Susan
Though Jo and Lauren met by chance with a deadline on their day, their hope for a future refused to be framed as something fixed—what they longed for was something more, something all humans want... tomorrow.
A Place for Us is one of those rare books that lodges itself in your heart, making space for lives lived in the historical margins to shine proudly and unapologetically. Told in an intimate and emotionally rich voice, Patricia Greyhall chronicles the frustrations, resilience, and deep love of two women—Jo and Lauren—who must fight to be together, not only against the people in their immediate lives but also against the broader forces of bureaucracy, culture, and time.
Set against the backdrop of the late 20th century—after the watershed of Stonewall but long before full societal acceptance—this novel captures a period of both progress and constraint. The 1980s in particular were marked by growing visibility and painful resistance, and Greyhall weaves that complexity into Jo and Lauren’s journey with grace. Their love isn’t just a personal story—it’s shaped by the world in which they dared to live it. And their hope isn't framed as something radical, but something human.
Although the novel spans a wide arc of time, these years apart are far more than a frame—they allow readers to witness the depth of Jo and Lauren’s bond as it withstands distance, societal shifts, and personal trials. In parallel, the story traces the evolving arc of LGBTQ history, highlighting how both love and identity are shaped by changing landscapes. It’s a portrait not just of longing, but of endurance, quiet hope, and the belief that joy—however deferred—can still arrive.
Greyhall’s storytelling is undeniable, and her structural choices give Jo and Lauren’s relationship the full gravity of LGBTQ+ history across continents. Unlike many stories that remain rooted in the U.S., this novel moves through the UK, France, and Canada, offering an understated yet powerful reflection on national cultures and the quiet endurance of queer love. It’s not a polemic—it’s a portrait of two intelligent women navigating the world as it is, yearning for the simple, human right to love and live like everyone else.
Though the connection between Jo and Lauren is undeniably intimate, Greyhall handles their relationship with the emotional depth of classic women’s fiction—more lingering glance than open door. Their love unfolds with subtlety, giving space for readers of all kinds to feel the resonance without ever veering into graphic terrain. This novel also offers a gentle path for readers who may be new to LGBTQ+ stories—inviting them in not through confrontation, but through empathy, clarity, and the kind of intimacy that transcends identity.
This isn’t a romance in the traditional genre sense—it’s a decades-spanning emotional odyssey grounded in character and culture.
The story begins in a London pub in 1981, where Lauren and Jo meet—not with fireworks, but with a quiet, knowing. Lauren is still stepping into her identity; Jo, more secure in her own, carries the quiet confidence of lived experience. Their meeting carries a bittersweet immediacy—something glimmering and rare that must end, like the pub’s closing bell. What follows is a decades-long connection defined by longing, distance, and the soul-deep ache of the almost.
Can a current romance ever match the resonance of someone who speaks your heart’s native language? That’s the haunting question that lingers as Jo and Lauren find themselves again in 2003—older, bruised by toxic relationships, but still tethered by something true. And yes, they do earn their HEA in 2006—but not without the hard-won battles to live life on their terms, to fight for joy, and to claim the one thing that always eluded them: a place to be.
This is a book everyone should read. It offers powerful insight into Jo and Lauren’s lives and refuses to reduce "Love is Love" to a slogan or a bumper sticker. In this story, love is being, loving, and daring to imagine joy. And really—why should it ever be harder than that?
Thank you to She Writes Press, GetRed, and Kate Rocks for connecting me with this book. All thoughts on this book are my own
Though Jo and Lauren met by chance with a deadline on their day, their hope for a future refused to be framed as something fixed—what they longed for was something more, something all humans want... tomorrow.
A Place for Us is one of those rare books that lodges itself in your heart, making space for lives lived in the historical margins to shine proudly and unapologetically. Told in an intimate and emotionally rich voice, Patricia Greyhall chronicles the frustrations, resilience, and deep love of two women—Jo and Lauren—who must fight to be together, not only against the people in their immediate lives but also against the broader forces of bureaucracy, culture, and time.
Set against the backdrop of the late 20th century—after the watershed of Stonewall but long before full societal acceptance—this novel captures a period of both progress and constraint. The 1980s in particular were marked by growing visibility and painful resistance, and Greyhall weaves that complexity into Jo and Lauren’s journey with grace. Their love isn’t just a personal story—it’s shaped by the world in which they dared to live it. And their hope isn't framed as something radical, but something human.
Although the novel spans a wide arc of time, these years apart are far more than a frame—they allow readers to witness the depth of Jo and Lauren’s bond as it withstands distance, societal shifts, and personal trials. In parallel, the story traces the evolving arc of LGBTQ history, highlighting how both love and identity are shaped by changing landscapes. It’s a portrait not just of longing, but of endurance, quiet hope, and the belief that joy—however deferred—can still arrive.
Greyhall’s storytelling is undeniable, and her structural choices give Jo and Lauren’s relationship the full gravity of LGBTQ+ history across continents. Unlike many stories that remain rooted in the U.S., this novel moves through the UK, France, and Canada, offering an understated yet powerful reflection on national cultures and the quiet endurance of queer love. It’s not a polemic—it’s a portrait of two intelligent women navigating the world as it is, yearning for the simple, human right to love and live like everyone else.
Though the connection between Jo and Lauren is undeniably intimate, Greyhall handles their relationship with the emotional depth of classic women’s fiction—more lingering glance than open door. Their love unfolds with subtlety, giving space for readers of all kinds to feel the resonance without ever veering into graphic terrain. This novel also offers a gentle path for readers who may be new to LGBTQ+ stories—inviting them in not through confrontation, but through empathy, clarity, and the kind of intimacy that transcends identity.
This isn’t a romance in the traditional genre sense—it’s a decades-spanning emotional odyssey grounded in character and culture.
The story begins in a London pub in 1981, where Lauren and Jo meet—not with fireworks, but with a quiet, knowing. Lauren is still stepping into her identity; Jo, more secure in her own, carries the quiet confidence of lived experience. Their meeting carries a bittersweet immediacy—something glimmering and rare that must end, like the pub’s closing bell. What follows is a decades-long connection defined by longing, distance, and the soul-deep ache of the almost.
Can a current romance ever match the resonance of someone who speaks your heart’s native language? That’s the haunting question that lingers as Jo and Lauren find themselves again in 2003—older, bruised by toxic relationships, but still tethered by something true. And yes, they do earn their HEA in 2006—but not without the hard-won battles to live life on their terms, to fight for joy, and to claim the one thing that always eluded them: a place to be.
This is a book everyone should read. It offers powerful insight into Jo and Lauren’s lives and refuses to reduce "Love is Love" to a slogan or a bumper sticker. In this story, love is being, loving, and daring to imagine joy. And really—why should it ever be harder than that?
Thank you to She Writes Press, GetRed, and Kate Rocks for connecting me with this book. All thoughts on this book are my own