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Puck
In this A Midsummer Night's Dream-inspired romcom, Puck is a reality show producer and agent of chaos with a talent for bringing people together . . . and tearing them apart.
Meet Puck: the nonbinary, thirty-year-old mastermind behind "Homewreckers", a dating show that puts troubled couples through hell—with a little help from their exes. Used to being the one pulling the strings, it shocks Puck when their life undergoes a plot twist of its own and their college roommate Mia announces her engagement to her ex’s best friend, Damon. Having only recently broken up with longtime-boyfriend Zander, and never having had much in common with Damon (who lovesick Lena has always pined after), Mia’s news leaves her friend group reeling—and Puck’s mind whirling.
When they arrive for a week of wedding festivities at an upscale resort in the Appalachian forest, Puck immediately sees that Mia’s marriage will lead to misery, and takes it upon themself to save their friends by rearranging the couples—without anyone finding out. But as Puck comes up against a type-A maid of honor hell-bent on making this wedding happen, it becomes clear that they will have to deliver the greatest stunt of their career. If only they can take their eyes off the bridesmaid. After all, the course of true love never did run smooth…
Written with Samantha Allen’s signature charm, wit, and an irresistible dose of Shakespearian mischief, Puck is the ultimate romcom for our chaotic era, and a celebration of the friendships that carry us through it all.
Meet Puck: the nonbinary, thirty-year-old mastermind behind "Homewreckers", a dating show that puts troubled couples through hell—with a little help from their exes. Used to being the one pulling the strings, it shocks Puck when their life undergoes a plot twist of its own and their college roommate Mia announces her engagement to her ex’s best friend, Damon. Having only recently broken up with longtime-boyfriend Zander, and never having had much in common with Damon (who lovesick Lena has always pined after), Mia’s news leaves her friend group reeling—and Puck’s mind whirling.
When they arrive for a week of wedding festivities at an upscale resort in the Appalachian forest, Puck immediately sees that Mia’s marriage will lead to misery, and takes it upon themself to save their friends by rearranging the couples—without anyone finding out. But as Puck comes up against a type-A maid of honor hell-bent on making this wedding happen, it becomes clear that they will have to deliver the greatest stunt of their career. If only they can take their eyes off the bridesmaid. After all, the course of true love never did run smooth…
Written with Samantha Allen’s signature charm, wit, and an irresistible dose of Shakespearian mischief, Puck is the ultimate romcom for our chaotic era, and a celebration of the friendships that carry us through it all.
288 pages, Paperback
First published June 2, 2026
About the author
Samantha Allen
7 books575 followersSamantha Allen is the author of the horror comedy novel PATRICIA WANTS TO CUDDLE (Zando, 2022) and the Lambda Literary Award finalist REAL QUEER AMERICA: LGBT STORIES FROM RED STATES (Little, Brown, 2019). Her other publications include LOVE & ESTROGEN (Amazon Original Stories, 2018) and M to WT(F) (Audible Originals, 2020).
She is a GLAAD Award-winning journalist with bylines in The New York Times, CNN, Rolling Stone, and more. She received her Ph.D. in Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies from Emory University in 2015.
She is a GLAAD Award-winning journalist with bylines in The New York Times, CNN, Rolling Stone, and more. She received her Ph.D. in Women's, Gender, and Sexuality Studies from Emory University in 2015.
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Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Puck exists in the grey zone of character-centric stories that have nowhere else to go but the romance genre, but is so light on the actual romance that it feels wildly out of place (to the point it feels like the Puck/Robyn romance was added later as a way to market this book as romance).
Ignoring the genre part, Puck is a great book; the voice is strong and witty, Puck is a great character, the Shakespearean plot is fun to follow, and you do want Puck's friend to cancel her wedding, consequences be damned. And that makes it so hard to rate. The book does throw romantic elements in the first act that makes you think the plot will balance it out with the rest of the plot but by the second act it's clear that the main "romance" is secondary to anything else. In fact, the romantic development that takes place throughout the entirety of Puck would correspond to the first act of a more romance-centric novel.
For as great of a character Puck is, with a biting voice, Robyn the "love interest" is a bit of a nothingburger in comparison. In fact, Puck's university friends Mia, Zander, Damon and Lena feel more developed throughout the story than Robyn who still end up very much of a mystery by the end of the story. And it's such a shame because her initial chemistry and connection with Puck is so strong and entertaining that it's frustrating and disappointing to see it never fully come to completion. Robyn is a femme dominant bottom with OCD who looks straight and is very type A about this wedding happening and: that's it. Do we explore how her "straight" presentation relates to her living in a homophobic environment? it gets one mention. Do we explore her coming out to the whole bridal party? No, of course not. Why is the ending the way it is? I don't know.
Ignoring the genre part, Puck is a great book; the voice is strong and witty, Puck is a great character, the Shakespearean plot is fun to follow, and you do want Puck's friend to cancel her wedding, consequences be damned. And that makes it so hard to rate. The book does throw romantic elements in the first act that makes you think the plot will balance it out with the rest of the plot but by the second act it's clear that the main "romance" is secondary to anything else. In fact, the romantic development that takes place throughout the entirety of Puck would correspond to the first act of a more romance-centric novel.
For as great of a character Puck is, with a biting voice, Robyn the "love interest" is a bit of a nothingburger in comparison. In fact, Puck's university friends Mia, Zander, Damon and Lena feel more developed throughout the story than Robyn who still end up very much of a mystery by the end of the story. And it's such a shame because her initial chemistry and connection with Puck is so strong and entertaining that it's frustrating and disappointing to see it never fully come to completion. Robyn is a femme dominant bottom with OCD who looks straight and is very type A about this wedding happening and: that's it. Do we explore how her "straight" presentation relates to her living in a homophobic environment? it gets one mention. Do we explore her coming out to the whole bridal party? No, of course not. Why is the ending the way it is? I don't know.
June 3, 2026
✨𝒜𝑅𝒞 & 𝒜𝐿𝒞 𝑅𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓌✨
📖🎧: Puck
🎙️: Dani Martineck
Puck may be the mastermind behind a hit reality TV show about troubled couples, but when their college friends reunite for a wedding Puck thinks is a mistake, they cannot resist meddling and orchestrating the ultimate couples rearrangement. But to do so, they must outmaneuver the bossy and frustratingly alluring maid of honor they can’t stop thinking about.
Tropes:
🎙️Single narrator
🎬Non-binary producer MC
🫂Forced proximity
💍Wedding
🏫College friends
🎭Midsummer Night's Dream-inspired romcom
🌶️: open door
The single narrator infuses emotional depth and nuance into the personalities of each character and story. The moments of levity, drama, and heartache are brilliantly portrayed.
Throughout the tale, the author explores Puck’s college relationships and current work life while peeling back the layers of Puck’s own insecurities.
In this Shakespearean reimagining, the author balances poignant introspection with a humorous narrative on human nature, intimacy, and friendship.
So thankful to @PRHAudio for the #free audio listening copy and to Zando for the advanced reader copy! This is my honest and voluntary review. #PRHAudioPartner
📖🎧: Puck
🎙️: Dani Martineck
Puck may be the mastermind behind a hit reality TV show about troubled couples, but when their college friends reunite for a wedding Puck thinks is a mistake, they cannot resist meddling and orchestrating the ultimate couples rearrangement. But to do so, they must outmaneuver the bossy and frustratingly alluring maid of honor they can’t stop thinking about.
Tropes:
🎙️Single narrator
🎬Non-binary producer MC
🫂Forced proximity
💍Wedding
🏫College friends
🎭Midsummer Night's Dream-inspired romcom
🌶️: open door
The single narrator infuses emotional depth and nuance into the personalities of each character and story. The moments of levity, drama, and heartache are brilliantly portrayed.
Throughout the tale, the author explores Puck’s college relationships and current work life while peeling back the layers of Puck’s own insecurities.
In this Shakespearean reimagining, the author balances poignant introspection with a humorous narrative on human nature, intimacy, and friendship.
So thankful to @PRHAudio for the #free audio listening copy and to Zando for the advanced reader copy! This is my honest and voluntary review. #PRHAudioPartner
March 18, 2026
Thank you to NetGalley and Zando books for the eARC copy!
Uh, yeah, the queer romcom loosely based on a midsummer night’s dream gets 5 stars from me. Duh. As usual, Samantha Allen writes exactly what I needed to read before I realized I needed it. Hurt my own feelings a few times relating too hard to Puck but I loved getting to know the cast of characters. In the acknowledgments, Samantha thanks someone who she calls a “Puck apologist” and you can add me to that list. I love that little gay nerd.
Uh, yeah, the queer romcom loosely based on a midsummer night’s dream gets 5 stars from me. Duh. As usual, Samantha Allen writes exactly what I needed to read before I realized I needed it. Hurt my own feelings a few times relating too hard to Puck but I loved getting to know the cast of characters. In the acknowledgments, Samantha thanks someone who she calls a “Puck apologist” and you can add me to that list. I love that little gay nerd.
