Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

She can’t cook, she can’t clean, she can’t find her way even with GPS, but can she find her way to a new life working as someone’s roommate/maid? I chose Roommaid as my September First Reads novel because a light romantic comedy seemed just the ticket to escape reality for a bit during this pandemic. It turns out Madison Huntington is working really hard to escape also: her family, her boyfriend, her life of privilege… Madison Huntington has lived her entire life surrounded by luxury, money, servants… Her family has neglected and despised her because she wasn’t the boy they wanted. They have told her what to do, what to study, who to marry, and all she has to do to have everything is to do nothing at all. But that’s not the way she rolls. When Madison announced she was going to be a teacher, they threw her out. Well, that didn’t stop them from continuing to tell her who to marry, how to live, etc. But Madison has other plans, and one of them – having her own apartment so she’ll quit driving her friend crazy – leads her to Tyler Roth, who needs a live-in dog sitter and housekeeper. She may have lied a bit about her qualifications (“I was so going to spend my eternity being the devil’s permanent houseguest.”) As usual, when an inept trust fund kiddo tries to learn to do everyday chores, hijinks ensue. But that’s not what makes this book special. Sariah Wilson has a way of winding truly funny moments around snippets of the human condition, of growing characters through adversity that we care about and root for. I don’t often read something that’s meant as straight romantic comedy, but Roommaid hit a sweet spot for me. It was truly sweet without sappy, poignant without pathos, and sass without snark. A quick, fun, uplifting read that never went too far with the romance, but just far enough. I’ll definitely be picking up other books by Sariah Wilson and see if they banish the doldrums as much as Roommaid did. Just a nice amount of fun and sunlight with bits of wisdom strewn along the way. And I have to love any author who creates a character who so understands how I feel about abstract art: “I don’t want to be that guy in the art museum, but I think this is . . . not all that impressive. If I’m being honest, it looks like the colors got drunk at a party, threw up, and then started procreating with the other colors in the room, creating color-spot babies and then they also threw up and this is the end result.”