DNF

This book sounded really great, but it wasn't. The writing style and grammar were so awful that I couldn't even get past the third chapter. I was even thinking it was AI at some points. This could actually be a good, decent book if you can look past the writing, but for me I couldn't look past it,

Too much telling, not enough showing. This book is wordy and full of descriptions. It feels like a rough first draft.

Liberty was whinny from page one, but the plot was compelling enough for me to keep reading. After she discovers the photos on her boyfriend's phone and dumps him, she sets out for a new position and ironically ends up at the app that ruined her relationship.

I couldn't take Liberty's personality past 15% of this book. Sadly a DNF.

Book review: A Lot to Unpack by Portia MacIntosh.
Thank you to Boldwood Books and NetGalley for my gifted ARC.

Sometimes you just need a book that feels like a warm hug—and A Lot to Unpack delivers that and then some, with extra sass, heart, and a couple of cocktails at 30,000 feet. Portia MacIntosh has this uncanny ability to make you laugh mid-cringe, root for two people who absolutely shouldn’t fall for each other, and somehow still sneak in a few vulnerable sucker punches along the way. This book is classic romcom chaos but with an emotional center that makes the whole ride worth it.

Liberty is one of those heroines who feels instantly familiar. She’s smart, snarky, self-sabotaging, and completely unsure how she’s ended up working for Matcher—the dating app responsible for the humiliating end of her last relationship. Turns out her charming, cheating ex was busy broadcasting intimate photos of himself like a one-man subscription service. So yeah, Liberty has trust issues. Men, dating, love—it’s all on ice. Until her new job starts sending her around the world, pretending to care about soulmates while mostly trying not to break down in airport bathrooms.

But just when Liberty thinks she’s mastered emotional detachment, in strolls Jordan—her infuriatingly handsome, frustratingly mysterious boss who seems to glide through life without breaking a sweat. Of course, her latest work assignment involves being glued to his side in New York under false pretenses. She’s sent to pull a sneaky little contract switcheroo without him noticing. What could go wrong? Just forced proximity, simmering tension, 2 a.m. hotel confessions, and a growing suspicion that maybe Jordan isn’t the smug playboy she thought he was. He might actually get her. And that’s a terrifying thought.

The banter in this book? Chef’s kiss. The kind of snappy, ping-pong rhythm that makes you forget you’re reading because it feels like eavesdropping on two very pretty, very confused people trying to outwit each other while secretly falling hard. Their chemistry simmers from the first eye roll. Every conversation feels like a dare. Every accidental touch? Charged. And while the romance builds slow, the payoff is worth it.

What sets this apart from other workplace or enemies-to-lovers romances is how real the emotional stakes feel. Liberty isn’t just quirky or clumsy for plot convenience—she’s dealing with very real fears about being hurt again, about being seen, about letting someone else carry some of her metaphorical luggage. Jordan, on the other hand, is not the cardboard-cutout dreamboat you expect from a romcom boss. He’s got layers. Baggage of his own. They’re both just trying to do their jobs, keep it together, and not fall apart—or fall in love—along the way.

I highlighted a dozen lines, but this one stopped me in my tracks: “If emotional baggage counted as luggage, I’d be over the airline limit.” It’s funny, sure, but also painfully