Want to Read
March 21, 2026Just got an ARC of this in the mail and it looks super fun.
July 5, 2026
In this modern retelling of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, trickster Puck is now a nonbinary reality producer ruining everyday love on the hit show, Homewreckers. When Puck’s college roommate, Mia announces she’s getting married to Damon, her ex-boyfriend’s best friend, Puck assumes the role of meddler and decides it may be best to break the couple up so Mia can end up back with her ex. As they start to scheme, womanizer Puck doesn’t see the freight train that is domineering, and possibly queer, Robyn, enter the plan that was being so carefully plotted. As the week long festivities continue, chaos is brewing, showers are being shared and secrets aren’t staying hidden. There was so much chaos ensuing with all of these characters and Puck continued to remain the route of most of it. Not the biggest fan of the ending as Robyn coming to Puck and declaring her love for her was not on my bingo card and then to not like actively engage in a friendship with the friends she screwed over only to get like a glimpse into their lives and everything is fine. I wasn’t the biggest fan of any of these characters except Lena, she’s an angel and can do no wrong. Would I recommend this book? Maybe. But it’s getting listed as quick and irritating. The cover slaps and the spice is kinda sorta spicy, that’s all it’s really got going for it.
June 3, 2026
Puck is a hard book for me to rate, mostly because it's mismarketed. For a book so character centric, with such little romance or romantic development, I do not understand why this is in the romance genre when it should be contemporary fiction. I went into this in the mood for a romance and after three attempts, I finally got 40% in and realized I had to change my expectations for the book or it'd be a very miserable reading experience. Once I did that, it was quite fun!
Puck as a character is unlikeable, annoying, the epitome of the white queer who has not done any introspection or study of oppression/oppressive systems past the ones they face. They're self centered and in need of a reality check but they also want the woman they consider their best friend to be happy and believe breaking up her wedding is the way to guarantee that, this is the selling point. You can't help but root for Puck in all their messiness and even when you want to look away, you keep reading. It was quite entertaining.
The romance again was practically non existent. We know next to nothing about Robyn, the love interest. Hell I think The Emory Crew were even more developed than she was .
Overall this was a very interesting read, thank you Netgalley and Zando for the arc in exchange for an honest review.
Puck as a character is unlikeable, annoying, the epitome of the white queer who has not done any introspection or study of oppression/oppressive systems past the ones they face. They're self centered and in need of a reality check but they also want the woman they consider their best friend to be happy and believe breaking up her wedding is the way to guarantee that, this is the selling point. You can't help but root for Puck in all their messiness and even when you want to look away, you keep reading. It was quite entertaining.
The romance again was practically non existent. We know next to nothing about Robyn, the love interest. Hell I think The Emory Crew were even more developed than she was .
Overall this was a very interesting read, thank you Netgalley and Zando for the arc in exchange for an honest review.
June 24, 2026
3-3.5 ⭐️’s. I definitely have mixed feelings on this
hearing that the premise of this was about a host of a reality tv dating show, I expected it to be in more of an episode format. I wasn’t expecting the plot to be more about the host attending the wedding of their friend and her future husband who they don’t think she should be getting married to. the actual reality tv show itself has no storyline
the spice is this book is what really started to change my opinion because the visuals were so bad. “kissing and swallowing her spit instead of letting it sit on their face” almost sent me over the edge. there were a few other spicy scenes that almost started to ruin the book for me too
BUT then the wedding drama and found family saved it. I loved how the ending was wrapped up and the overall message of how imperfect everyone was and how they were all doing their best, even if that meant making mistakes
hearing that the premise of this was about a host of a reality tv dating show, I expected it to be in more of an episode format. I wasn’t expecting the plot to be more about the host attending the wedding of their friend and her future husband who they don’t think she should be getting married to. the actual reality tv show itself has no storyline
the spice is this book is what really started to change my opinion because the visuals were so bad. “kissing and swallowing her spit instead of letting it sit on their face” almost sent me over the edge. there were a few other spicy scenes that almost started to ruin the book for me too
BUT then the wedding drama and found family saved it. I loved how the ending was wrapped up and the overall message of how imperfect everyone was and how they were all doing their best, even if that meant making mistakes
June 9, 2026
Thank you to NetGalley, Zando, and Samantha Allen for an ARC in exchange for my honest review.
🌈🌈HAPPY PRIDE!!!🌈🌈
If you haven't read Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I absolutely recommend it, and if you hate reading old English poetry, watch the 1999 movie, because it was incredibly faithful and just a freaking delight!
THE SOURCE PLOT
Idiot-proof summary
THIS PLOT
Puck, Mia, Lena, Zander, and Damon have been friends since college. The MC, Puck, is a producer for a Temptation Island-style reality TV show. Their best friend Mia has a long, tumultuous romantic history with Zander, but a year ago, they broke it off for real when Zander's drug and alcohol use got to be too much for her to handle. When the story starts, Puck receives an invitation to the wedding of Mia and Damon, of all people. Puck just knows Mia and Zander belong together - especially now that Zander has gotten sober - and Mia and Damon are all wrong for each other. Moreover, Lena has had a crush on Damon for almost a decade. As a reality show producer, Puck just knows they can engineer this situation so that everyone ends up with who they should be with. They see no problem with treating their friends like pawns. They also never bargained for Mia's new friend Robyn, who seems hell-bent on this wedding going exactly as planned.
I was able to start writing this review before I was even done reading because it became IMMEDIATELY apparent that while A Midsummer Night's Dream is my absolute favorite Shakespeare play, associating it with "real" people and trying to perform the same mischief felt immediately cruel and unusual. Because this book is set in modern times with modern people who have real world problems, I was able to identify with them and their relationship woes and to see Puck's machinations (and knowing that Puck is not, in fact, a mythological sprite) made me sad for Mia, Zander, Lena, and Damon that they would have a 'friend' who would disregard their feelings as they do. I'm not demonizing Puck; I recognized that this was the point of the story and I figured at some point, this story's very human Puck would get their comeuppance and learn a valuable lesson about treating their friends like pawns. If that was indeed the way it ended, I had immediate respect for the author for settin' 'em up, as long as they knocked 'em down. I also recognize that Puck in the Shakespeare play was causing mischief for mischief's sake, while this story's Puck genuinely thought they were... helping???
The point is, the whole assuming-they-know-better-than-everyone-else got old really quickly, so I wanted this story to end differently than the Shakespeare play. Turns out, while the middle dragged a bit because I was kinda' grossed out by Puck's meddling, and while the lessons were incredibly obvious and heavy-handed when they finally landed, the ending was incredibly cathartic.
Moreover, I felt this book did a better job than some veteran authors do on reflections on friendship. Also, I actually really liked the addition of the relationship between Puck and Robyn, because if it was just a story about Puck trying to control their friends, I think I would have hated them. The relationship with Robyn humanized them and also helped them to identify holes in their own life that caused them to want to control others'.
THAT SAID!!! Don't think I didn't notice that every bit of Puck's development was spurred on by others and not Puck themself. I didn't dislike this book, but I don't particularly recommend it and I don't plan on ever reading it again. Without the other characters, I really... really don't like Puck. And that is a shame, because Puck is the best character of the original play. But the other characters in both the play and the book also make this story what it is, so 4 stars is still very much deserved.
🌈🌈HAPPY PRIDE!!!🌈🌈
If you haven't read Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I absolutely recommend it, and if you hate reading old English poetry, watch the 1999 movie, because it was incredibly faithful and just a freaking delight!
THE SOURCE PLOT
Idiot-proof summary
THIS PLOT
Puck, Mia, Lena, Zander, and Damon have been friends since college. The MC, Puck, is a producer for a Temptation Island-style reality TV show. Their best friend Mia has a long, tumultuous romantic history with Zander, but a year ago, they broke it off for real when Zander's drug and alcohol use got to be too much for her to handle. When the story starts, Puck receives an invitation to the wedding of Mia and Damon, of all people. Puck just knows Mia and Zander belong together - especially now that Zander has gotten sober - and Mia and Damon are all wrong for each other. Moreover, Lena has had a crush on Damon for almost a decade. As a reality show producer, Puck just knows they can engineer this situation so that everyone ends up with who they should be with. They see no problem with treating their friends like pawns. They also never bargained for Mia's new friend Robyn, who seems hell-bent on this wedding going exactly as planned.
I was able to start writing this review before I was even done reading because it became IMMEDIATELY apparent that while A Midsummer Night's Dream is my absolute favorite Shakespeare play, associating it with "real" people and trying to perform the same mischief felt immediately cruel and unusual. Because this book is set in modern times with modern people who have real world problems, I was able to identify with them and their relationship woes and to see Puck's machinations (and knowing that Puck is not, in fact, a mythological sprite) made me sad for Mia, Zander, Lena, and Damon that they would have a 'friend' who would disregard their feelings as they do. I'm not demonizing Puck; I recognized that this was the point of the story and I figured at some point, this story's very human Puck would get their comeuppance and learn a valuable lesson about treating their friends like pawns. If that was indeed the way it ended, I had immediate respect for the author for settin' 'em up, as long as they knocked 'em down. I also recognize that Puck in the Shakespeare play was causing mischief for mischief's sake, while this story's Puck genuinely thought they were... helping???
