatively recent vintage. But holy cats did I ever highlight a lot of passages, and that was almost always because they made me laugh or because I was pausing over the insight. (And, speaking of insights, one thing Cat Sebastian is really good at is framing them without hitting you over the head in that after-school-special manner that rots a reader's teeth.)

Also: my dad and I used to follow the Mets together. They were the Robins, only a couple of years after YSBSL is set, and everything Cat Sebastian has to say about rooting for a losing team is spot on. It was lovely and bittersweet to be reminded.

Thanks to NetGalley and Avon for the ARC.

Excuse me, who gave Cat Sebastian permission to write the softest and warmest and most tender queer historical romance specifically designed to make my heart ache with both sadness and happiness at the same time?? Oh wait, I did.

I am a fan of Sebastian's work, and I firmly believe that her writing sweet spot is in the soft, domestic, cozy kind of book. YOU SHOULD BE SO LUCKY is exactly that but, like, turned up to a zillion. It's for the readers who want, need, yearn to see historical queer love that isn't centered around trauma and fear. Don't get me wrong - there *is* pain in this story, but it's the grief of remembering the person you loved, and who loved you, tinged with the frustration, the anger of having to be kept a secret. I never thought I could be so emotional over a jar of cherries. And Eddie? UGH, EDDIE. The way he interacts with William's grief is so, so beautiful. Not a hint of jealousy in sight. I'm so glad Sebastian chose to write William's grief and, particularly, how Eddie deals with it the way she did.

This one's quite a bit heavier on the baseball than WE COULD BE SO GOOD. Readers who don't like, or perhaps don't care about, baseball may find that this bogs down the story. For this reader, however, who very much enjoys baseball in real life and in books, the deep and thoughtful incorporation of baseball and slumps and endings and second chances was nothing short of perfect.

I would read a million more of these books, and I will absolutely need a physical copy for myself to sigh and gush over and mark and scribble to keep forever.

Infinite thanks to Avon Books (an imprint of HarperCollins) for this eARC! All opinions expressed here are my own.

I loved every word of this book. Eddie and Mark are so lovely and sweet, though Mark would disagree that he is. The portrayal of Mark’s grief was raw and perfect. Eddie’s loneliness and despair when nothing is going right was so palpable. The dialogue was fantastic, sharp and funny.

Genre: historical romance
New York City, 1960

Shortstop Eddie O’Leary has some choice words to share with the press when he’s traded from Kansas City to the new baseball team in New York, the Robins. Likewise, Mark Bailey has some choice words for his boss at the newspaper The Chronicle, Andy, when he suggests that Mark write a feature on Eddie. Mark isn’t a sportswriter - he’s a semi-retired 28-year-old book critic - but Andy is looking for ways to resurrect print circulation and he knows Mark needs some direction. And then Mark meets Eddie. He’s a little coarse and a little naive, but Mark senses a familiar loneliness, and something else, behind the star player with the current league-worst batting slump.

Cat Sebastian. Wow.
I’m honestly not sure I possessed the empathetic capacity to encompass the emotions running roughshod over my heart while reading this book. For a reader like me who adores a love story filled with pining, that’s saying something. Eddie’s slump and Mark’s grief put them in unique positions as sad bois meant to be together, and yet the way Sebastian writes their story is gentle rather than depressing. For each of these men looking to rediscover themselves, their individual arcs could be enough. But they keep showing up for one another when they sense the other needs it most.

This is a love story between two men who both embrace their sexuality, but because it’s 1960 have both learned to hide parts of themselves from the world. For Mark, it’s because he had to outwardly remain the straight roommate of his last partner, and when William is gone, Mark knows he can never hide like that anymore. For Eddie, he’s a star baseball player in a league that barely accepts racial differences, much less a queer teammate. And yet, over and over, Eddie isn’t willing to give up on inviting Mark out with the team (to help write the articles, of course), or to stop calling him every night he’s on the road. And Mark can’t help but feel his heart melting for the sweetheart Eddie is.

This is also a love story for the sport of baseball. There are enough stats to keep a baseball nerd happy, and Cat Sebastian’s dedication to the beauty of America’s pastime, in an era when the country moved at the pace of baseball, is enthralling. She gives us George Allen, a reporter who has covered the game for so long that he can’t imagine doing anything else with his life. She gives us a manager, who shows up drunk and struggling with his own demons, but knows more about team building and sport than any other manager in the league, and a female team owner whose hands-on approach to the game is shocking to the sensibilities of 1960s sports standards.

You Should Be So Lucky is about the love of a game, the keen observation of the heart, abiding friendship, and fitting in.