Book Title: How to Find Love in the Cereal Aisle
Author: Alissa DeRogatis
Publisher: Cosmo Reads
Publishing Date: August 2026
The novel follows Ainsley Green, a successful romance author whose belief in happily-ever-afters is shaken after a devastating breakup. Having always drawn inspiration from the real love stories around her, she’s suddenly expected to continue promoting romance novels while privately questioning whether she believes in love at all. The premise immediately places her in an emotionally interesting position, made even more uncomfortable by a near-public meltdown during a book tour stop.
She believed in love, in happy endings, in the idea that everything works out if you want it badly enough. But I don’t feel like her anymore. I feel like a shell of that girl.
Can you really orchestrate love in the cereal aisle?
At the suggestion of her longtime best friend, Lucas, Ainsley decides to seek inspiration from real life again by deliberately attempting to engineer meet-cutes. Those inevitable disasters become social media content. Alongside that, she’s trying to rediscover her identity outside her previous relationship, navigate a changing career, write another novel, build new friendships and slowly recognise that the relationship she’d convinced herself was healthy may never have been serving her in the first place. Individually, none of these storylines is weak. Together, however, they compete for attention.
The novel keeps opening new doors before it’s fully walked through the previous one, making it difficult to identify its emotional centre. Rather than building momentum, the constant shifts between plotlines make the first half feel surprisingly diffuse. Ironically, the strongest relationship in the novel is also the one that receives the least attention early on.
After a night of nerve-racking and unfamiliar territory, seeing him is exactly what I need—it’s familiar and safe, like returning to a well-worn novel when you need to escape reality.
Lucas and Ainsley’s friends-to-lovers arc works because it answers one of the biggest questions readers often have about this trope: If you’ve been best friends for years, why now? DeRogatis gives that transition genuine emotional logic. From the beginning, it’s clear these two know each other intimately, which is both why they could work now, but couldn’t work before. Ainsley understands Lucas’s instinct to avoid digging into difficult emotions, while Lucas understands Ainsley’s tendency to overthink and spiral. Their friendship already contains years of trust, shorthand conversations and unconditional support, making the eventual romantic shift feel earned rather than convenient.
An earned friends-to-lovers arc
Perhaps my favourite part of the novel is that Lucas doesn’t simply exist as someone waiting for Ainsley to notice him. By the time the story reaches its final act, he’s doing emotional work of his own, showing up for her in ways that naturally explain why these two belong together. Rather than relying on dramatic misunderstandings or manufactured third-act conflict, the novel lets years of friendship quietly solve the very problems that often make this trope difficult to believe.
From a structural perspective, the novel also handles its timeline surprisingly well. The movement between present-day scenes and memories of Ainsley’s relationship with her ex, Cole and her old group of friends, is clear and easy to follow. The flashbacks reveal information precisely when readers need it, creating anticipation without confusion. My frustration wasn’t with the flashbacks themselves. It was with how much narrative space they occupy.
He’s my best friend. This isn’t a love story. Not the kind with stolen glances and slow-burn kisses and a will they won’t they tension that ends in fireworks. This is comfort and familiarity in a way that feels leagues different from what I had with Cole.
By the time Lucas fully steps into the role of romantic lead, I’d already spent considerably more time understanding why Cole and Ainsley once worked than exploring why Lucas and Ainsley inevitably do. While those earlier memories effectively demonstrate the unhealthy dynamics Ainsley eventually learns to recognise, they linger long enough that the novel’s strongest relationship doesn’t truly begin until well into the second half.
And that’s when the book becomes significantly more enjoyable. Once Lucas moves from the margins to the centre, the pacing settles, the emotional stakes become clearer, and the story finally trusts its most compelling relationship to carry the narrative. The final act is genuinely satisfying because every emotional beat feels earned, not rushed.
I only wish the novel had reached that point sooner.
There is a thoughtful story here about choosing yourself before choosing someone else, recognising unhealthy love only in hindsight, and discovering that the relationships worth keeping are often the ones quietly cheering you on all along. I simply found myself wishing the novel had spent less time circling those ideas and more time letting its strongest romance shine.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing an advance review copy (ARC). All opinions expressed are my own.