The point is, the whole assuming-they-know-better-than-everyone-else got old really quickly, so I wanted this story to end differently than the Shakespeare play. Turns out, while the middle dragged a bit because I was kinda' grossed out by Puck's meddling, and while the lessons were incredibly obvious and heavy-handed when they finally landed, the ending was incredibly cathartic.
Moreover, I felt this book did a better job than some veteran authors do on reflections on friendship. Also, I actually really liked the addition of the relationship between Puck and Robyn, because if it was just a story about Puck trying to control their friends, I think I would have hated them. The relationship with Robyn humanized them and also helped them to identify holes in their own life that caused them to want to control others'.
THAT SAID!!! Don't think I didn't notice that every bit of Puck's development was spurred on by others and not Puck themself. I didn't dislike this book, but I don't particularly recommend it and I don't plan on ever reading it again. Without the other characters, I really... really don't like Puck. And that is a shame, because Puck is the best character of the original play. But the other characters in both the play and the book also make this story what it is, so 4 stars is still very much deserved.
June 22, 2026
I can't believe this is my first book by Samantha! The audiobook was so much fun and truly flew by for me. I absolutely loved Puck and their whole group of college friends. Sure, things went from bad to worse due to some meddling but they eventually all made up.
Did I think Puck maybe shouldn't have meddled? Sure, who wouldn't? And yet, their producer brain had me so invested in the hot mess that was about to come my way. Things got chaotic and messy fast. It's probably why this book was so addicting and I couldn't press the pause button once. The ending was really good too and I'm glad that Puck has Robyn (and vice versa).
Did I think Puck maybe shouldn't have meddled? Sure, who wouldn't? And yet, their producer brain had me so invested in the hot mess that was about to come my way. Things got chaotic and messy fast. It's probably why this book was so addicting and I couldn't press the pause button once. The ending was really good too and I'm glad that Puck has Robyn (and vice versa).
June 30, 2026
It was fun! Lost me here and there, but in general a good read.
June 8, 2026
Received an advanced copy of this book from NetGalley.
Overall I enjoyed the story, it is an example of non-binary representation I would suggest to my older students potentially, but it missed quite a few marks for me to love it. The plot flowed well and is structured well and I give Samantha Allen props for that as that is one of the most difficult parts of story telling, but Puck is the worst main character and we don't even get to really see their resolution. Their character arc is sort of "they suck" and then "they suck less" after being an egregiously bad person and friend, by the time they come to the realization that they need to change their behavior the book is basically over. Also queerness is sort of brushed to the side even though the MC is vocally queer. That was incredibly confusing and disappointing.
This story stars Puck, a gay non-binary reality TV show producer who hasn't grown up since leaving college. They are invited to their college best friend's wedding to another college friend (I actually live for the kind of incestuous friend group because my friend group is like that too. Everyone has sort of dated everyone) but Mia, college best friend, is having cold feet. Puck sees this and orchestrates elaborate plans to break Mia and her betrothed, Damon, up so they both are stuck in a loveless marriage. Puck takes it way too far and ends up hurting everyone in the process.
During their elaborate scheming, they strike up and unlikely romance with straight girl Robyn (sexuality unknown) and their spice scenes are... kind of cringe. I also am a general hater on whirlwind romances, that is my own problem, though. Their coupling is not the center of the story but it's made to be like it is. Everyone always lives happily ever after in rom-coms but we don't really see the resolutions or the work put in after Puck messes everything up. It's everyone else seeking Puck out to force them into making amends which I thought was weird.
I also want to touch on how queerness is handled in this book, it's always great to see nonbinary gay rep but there isn't any commentary on it, just Puck acting like they're the only queer person and the only nonbinary person to exist. Like they set the standard for both of those things. We also don't get any information on Robyn and you can't be critical of how society sees queerness and then not have commentary on it. The only commentary we get is Puck complaining about gendered stuff which truly isn't the case. As a nonbinary lesbian, I would have liked to see more of a conversation about being an afab nonbinary gay person. A little conversation about being gender queer past complaining and assuming the worst in everyone. Everyone is so scared of the word lesbian and it makes me upset. Robyn's sexuality is brushed off and Puck keeps referring to her as a formerly straight presenting person or commenting on how her outfits scream straight girl and it's tired. It's weird having a book about queerness be centered around the heterosexual relationship between assumed straight people and not the queer relationship or talking more about queerness. I've seen novels do an amazing job at normalizing queerness in the fictional world where it's just a normal thing BUT there is still conversation about queerness not just who the MC likes to f**k or their surprise at the straight looking girl wanting to take things to third base. There is also a distinct lack of racial diversity among the characters.
Thank you to Net galley and the publisher for the e-arc, this is my honest review.
Overall I enjoyed the story, it is an example of non-binary representation I would suggest to my older students potentially, but it missed quite a few marks for me to love it. The plot flowed well and is structured well and I give Samantha Allen props for that as that is one of the most difficult parts of story telling, but Puck is the worst main character and we don't even get to really see their resolution. Their character arc is sort of "they suck" and then "they suck less" after being an egregiously bad person and friend, by the time they come to the realization that they need to change their behavior the book is basically over. Also queerness is sort of brushed to the side even though the MC is vocally queer. That was incredibly confusing and disappointing.
This story stars Puck, a gay non-binary reality TV show producer who hasn't grown up since leaving college. They are invited to their college best friend's wedding to another college friend (I actually live for the kind of incestuous friend group because my friend group is like that too. Everyone has sort of dated everyone) but Mia, college best friend, is having cold feet. Puck sees this and orchestrates elaborate plans to break Mia and her betrothed, Damon, up so they both are stuck in a loveless marriage. Puck takes it way too far and ends up hurting everyone in the process.
During their elaborate scheming, they strike up and unlikely romance with straight girl Robyn (sexuality unknown) and their spice scenes are... kind of cringe. I also am a general hater on whirlwind romances, that is my own problem, though. Their coupling is not the center of the story but it's made to be like it is. Everyone always lives happily ever after in rom-coms but we don't really see the resolutions or the work put in after Puck messes everything up. It's everyone else seeking Puck out to force them into making amends which I thought was weird.
I also want to touch on how queerness is handled in this book, it's always great to see nonbinary gay rep but there isn't any commentary on it, just Puck acting like they're the only queer person and the only nonbinary person to exist. Like they set the standard for both of those things. We also don't get any information on Robyn and you can't be critical of how society sees queerness and then not have commentary on it. The only commentary we get is Puck complaining about gendered stuff which truly isn't the case. As a nonbinary lesbian, I would have liked to see more of a conversation about being an afab nonbinary gay person. A little conversation about being gender queer past complaining and assuming the worst in everyone. Everyone is so scared of the word lesbian and it makes me upset. Robyn's sexuality is brushed off and Puck keeps referring to her as a formerly straight presenting person or commenting on how her outfits scream straight girl and it's tired. It's weird having a book about queerness be centered around the heterosexual relationship between assumed straight people and not the queer relationship or talking more about queerness. I've seen novels do an amazing job at normalizing queerness in the fictional world where it's just a normal thing BUT there is still conversation about queerness not just who the MC likes to f**k or their surprise at the straight looking girl wanting to take things to third base. There is also a distinct lack of racial diversity among the characters.
Thank you to Net galley and the publisher for the e-arc, this is my honest review.
June 12, 2026
Fun short read that did leave me wanting a big more.
Puck was a great main character and while I did not always like their antics, their position in the drama and romance worked well.
Wished there would have been more “trying to break up the marriage” plans and hijacks. While I appreciated a quick read, the story could have been a bit more fleshed out, for instance by using some of the secondary characters more.
Really liked the cover!
And love a good Shakespeare retelling.
Shoutout to the AO3 reference!!
Puck was a great main character and while I did not always like their antics, their position in the drama and romance worked well.
Wished there would have been more “trying to break up the marriage” plans and hijacks. While I appreciated a quick read, the story could have been a bit more fleshed out, for instance by using some of the secondary characters more.
Really liked the cover!
And love a good Shakespeare retelling.
Shoutout to the AO3 reference!!
March 26, 2026
Thank you to Zando for this eARC! A nonbinary Puck who runs a reality tv show and breaks up a friends doomed wedding and screws like a champion. I am absolutely head over heals for this Puck, I want to BE this Puck.
April 2, 2026
I was disappointed with this one. I really liked “Patricia Wants to Cuddle,” and I was hoping this one would be equally fun, but it felt really basic and juvenile in comparison. So much of the plot felt really obvious, which I could have happily forgiven if any other aspect of the story had had any charm to speak of, but Puck was absolutely insufferable and everyone else felt like a stock character. Unfortunately, this one just wasn’t for me… 2.5 rounded down. I read an arc from NetGalley.
