Good Spirits

B.K. Borison writes small-town romance with a kind of unembarrassed sincerity that feels almost radical. Good Spirits continues her “Lovelight Farms” universe with the same signature warmth — low burn, high heart — and the refusal to apologize for wanting joy in fiction.

This book is not melodrama. It’s a slice of life where the tension is not if two people will fall for each other but how they will weather the everyday obstacles that make intimacy hard. Borison knows her readers don’t come for shock twists — they come for the vibe: a community that feels lived-in, people who speak to each other like actual adults, and emotional stakes that are grounded in the truth of making space for someone else in your life.

The romance here is gentle but not flimsy. Borison understands that the most profound moments between two people are often the smallest ones — the way someone makes coffee, or remembers a quirk, or tries harder than they have to. Those details are where her writing shines. She specializes in that soft, domestic magic.

Some readers may crave sharper conflict or more structural tension. Borison isn’t interested in blowing up her world for plot pyrotechnics. She is building comfort without sentimentality, and in a genre that often chases “high drama” as proof of seriousness, Good Spirits is a refusal: that love can be compelling even when it is kind.

There are laughs here, and some spice, but the beating heart is the ordinary miracle of two people choosing each other.