I picked up *When We Believed in Mermaids* on a rainy afternoon, and within pages, I was completely immersed. Barbara O’Neal’s writing is like a warm hug—lyrical, vivid, and deeply emotional. The way she paints scenes makes you feel the salt spray of New Zealand’s beaches or the weight of a sister’s guilt.

What struck me most was how real the characters felt. Kit’s grief and Josie’s secrets aren’t just plot devices; they’re raw, messy, and achingly human. I found myself laughing at their banter one moment and tearing up the next when buried truths surfaced. The alternating POVs kept me hooked—like peeling layers off an onion, each chapter revealed something new.

The book isn’t perfect (those hyper-detailed childhood flashbacks stretched believability), but its flaws fade against the backdrop of its strengths. As someone who usually avoids ‘women’s fiction,’ I was surprised by how much I adored this. It’s not just about romance; it’s about survival, forgiveness, and the messy bonds of family.

Pro tip: Read it near water. Whether it’s a bathtub or a beach, O’Neal’s oceanic metaphors hit harder with waves in earshot.