April 26, 2026
2.5 ⭐️
Ughh
I wanted to like this book so bad, I was excited about the premise. When I found out won a free copy to review I was so excited! But almost immediately I HATTTTEEEDDD the main character.
Puck is a judgy, terrible friend who makes everything about themselves. They act like some gender warrior but treat the contestants on their reality show like garbage, stereotype all of their friends as “hot blond women” and “mascots for straight girls”, objectify Robyn over and over, even in their apology to Robyn only compliments her physical attributes, and babbles on about their ability to “convert straight women”.
My favorite character was Robyn who told Puck exactly what I was thinking in the sauna.
“You need to get over how radical you think you are.”
But even her character was ruined by how easily she forgave Puck.
Puck was so unserious and it made the romance fall flat. When Robyn shares something meaningful, Puck doesn’t give anything back. Honestly was way more invested in Damon and Lena than Puck and Robyn. Their entire relationship was them insulting each other in public and then hooking up and then all of a sudden they are in love. Yeah okay. Maybe because there were too many relationships in this story, none of them got the proper arc that they needed to be fully explored.
Did I mention that Puck is an absolute asshole?
Yeah.
The reason this book gets 2.5 stars is because the drama is mildly entertaining, much like a trashy reality tv show that you can’t stop clicking the watch next button on. The banter has some of the wittiness I usually enjoy in romance. Overall it was an easy, quick paced read. Lastly, I did fall in love a little with Zander & Mia / Lena & Damon.
This is my honest review of an ARC received from the publisher.
Ughh
I wanted to like this book so bad, I was excited about the premise. When I found out won a free copy to review I was so excited! But almost immediately I HATTTTEEEDDD the main character.
Puck is a judgy, terrible friend who makes everything about themselves. They act like some gender warrior but treat the contestants on their reality show like garbage, stereotype all of their friends as “hot blond women” and “mascots for straight girls”, objectify Robyn over and over, even in their apology to Robyn only compliments her physical attributes, and babbles on about their ability to “convert straight women”.
My favorite character was Robyn who told Puck exactly what I was thinking in the sauna.
“You need to get over how radical you think you are.”
But even her character was ruined by how easily she forgave Puck.
Puck was so unserious and it made the romance fall flat. When Robyn shares something meaningful, Puck doesn’t give anything back. Honestly was way more invested in Damon and Lena than Puck and Robyn. Their entire relationship was them insulting each other in public and then hooking up and then all of a sudden they are in love. Yeah okay. Maybe because there were too many relationships in this story, none of them got the proper arc that they needed to be fully explored.
Did I mention that Puck is an absolute asshole?
Yeah.
The reason this book gets 2.5 stars is because the drama is mildly entertaining, much like a trashy reality tv show that you can’t stop clicking the watch next button on. The banter has some of the wittiness I usually enjoy in romance. Overall it was an easy, quick paced read. Lastly, I did fall in love a little with Zander & Mia / Lena & Damon.
This is my honest review of an ARC received from the publisher.
June 5, 2026
3.5 stars even tho i loove both samantha allen (whose previous two books were spectacular imo) and midsummer night's dream (especially character puck of course) which this is based on this for me just had not nearly enough shenanigans and overall was not as funny as expected. still what better way to start pride month than with messy af enby wrecking havoc amongst the straights? you tell me
June 24, 2026
Samantha Allen’s Puck was such a breath of fresh air. It is the kind of novel that feels playful without being slight, romantic without becoming predictable, and magical without losing sight of the deeply human feelings underneath all that enchantment. I went into it expecting a loose, queer reimagining of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but what I found was something much more interested in building its own atmosphere and emotional logic than simply checking off familiar Shakespearean references. The result is a story that feels bright, strange, tender, sexy, and just a little dangerous—the exact combination I want from a book about fairies, desire, and people trying to decide who they are allowed to be.
The title immediately points readers toward Shakespeare’s Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, the mischievous fairy servant of Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In the play, Puck is responsible for much of the chaos: they use the love potion that tangles the four Athenian lovers together, transform Bottom into an ass, and generally treat the human world as a place ripe for disruption. Shakespeare’s Puck is funny, slippery, and frequently cruel in the casual way of folklore creatures who do not experience human consequences in the same way humans do. They are a trickster, a shapeshifter, and a liminal figure—someone who belongs to the woods, to dreams, to performance, and to the unstable line between delight and humiliation.
Allen clearly understands why Puck has endured for centuries. Shakespeare did not invent the character from nothing; Puck draws from English folklore surrounding Robin Goodfellow, as well as Celtic traditions of the púca, a supernatural being known for shapeshifting, mischief, and leading travelers astray. Over time, though, Puck has been interpreted in wildly different ways. Sometimes they are portrayed as a childlike fairy, all green tights and harmless pranks. Sometimes they are sinister, animalistic, sexual, or even frightening. They have become a symbol of theatricality itself, especially because Puck closes Shakespeare’s play by suggesting that if the audience disliked what they saw, they should think of it all as a dream. Puck is both inside the story and somehow standing outside it, winking at us.
That sense of being between categories makes Puck such an exciting character to reinterpret as non-binary. Allen’s Puck is not non-binary merely as a modern update applied to an old text. It feels natural to the character’s mythology. Puck has always been difficult to pin down: human and not human, funny and threatening, servant and instigator, masculine in some interpretations and far more fluid in others. Allen takes that openness and lets it become central to the novel’s emotional texture. Puck’s identity is not treated as a gimmick or a lesson; it is part of how they move through the world, how others perceive them, and how they understand their own power and vulnerability.
The plot is loosely inspired by A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but readers should not expect a direct retelling. The bones of Shakespeare are there: a magical world brushing up against a more ordinary one, tangled attraction, the possibility that desire can be manipulated or misunderstood, and a setting that feels like it exists just outside the boundaries of reality. But Allen is much more interested in the emotional possibilities of the premise than in reproducing Shakespeare’s exact structure. This is not a book where you spend the entire time matching each character to Hermia, Helena, Lysander, Demetrius, Titania, or Bottom. Instead, it uses the play as a kind of glittering foundation and builds something new on top of it.
What I loved most was how alive the setting feels. Allen creates an atmosphere that is dreamy but not vague. There is a lushness to the world, a sense that every room, party, conversation, and encounter might tip into something magical. The novel understands that fairy stories work best when beauty and unease exist side by side. The world of Puck is inviting, but it never feels entirely safe. That tension gives the romance and the character dynamics real stakes. It is easy to be seduced by magic; it is much harder to know what it costs.
The characters are where the book truly shines. I loved them. Not in the detached “these are well-written characters” way, although they absolutely are, but in the more immediate sense that I wanted to stay in their company. Allen gives them humor, awkwardness, desire, insecurity, and contradictions. They make choices that feel emotionally understandable even when they are messy. There is a generosity in the way the novel lets people be complicated without turning them into villains for having needs or fears.
Puck, especially, is such a compelling center for the story. They have the charisma readers expect from the name, but Allen does not allow them to become only an archetype. There is mischief, yes, and there is theatricality, but there is also a real interior life. The novel asks what it means to be someone who is always expected to be entertaining, elusive, or magical. What happens when the person everyone thinks is untouchable wants to be known? That question gives the book much of its heart.
The supporting characters also bring so much warmth to the story. Their relationships with Puck feel lived-in, full of history and friction and affection. I appreciated that the novel does not flatten romance into a simple question of who ends up with whom. Attraction matters, obviously, but so do friendship, trust, self-definition, and the fear of being seen too clearly. The emotional arcs are satisfying because they are not only about getting what you want. They are about recognizing what you need.
There is also something genuinely refreshing about the book’s queerness. Puck does not feel like it is trying to justify its existence or explain every aspect of itself to an imagined skeptical reader. It simply lets queer characters have magic, romance, messiness, joy, and desire. That confidence is part of why the novel feels so freeing. Allen is writing in conversation with Shakespeare, folklore, fantasy, and romance, but the book never feels trapped by any of those traditions.
If A Midsummer Night’s Dream is about the madness of love and the strange freedom of the forest, Puck is interested in what happens when that freedom becomes personal. It takes the old trickster figure and gives them room to be more than a prankster or a symbol. This is a novel full of atmosphere, charm, and emotional depth, and I had such a good time reading it. It feels like a book made for anyone who has ever wanted fairy tales to be queerer, more romantic, more complicated, and a little less interested in returning everyone safely to normal by the end.
The title immediately points readers toward Shakespeare’s Puck, or Robin Goodfellow, the mischievous fairy servant of Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In the play, Puck is responsible for much of the chaos: they use the love potion that tangles the four Athenian lovers together, transform Bottom into an ass, and generally treat the human world as a place ripe for disruption. Shakespeare’s Puck is funny, slippery, and frequently cruel in the casual way of folklore creatures who do not experience human consequences in the same way humans do. They are a trickster, a shapeshifter, and a liminal figure—someone who belongs to the woods, to dreams, to performance, and to the unstable line between delight and humiliation.
