I didn’t pick up The Pumpkin Spice Café on my own. It came to me as a gift—from my wife, who thought I could use something light and cozy. And to be fair, the book delivered on that front: it’s drenched in warm, autumnal vibes, set in a charming small town, with plenty of cinnamon-scented atmosphere to spare.
But cozy alone isn’t enough for me.
I’ll say this first: I did enjoy the characters. Jeanie and Logan had an easy charm, and their chemistry made me smile. The town itself felt like a Hallmark postcard in the best way. I like those grounded, quiet settings where everyone knows your name and the local gossip travels faster than the Wi-Fi.
But here’s where it lost me: the pace.
We’re talking insta-love of the highest order. Jeanie and Logan lock eyes, and suddenly it’s all intense longing and dramatic heartbeats. I kept wanting to tap the author on the shoulder and whisper, slow down. Let things simmer. Let us savor the tension. Let these people figure themselves out before they dive headfirst into declarations and life-altering decisions.
And the conflicts? Blink and they’re gone. Every time a potentially interesting complication arose, it got neatly packaged and resolved within a page or two. I was desperate for a little more mess, a little more time to breathe. Sometimes, the best parts of a story happen in the in-between moments—the doubts, the missteps, the slow unfolding of trust.
So yes, the book is cozy. It’s got charm. It’s full of pumpkin spice and heartfelt intention. But for me, it was all vibes, no depth. I wanted to linger longer in that world, but the story rushed me out the door before I’d even finished my latte. Still, I don’t regret reading it.
Cover photo from Merel (Black Birdies Blog)