Allen clearly understands why Puck has endured for centuries. Shakespeare did not invent the character from nothing; Puck draws from English folklore surrounding Robin Goodfellow, as well as Celtic traditions of the púca, a supernatural being known for shapeshifting, mischief, and leading travelers astray. Over time, though, Puck has been interpreted in wildly different ways. Sometimes they are portrayed as a childlike fairy, all green tights and harmless pranks. Sometimes they are sinister, animalistic, sexual, or even frightening. They have become a symbol of theatricality itself, especially because Puck closes Shakespeare’s play by suggesting that if the audience disliked what they saw, they should think of it all as a dream. Puck is both inside the story and somehow standing outside it, winking at us.
That sense of being between categories makes Puck such an exciting character to reinterpret as non-binary. Allen’s Puck is not non-binary merely as a modern update applied to an old text. It feels natural to the character’s mythology. Puck has always been difficult to pin down: human and not human, funny and threatening, servant and instigator, masculine in some interpretations and far more fluid in others. Allen takes that openness and lets it become central to the novel’s emotional texture. Puck’s identity is not treated as a gimmick or a lesson; it is part of how they move through the world, how others perceive them, and how they understand their own power and vulnerability.
The plot is loosely inspired by A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but readers should not expect a direct retelling. The bones of Shakespeare are there: a magical world brushing up against a more ordinary one, tangled attraction, the possibility that desire can be manipulated or misunderstood, and a setting that feels like it exists just outside the boundaries of reality. But Allen is much more interested in the emotional possibilities of the premise than in reproducing Shakespeare’s exact structure. This is not a book where you spend the entire time matching each character to Hermia, Helena, Lysander, Demetrius, Titania, or Bottom. Instead, it uses the play as a kind of glittering foundation and builds something new on top of it.
What I loved most was how alive the setting feels. Allen creates an atmosphere that is dreamy but not vague. There is a lushness to the world, a sense that every room, party, conversation, and encounter might tip into something magical. The novel understands that fairy stories work best when beauty and unease exist side by side. The world of Puck is inviting, but it never feels entirely safe. That tension gives the romance and the character dynamics real stakes. It is easy to be seduced by magic; it is much harder to know what it costs.
The characters are where the book truly shines. I loved them. Not in the detached “these are well-written characters” way, although they absolutely are, but in the more immediate sense that I wanted to stay in their company. Allen gives them humor, awkwardness, desire, insecurity, and contradictions. They make choices that feel emotionally understandable even when they are messy. There is a generosity in the way the novel lets people be complicated without turning them into villains for having needs or fears.
Puck, especially, is such a compelling center for the story. They have the charisma readers expect from the name, but Allen does not allow them to become only an archetype. There is mischief, yes, and there is theatricality, but there is also a real interior life. The novel asks what it means to be someone who is always expected to be entertaining, elusive, or magical. What happens when the person everyone thinks is untouchable wants to be known? That question gives the book much of its heart.
The supporting characters also bring so much warmth to the story. Their relationships with Puck feel lived-in, full of history and friction and affection. I appreciated that the novel does not flatten romance into a simple question of who ends up with whom. Attraction matters, obviously, but so do friendship, trust, self-definition, and the fear of being seen too clearly. The emotional arcs are satisfying because they are not only about getting what you want. They are about recognizing what you need.
There is also something genuinely refreshing about the book’s queerness. Puck does not feel like it is trying to justify its existence or explain every aspect of itself to an imagined skeptical reader. It simply lets queer characters have magic, romance, messiness, joy, and desire. That confidence is part of why the novel feels so freeing. Allen is writing in conversation with Shakespeare, folklore, fantasy, and romance, but the book never feels trapped by any of those traditions.
If A Midsummer Night’s Dream is about the madness of love and the strange freedom of the forest, Puck is interested in what happens when that freedom becomes personal. It takes the old trickster figure and gives them room to be more than a prankster or a symbol. This is a novel full of atmosphere, charm, and emotional depth, and I had such a good time reading it. It feels like a book made for anyone who has ever wanted fairy tales to be queerer, more romantic, more complicated, and a little less interested in returning everyone safely to normal by the end.
June 4, 2026
3.5 stars - A delightfully chaotic exploration of friendship and learning to support those you love even if they're making dubious choices.
And alright, sometimes you do have to intervene.
I adored Puck's wit and snark, and paired with their position in the reality TV world - which has created a lens through which they tend to view relationships - they were a wonderfully messy character to follow on this wedding weekend adventure. Yet, as much as I loved watching the wedding party stumble through the festivities, no thanks to Puck, I think my favorite part of the novel was actually the relationship between Puck and the bride, Mia. What started as the bond of randomly placed college roommates has grown and strengthened over the years, and despite Puck's efforts to sabotage Mia's wedding, it's clear their scheming stems from love.
Overall this was a quick and entertaining book filled with a whole lot of flawed characters just trying to get through life. Recommend for a fun summer read!
Thank you to Zando and NetGalley for the eARC! All thoughts and opinions are my own.
And alright, sometimes you do have to intervene.
I adored Puck's wit and snark, and paired with their position in the reality TV world - which has created a lens through which they tend to view relationships - they were a wonderfully messy character to follow on this wedding weekend adventure. Yet, as much as I loved watching the wedding party stumble through the festivities, no thanks to Puck, I think my favorite part of the novel was actually the relationship between Puck and the bride, Mia. What started as the bond of randomly placed college roommates has grown and strengthened over the years, and despite Puck's efforts to sabotage Mia's wedding, it's clear their scheming stems from love.
Overall this was a quick and entertaining book filled with a whole lot of flawed characters just trying to get through life. Recommend for a fun summer read!
Thank you to Zando and NetGalley for the eARC! All thoughts and opinions are my own.
June 9, 2026
4.5/5 Stars
Thank you to Zando for access to the e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I was not expecting this one to punch me in the gut as hard as it did. I could relate to Puck more than I thought I would. Honestly I even related to other characters, like Mia, Robyn, and Zander as well. While this book had me laughing a lot, it also had me crying at parts too. A lot happens in a short period of time, but it genuinely does not feel rushed at all. The pacing was perfect, as well as the variety of characters who each add a layer to the novel. The self-reflection towards the end is real and raw. I also genuinely enjoyed how this book ended. This book has a lot of characters with complex experiences, but they all fit together pretty perfectly. I genuinely loved this book, and I do recommend giving it a read!
Thank you to Zando for access to the e-ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I was not expecting this one to punch me in the gut as hard as it did. I could relate to Puck more than I thought I would. Honestly I even related to other characters, like Mia, Robyn, and Zander as well. While this book had me laughing a lot, it also had me crying at parts too. A lot happens in a short period of time, but it genuinely does not feel rushed at all. The pacing was perfect, as well as the variety of characters who each add a layer to the novel. The self-reflection towards the end is real and raw. I also genuinely enjoyed how this book ended. This book has a lot of characters with complex experiences, but they all fit together pretty perfectly. I genuinely loved this book, and I do recommend giving it a read!
June 10, 2026
This was so unbelievably gay and funny.
Like I could VISUALIZE Puck rubbing their hands in mischief as they paired up their straight friends, but also be so caught off guard with their own relationship.
Puck is really witty, and definitely steals the show for the most part. Although I was kinda bummed that the other main characters felt a bit side lined save for Mia and Robyn. It made emotional impact feel more like a comedic car crash than a devastating dissolve of trust and friendship.
But I do love how the end game couple had an Elden Ring themed wedding.
And, I would say this is definitely one of the better Shakespeare retelling that I have experienced.
Overall, a really fun read.
3.75/5 stars
Like I could VISUALIZE Puck rubbing their hands in mischief as they paired up their straight friends, but also be so caught off guard with their own relationship.
Puck is really witty, and definitely steals the show for the most part. Although I was kinda bummed that the other main characters felt a bit side lined save for Mia and Robyn. It made emotional impact feel more like a comedic car crash than a devastating dissolve of trust and friendship.
But I do love how the end game couple had an Elden Ring themed wedding.
And, I would say this is definitely one of the better Shakespeare retelling that I have experienced.
Overall, a really fun read.
3.75/5 stars
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 27, 2026
Thank you so so much @zandoprojects for the advanced copy to review! First of all, I freaking *ADORE* @neebess books, and I was so incredibly stoked to receive an early copy of this one. I devoured Patricia and Roland, and Puck wormed their way right into my heart!
I literally could not put this book down last night and finished it in one sitting. Puck was so funny and their plan was SO zany. I spent the whole time flipping pages wondering when the other shoe would drop! Having them be a reality producer and trying to manipulate real life was a great premise and truly it delivered.
Found family is so important for queer people and I really identified with so many internal thoughts that Puck had. They were also incredibly lonely and also felt that their job was the only thing they had in their life.. which is def relatable.
I loved the wedding setting. I loved every day and how I never knew what was going to happen. I had the best time reading this book and can’t wait for everyone to get their hands on it.
I literally could not put this book down last night and finished it in one sitting. Puck was so funny and their plan was SO zany. I spent the whole time flipping pages wondering when the other shoe would drop! Having them be a reality producer and trying to manipulate real life was a great premise and truly it delivered.
Found family is so important for queer people and I really identified with so many internal thoughts that Puck had. They were also incredibly lonely and also felt that their job was the only thing they had in their life.. which is def relatable.
I loved the wedding setting. I loved every day and how I never knew what was going to happen. I had the best time reading this book and can’t wait for everyone to get their hands on it.
June 10, 2026
Thank you NetGalley, Zando, and Samantha Allen for the eARC copy of Puck!
I’ve been in a little bit of a reading rut, but Puck pulled me in really easily. I’m often a fool for a modernized Shakespeare comedy retelling, and this was no exception. The references to Midsumer Nights Dream are clever enough without being completely over the top. I thought more time would be focused on the reality show that Puck works for but I’m glad that “Home Wreckers” functioned more as reference for the actions Puck was taking. I enjoyed the writing style and much needed humor.
I’ve been in a little bit of a reading rut, but Puck pulled me in really easily. I’m often a fool for a modernized Shakespeare comedy retelling, and this was no exception. The references to Midsumer Nights Dream are clever enough without being completely over the top. I thought more time would be focused on the reality show that Puck works for but I’m glad that “Home Wreckers” functioned more as reference for the actions Puck was taking. I enjoyed the writing style and much needed humor.
June 12, 2026
I had high hopes for this book but sadly it did not exceed my expectations. The blurb sounded good, the cover looked spectacular and promising, but the main character made me cringe, and the story was not very exciting.
So sadly, this book wasn't my cup of tea.
Thank you Netgalley for the ARC.
Release date: June 2nd
So sadly, this book wasn't my cup of tea.
Thank you Netgalley for the ARC.
Release date: June 2nd
July 10, 2026
This was all around just a fun and light read! Puck tries to direct their friend’s lives just like they do at their reality tv job. It makes the whole book almost like a reality tv show. It’s not a deep, emotional read but it is a lot of fun with all the antics Puck gets up to while they and their friends learn more about themselves in the process.
Thank you to Zando for the gifted copy of this book.
Thank you to Zando for the gifted copy of this book.
June 5, 2026
3.5 stars rounded up.
Sort of a lighter, queerer little sibling of The Wedding People.
This was a fun queer romcom. Our NBMC was a bit monstrous at times, and the ending was a bit cringe-worthy, but I had a great time!
Sort of a lighter, queerer little sibling of The Wedding People.
This was a fun queer romcom. Our NBMC was a bit monstrous at times, and the ending was a bit cringe-worthy, but I had a great time!
June 15, 2026
These are the types of retellings I have a major soft spot for. It meshed really well with the original source material, and while it could be a little awkward sometimes with the plot, so is fucking life.
Read
July 10, 2026This was a lot of fun, comedy hijinks but with some real-feeling emotions behind them. The romance felt a little tacked on to a story that is at heart about friendship (and especially odd to insert for the Puck character in a Midsummer Night's Dream riff) but I liked Puck's interactions with the love interest a lot as a catalyst for their own personal growth.
June 27, 2026
lovely and so fun!!
Did Not Finish
June 29, 2026really excited for this concept but had to DNF at 30%
i think Puck may just be an unlikable asshole (and not in a fun way) & i didn’t care to force the read just to finish
boooooo sad
i think Puck may just be an unlikable asshole (and not in a fun way) & i didn’t care to force the read just to finish
boooooo sad
Review of advance copy received from NetGalley
Bring the Ex, Add a Resort, Stir in a Maid of Honor, and Absolutely Do Not Let the Reality Producer Touch the Seating Chart
In “Puck,” Samantha Allen turns destination-wedding chaos into a clever, sexy, and increasingly painful study of control freakery, class aspiration, and what happens when a professional meddler mistakes herself for fate.
By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | April 14th, 2026
Puck sits at the Grove between cool dusk and false warmth, already reading the room as though it belongs to them.
In Samantha Allen’s “Puck,” the fatal error is not that the title character mistakes a wedding for a reality show. It is that they no longer believe there is much difference between reading a room and owning it. The novel opens with the clean click of a trap already baited: a nonbinary reality-TV producer arrives at a friend’s destination wedding, clocks the bride, the groom, the ex, the money, the choreography of compulsory joy, and decides – with the serene vanity of someone long rewarded for meddling in other people’s feelings – that this marriage has to be stopped. First it plays like a joke. Then it nicks an artery. Puck does not merely meddle. They produce.
That distinction is the argument the whole book keeps pressing on. Puck works on “Homewreckers,” a reality show where betrayal becomes content, and they arrive at the Athenian, an Appalachian resort polished to a devotional gleam, already trained to turn feeling into footage. Puck’s producer habits are not imaginary. They can spot weak chemistry, displaced longing, boredom, vanity, panic, and self-deception at indecent speed. More dangerously, they have learned to prize legibility over privacy. The moment they see Mia preparing to marry Damon McLeod – a former college nerd now lacquered into the kind of Southern heir whose family can rent out a mountain resort for a week and call it intimacy – they conclude, correctly as it happens, that Damon is the wrong man. Also on hand are Zander, Mia’s newly sober ex and old wound; Lena, who once carried a long, sad torch for Damon; and Robyn, the maid of honor, who first appears to Puck as a form of weaponized competence: all itinerary, posture, and expensive self-command.
Allen lets the machinery hum before she jams it. The week arrives like a prop closet unpacked by a deranged event stylist – croquet, spa appointments, party-bus games, a fake scavenger hunt, cucumber water used tactically, and enough hallway traffic to keep every confession half endangered. No one stays long where the wedding first puts them. The welcome drinks barely have time to sweat. Puck begins nudging people into place as naturally as some hosts top off wineglasses. At first Allen lets all this play like sport: tactical, clipped, nearly harmless. The accelerant is the narration. Puck’s voice is fast, filthy, needle-sharp, and mean in the fun way until it isn’t. Allen’s sentences dart, hook, double back. Her jokes arrive with the speed of gossip and the confidence of someone who has been rewarded, professionally and socially, for saying the impolite thing first. Wedding language, queer shorthand, producer jargon, class irritation, and erotic appraisal share the same air without colliding.
On the cropped lawn, leisure hardens into geometry: people arranged like pieces, flirtation and class performance disguised as play.
This is one of the book’s great strengths. Allen understands that comic velocity can do more than entertain. It can also conceal. Puck’s wit keeps turning surveillance into charm, interference into style, trespass into sparkle. What keeps “Puck” from toppling over into pure stylish sabotage is Allen’s refusal to flatter the protagonist’s insight. Puck is often right. That is the trap. They are right that Mia is drifting toward a life that will make her smaller. They are right that the wedding has become a pageant of wealth, logistics, and borrowed aspiration. They are right that Damon, for all his decency, is not the life Mia thinks she is choosing. Allen’s braver move is to insist that seeing clearly gives Puck no right to take over. Diagnosis is not permission. Being perceptive does not confer jurisdiction. Puck’s gifts harden, scene by scene, into a claim on other people’s choices.
Here the champagne goes flat. Puck does not merely bring opinions to the wedding. They bring work reflexes. Every conversation becomes blocking. Every coincidence becomes a missed beat. Every friend becomes, if only for a moment, a cast member in the stronger narrative Puck thinks they can see. Allen is very good on the nasty little rush of feeling indispensable, the private conviction that no one else understands the room as well as you do and therefore no one else should be trusted to leave it alone. Puck never experiences themself as monstrous. They experience themself as incisive, necessary, loving. The deeper cut the novel makes is in showing how quickly those self-descriptions curdle once they are paired with charm, authority, and a reflex to stage-manage other people’s lives.
Robyn is the one person in the novel who can make Puck miss a beat. She begins as Puck’s natural enemy: organized, beautiful, fiercely protective of Mia, and endowed with the kind of practical competence that makes Puck feel, for once, second-rate. Then Allen does something riskier than it first looks. She turns antagonism into sex, and sex into evidence. Robyn could easily have remained a gimmick – hot mean maid of honor, queer chaos accelerant – but Allen makes her the character who most completely short-circuits Puck’s method. Around Robyn, desire makes Puck stupid. That is useful. The sex is not there to accessorize anything. It redistributes control. It reveals who needs command, who wants relief from it, and who can only be honest once desire has knocked them sideways. Later, when Robyn speaks openly about her OCD and the strategies that keep panic from running her life, the book pulls off one of its slyest reversals. The woman Puck had filed under “conventionally polished tormentor” becomes one of the few people in the novel who actually understands the psychic cost of trying to outthink catastrophe.
Heat, hostility, and desire compress the air until confrontation itself becomes a form of foreplay.
Mia, though, is where the book stops indulging Puck. For a long stretch she risks becoming what everyone else wants her to be: object of rescue, repository of projection, bride to be interpreted by committee. Allen corrects that sharply. The novel does not truly break open at the kiss between Mia and Zander, though that matters, or even at the fake scavenger hunt Puck designs to trap them in private. It breaks when Robyn finds the memo – that damning slip of paper, those ugly abbreviations reducing living people to initials and function – and carries it into the bridal suite. In an instant the whole scheme becomes visible. What had felt, inside Puck’s head, like heightened perception now looks exactly as it is: a person turning the people they love into movable pieces.
By still water and failing light, the novel’s old love begins to remember its own dangerous fluency.
From there, charm stops doing cleanup. Mia’s confrontation with Puck is the clearest statement of Allen’s purpose, and one of the strongest passages in the book. Mia does not mainly accuse Puck of drawing the wrong conclusion about Damon. She accuses Puck of stealing her agency. She is not Puck’s doll. Without that sentence, “Puck” would remain a sharp comedy about a meddler who happened to be correct. With it, the novel becomes accountable to its own intelligence.
Damon, importantly, is never made monstrous simply to clear Puck’s conscience. He is too half-formed, too recognizably ordinary for that. Allen grants him more dignity than Puck’s story about him would. He is a man trying on adulthood like a suit chosen by someone richer and older. He is “blending in,” trying to inhabit a version of success and masculinity that never quite sits naturally on him. That matters. This is not a novel about escaping obvious evil. It is about the subtler disaster of drifting into a life that flatters your fear of instability more than your actual self.
After exposure, the room keeps the score: beauty half-finished, ceremony interrupted, control scattered across the floor.
The formal design deepens this argument rather than merely holding it in place. The day markers, the schedules, the event sequence, the shrinking windows for intervention – all of it flatters Puck’s belief that every emotional problem can still be solved if the right bodies can be moved into the right corners of the room before the next speech, the next fitting, the next ceremony. Here, timing becomes a counterfeit wisdom. The structure itself enacts the fantasy of control before dismantling it. Allen wants aftermath too. She wants to know whether humiliation can become conduct, whether being exposed can actually change a person, whether shame can be more than theatrical punishment.
The book’s most underdiscussed strength may be its treatment of work. “Puck” is not only about romance, desire, queerness, or even friendship. It is about professional deformation. Puck has spent so long converting other people’s pain into usable narrative that they no longer know how to stand near feeling without formatting it. That is why the novel feels so current without lapsing into topical grandstanding. Too many people now bring work habits into bed, friendship, and family: optimization, signal-reading, emotional triage, the conversion of ambiguity into strategy. Puck has simply taken those habits to a recognizable grotesque. Allen sees the loneliness inside that competence. She sees how easy it is to confuse being useful with being known, and how friendships can starve while everyone involved insists they are still intact.
This is also where the novel’s emotional architecture becomes more impressive than its premise first suggests. On the surface, the plot promises romantic chaos, erotic misdirection, and wedding-week farce. Beneath that, Allen is building a story about people who have mistaken performance for selfhood. Mia performs social ascent. Damon performs adult masculinity. Robyn performs mastery to keep terror at bay. Puck performs necessary chaos and calls it care. Even Lena, the book’s most apparently earnest character, has her own repertoire of self-protective scripts. What the novel keeps asking, in one register or another, is what remains of a person once the role stops working.
The prose is well suited to that project. Allen writes in sentences that are usually brisk rather than ornate, but she knows how to lengthen them when self-justification needs room to show its seams. Her diction is contemporary without sounding disposable. She has a gift for the exact bitchy flourish, the line that feels tossed off but is doing serious tonal labor. Better still, she knows how to let that wit sour. The language itself becomes evidence of how Puck survives: by speed, by reframing, by saying the sharp thing before anyone can say it to them. That is why the eventual quieting of the prose, especially around Robyn’s vulnerability and Mia’s anger, matters as much as it does.
Where Allen loosens her grip is in the smoothness of the late resolutions. After risking real wreckage, “Puck” grows more merciful than its middle sections lead one to expect. Damon and Lena, Mia and Zander, Robyn and Puck, Puck’s altered relation to work – all of it makes sense, and the specificity helps. Damon and Lena’s later “Elden Ring” wedding in a bird sanctuary is odd enough to feel chosen rather than gift-wrapped. Still, the final distribution of happiness is a shade too tidy. The pairings settle with slightly more grace than the harsher middle has prepared us for. A second, smaller limitation is that the first-person design means the people around Puck sometimes begin as caricatures in Puck’s private taxonomy before the novel restores their full dignity. Damon is the clearest case. He grows more alive once the book stops seeing only what Puck thinks he signifies.
Still, the reprieve is not exactly wrapped in tulle. The return to the “Homewreckers” set is where the novel’s judgment bites hardest. Puck comes back to work no longer able to arrange betrayal with the same clean professional cheer, and when Robyn storms onto the set demanding to know whether they were ever going to call her, the power line flips. The producer is now the spectacle. It is a neat reversal, and a deserved one. The scene risks a touch of overresolution, but Allen earns much of it by forcing Puck to say, in public and in the language of their own self-exposure, what their life has become.
Only a couple of comparisons deserve house room here, and they do so because they illuminate rather than decorate. William Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” obviously haunts the setup, though Allen swaps moonlit enchantment for burner phones, itineraries, and a producer’s feel for blocking. I also thought of Caroline O’Donoghue’s “The Rachel Incident,” not because the books resemble each other sentence by sentence, but because both understand that friendship can become possessive while still feeling like love from the inside.
For me, “Puck” settles at 87/100, or 4/5 stars – too sly, quick, funny, and ethically awake to shrug off, slightly over-straightened by the end to call flawless. What kept catching under the skin was the sight of someone who has spent years moving other people into frame discovering how frightening it is to step into the frame without a call sheet.
Early thumbnail searches for the right emotional geometry – solitude, window light, and the distance between reading a room and trying to run it.
Border tests turn wedding formality, hotel architecture, and producer logic into a frame that quietly suggests control.
The graphite skeleton of the Grove scene lays down the bar, the window, and the poised stillness before atmosphere enters.
A working palette of bruised lavenders, false warmths, and dark anchors establishes the painting’s emotional weather.
Before color, the image is a problem of light – cool exterior distance against the seductive hush of interior glow.
The first diluted washes begin to stain the page with luxury, dread, and the uneasy calm before intervention.
A close study of posture, table edge, and glass tests how little detail is needed when silhouette and negative space are doing the feeling.
All watercolor illustrations by Demetris Papadimitropoulos.
In “Puck,” Samantha Allen turns destination-wedding chaos into a clever, sexy, and increasingly painful study of control freakery, class aspiration, and what happens when a professional meddler mistakes herself for fate.
By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | April 14th, 2026
Puck sits at the Grove between cool dusk and false warmth, already reading the room as though it belongs to them.
In Samantha Allen’s “Puck,” the fatal error is not that the title character mistakes a wedding for a reality show. It is that they no longer believe there is much difference between reading a room and owning it. The novel opens with the clean click of a trap already baited: a nonbinary reality-TV producer arrives at a friend’s destination wedding, clocks the bride, the groom, the ex, the money, the choreography of compulsory joy, and decides – with the serene vanity of someone long rewarded for meddling in other people’s feelings – that this marriage has to be stopped. First it plays like a joke. Then it nicks an artery. Puck does not merely meddle. They produce.
That distinction is the argument the whole book keeps pressing on. Puck works on “Homewreckers,” a reality show where betrayal becomes content, and they arrive at the Athenian, an Appalachian resort polished to a devotional gleam, already trained to turn feeling into footage. Puck’s producer habits are not imaginary. They can spot weak chemistry, displaced longing, boredom, vanity, panic, and self-deception at indecent speed. More dangerously, they have learned to prize legibility over privacy. The moment they see Mia preparing to marry Damon McLeod – a former college nerd now lacquered into the kind of Southern heir whose family can rent out a mountain resort for a week and call it intimacy – they conclude, correctly as it happens, that Damon is the wrong man. Also on hand are Zander, Mia’s newly sober ex and old wound; Lena, who once carried a long, sad torch for Damon; and Robyn, the maid of honor, who first appears to Puck as a form of weaponized competence: all itinerary, posture, and expensive self-command.
Allen lets the machinery hum before she jams it. The week arrives like a prop closet unpacked by a deranged event stylist – croquet, spa appointments, party-bus games, a fake scavenger hunt, cucumber water used tactically, and enough hallway traffic to keep every confession half endangered. No one stays long where the wedding first puts them. The welcome drinks barely have time to sweat. Puck begins nudging people into place as naturally as some hosts top off wineglasses. At first Allen lets all this play like sport: tactical, clipped, nearly harmless. The accelerant is the narration. Puck’s voice is fast, filthy, needle-sharp, and mean in the fun way until it isn’t. Allen’s sentences dart, hook, double back. Her jokes arrive with the speed of gossip and the confidence of someone who has been rewarded, professionally and socially, for saying the impolite thing first. Wedding language, queer shorthand, producer jargon, class irritation, and erotic appraisal share the same air without colliding.
On the cropped lawn, leisure hardens into geometry: people arranged like pieces, flirtation and class performance disguised as play.
This is one of the book’s great strengths. Allen understands that comic velocity can do more than entertain. It can also conceal. Puck’s wit keeps turning surveillance into charm, interference into style, trespass into sparkle. What keeps “Puck” from toppling over into pure stylish sabotage is Allen’s refusal to flatter the protagonist’s insight. Puck is often right. That is the trap. They are right that Mia is drifting toward a life that will make her smaller. They are right that the wedding has become a pageant of wealth, logistics, and borrowed aspiration. They are right that Damon, for all his decency, is not the life Mia thinks she is choosing. Allen’s braver move is to insist that seeing clearly gives Puck no right to take over. Diagnosis is not permission. Being perceptive does not confer jurisdiction. Puck’s gifts harden, scene by scene, into a claim on other people’s choices.
Here the champagne goes flat. Puck does not merely bring opinions to the wedding. They bring work reflexes. Every conversation becomes blocking. Every coincidence becomes a missed beat. Every friend becomes, if only for a moment, a cast member in the stronger narrative Puck thinks they can see. Allen is very good on the nasty little rush of feeling indispensable, the private conviction that no one else understands the room as well as you do and therefore no one else should be trusted to leave it alone. Puck never experiences themself as monstrous. They experience themself as incisive, necessary, loving. The deeper cut the novel makes is in showing how quickly those self-descriptions curdle once they are paired with charm, authority, and a reflex to stage-manage other people’s lives.
Robyn is the one person in the novel who can make Puck miss a beat. She begins as Puck’s natural enemy: organized, beautiful, fiercely protective of Mia, and endowed with the kind of practical competence that makes Puck feel, for once, second-rate. Then Allen does something riskier than it first looks. She turns antagonism into sex, and sex into evidence. Robyn could easily have remained a gimmick – hot mean maid of honor, queer chaos accelerant – but Allen makes her the character who most completely short-circuits Puck’s method. Around Robyn, desire makes Puck stupid. That is useful. The sex is not there to accessorize anything. It redistributes control. It reveals who needs command, who wants relief from it, and who can only be honest once desire has knocked them sideways. Later, when Robyn speaks openly about her OCD and the strategies that keep panic from running her life, the book pulls off one of its slyest reversals. The woman Puck had filed under “conventionally polished tormentor” becomes one of the few people in the novel who actually understands the psychic cost of trying to outthink catastrophe.
Heat, hostility, and desire compress the air until confrontation itself becomes a form of foreplay.
Mia, though, is where the book stops indulging Puck. For a long stretch she risks becoming what everyone else wants her to be: object of rescue, repository of projection, bride to be interpreted by committee. Allen corrects that sharply. The novel does not truly break open at the kiss between Mia and Zander, though that matters, or even at the fake scavenger hunt Puck designs to trap them in private. It breaks when Robyn finds the memo – that damning slip of paper, those ugly abbreviations reducing living people to initials and function – and carries it into the bridal suite. In an instant the whole scheme becomes visible. What had felt, inside Puck’s head, like heightened perception now looks exactly as it is: a person turning the people they love into movable pieces.
By still water and failing light, the novel’s old love begins to remember its own dangerous fluency.
From there, charm stops doing cleanup. Mia’s confrontation with Puck is the clearest statement of Allen’s purpose, and one of the strongest passages in the book. Mia does not mainly accuse Puck of drawing the wrong conclusion about Damon. She accuses Puck of stealing her agency. She is not Puck’s doll. Without that sentence, “Puck” would remain a sharp comedy about a meddler who happened to be correct. With it, the novel becomes accountable to its own intelligence.
Damon, importantly, is never made monstrous simply to clear Puck’s conscience. He is too half-formed, too recognizably ordinary for that. Allen grants him more dignity than Puck’s story about him would. He is a man trying on adulthood like a suit chosen by someone richer and older. He is “blending in,” trying to inhabit a version of success and masculinity that never quite sits naturally on him. That matters. This is not a novel about escaping obvious evil. It is about the subtler disaster of drifting into a life that flatters your fear of instability more than your actual self.
After exposure, the room keeps the score: beauty half-finished, ceremony interrupted, control scattered across the floor.
The formal design deepens this argument rather than merely holding it in place. The day markers, the schedules, the event sequence, the shrinking windows for intervention – all of it flatters Puck’s belief that every emotional problem can still be solved if the right bodies can be moved into the right corners of the room before the next speech, the next fitting, the next ceremony. Here, timing becomes a counterfeit wisdom. The structure itself enacts the fantasy of control before dismantling it. Allen wants aftermath too. She wants to know whether humiliation can become conduct, whether being exposed can actually change a person, whether shame can be more than theatrical punishment.
The book’s most underdiscussed strength may be its treatment of work. “Puck” is not only about romance, desire, queerness, or even friendship. It is about professional deformation. Puck has spent so long converting other people’s pain into usable narrative that they no longer know how to stand near feeling without formatting it. That is why the novel feels so current without lapsing into topical grandstanding. Too many people now bring work habits into bed, friendship, and family: optimization, signal-reading, emotional triage, the conversion of ambiguity into strategy. Puck has simply taken those habits to a recognizable grotesque. Allen sees the loneliness inside that competence. She sees how easy it is to confuse being useful with being known, and how friendships can starve while everyone involved insists they are still intact.
This is also where the novel’s emotional architecture becomes more impressive than its premise first suggests. On the surface, the plot promises romantic chaos, erotic misdirection, and wedding-week farce. Beneath that, Allen is building a story about people who have mistaken performance for selfhood. Mia performs social ascent. Damon performs adult masculinity. Robyn performs mastery to keep terror at bay. Puck performs necessary chaos and calls it care. Even Lena, the book’s most apparently earnest character, has her own repertoire of self-protective scripts. What the novel keeps asking, in one register or another, is what remains of a person once the role stops working.
The prose is well suited to that project. Allen writes in sentences that are usually brisk rather than ornate, but she knows how to lengthen them when self-justification needs room to show its seams. Her diction is contemporary without sounding disposable. She has a gift for the exact bitchy flourish, the line that feels tossed off but is doing serious tonal labor. Better still, she knows how to let that wit sour. The language itself becomes evidence of how Puck survives: by speed, by reframing, by saying the sharp thing before anyone can say it to them. That is why the eventual quieting of the prose, especially around Robyn’s vulnerability and Mia’s anger, matters as much as it does.
Where Allen loosens her grip is in the smoothness of the late resolutions. After risking real wreckage, “Puck” grows more merciful than its middle sections lead one to expect. Damon and Lena, Mia and Zander, Robyn and Puck, Puck’s altered relation to work – all of it makes sense, and the specificity helps. Damon and Lena’s later “Elden Ring” wedding in a bird sanctuary is odd enough to feel chosen rather than gift-wrapped. Still, the final distribution of happiness is a shade too tidy. The pairings settle with slightly more grace than the harsher middle has prepared us for. A second, smaller limitation is that the first-person design means the people around Puck sometimes begin as caricatures in Puck’s private taxonomy before the novel restores their full dignity. Damon is the clearest case. He grows more alive once the book stops seeing only what Puck thinks he signifies.
Still, the reprieve is not exactly wrapped in tulle. The return to the “Homewreckers” set is where the novel’s judgment bites hardest. Puck comes back to work no longer able to arrange betrayal with the same clean professional cheer, and when Robyn storms onto the set demanding to know whether they were ever going to call her, the power line flips. The producer is now the spectacle. It is a neat reversal, and a deserved one. The scene risks a touch of overresolution, but Allen earns much of it by forcing Puck to say, in public and in the language of their own self-exposure, what their life has become.
Only a couple of comparisons deserve house room here, and they do so because they illuminate rather than decorate. William Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” obviously haunts the setup, though Allen swaps moonlit enchantment for burner phones, itineraries, and a producer’s feel for blocking. I also thought of Caroline O’Donoghue’s “The Rachel Incident,” not because the books resemble each other sentence by sentence, but because both understand that friendship can become possessive while still feeling like love from the inside.
For me, “Puck” settles at 87/100, or 4/5 stars – too sly, quick, funny, and ethically awake to shrug off, slightly over-straightened by the end to call flawless. What kept catching under the skin was the sight of someone who has spent years moving other people into frame discovering how frightening it is to step into the frame without a call sheet.
Early thumbnail searches for the right emotional geometry – solitude, window light, and the distance between reading a room and trying to run it.
Border tests turn wedding formality, hotel architecture, and producer logic into a frame that quietly suggests control.
The graphite skeleton of the Grove scene lays down the bar, the window, and the poised stillness before atmosphere enters.
A working palette of bruised lavenders, false warmths, and dark anchors establishes the painting’s emotional weather.
Before color, the image is a problem of light – cool exterior distance against the seductive hush of interior glow.
The first diluted washes begin to stain the page with luxury, dread, and the uneasy calm before intervention.
A close study of posture, table edge, and glass tests how little detail is needed when silhouette and negative space are doing the feeling.
All watercolor illustrations by Demetris Papadimitropoulos.
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