The Invisible Roommate

by Timothy Janovsky

Gerard Wells loves music but hates fame ―not ideal when he’s the youngest member of the chart-topping band of brothers, We the Wells. Cracking under the spotlight, Gerard runs away to a small, remote island in the middle of the Chesapeake Bay. There, he goes by “James” and takes up residence in a crumbling Victorian house on the island’s shrinking shoreline. Little does he know, he’s not the studio apartment’s only inhabitant…

Mysterious and moody Emory Griffin never planned to be a test subject for his own groundbreaking invisibility research. He also never planned on sharing a room with a world-famous pop star, but needs must when you’re an unemployed graduate school drop-out who’s wanted by the local police.

With nowhere else to turn, the unlikely pair agree to be temporary roommates. Their forced proximity and vulnerability lead to an unexpected romantic spark. As Halloween approaches, their secrets and feelings grow harder to keep hidden, testing the strength of their newfound bond. Could this be a love that neither of them saw coming or an experiment set to go horribly wrong?

Genres: Romance, LGBT, M M Romance, Fantasy, Queer, Contemporary, Adult

320 pages, Paperback

Expected publication September 29, 2026

Reviews

[Lisa]

This book is hard for me to review. To be totally honest, if this wasn’t an ARC, I probably would have DNFed. But I want to be fair, so I’m going to lay out my reasoning, then review the rest of the book as best I can.

The Invisible Roommate discusses religion in a way that I feel is harmful.

I want to make it clear that while I am not religious, I am always open to reading about literary characters’s personal beliefs, especially if it moves the plot and is incorporated into the story. In this case, Gerard is struggling with his sexuality and how it is looked on in the church, so it makes sense in that context. The church choir also becomes found family to Gerard, which is lovely.

My issue is the glossing over of very traumatic events by the local Priest. Burning women as witches is brought up, and explained away as those women being devil worshippers. In today’s climate, we are all aware of the witch hunts, and just how easily “difficult” women (and men) were found to be evil, based on nothing more than a mole or a birth mark or an ability to make poultices. Later in the book, a Saint is studied, and found to be not quite the good guy he is portrayed to be. The Priest’s answer is basically believe in God, he knows what he’s doing. Right, ok. Don’t worry about lives ruined along the way. Like what’s the point of bringing up these dark stains on Christianity if we are not going to call them out and learn from them?

Ok, so that aside, how did I like The Invisible Roommate?

As a light, fun romance, I think it works well. Be prepared to employ suspension of disbelief regarding the science aspects of the book, and just enjoy it for what it is.

Both of the MCs, Gerard and Emory, have POVs in the book, and their voices and personalities are distinct, with interesting backstories. I was rooting for them, all the way through. I want them to succeed, to realize their dreams and find happiness. Their character growth is nicely done, subtly built and believable.

I love the setting of Iping Island, and its cast of characters. Anytime Emory or Gerard interact with the island locals is a bright spot in the book.

The romance itself is very sweet. These two men find each other at exactly the right time. They help each other when they are at their lowest, and the love comes very naturally from mutual attraction and friendship.

The ending is also very sweet, and while it is maybe not totally believable in its bow-like perfection, the story is wrapped up nicely, with a cute HEA.

One thing that pulled me out of the story a few times is the over-descriptiveness, particularly of smells that sometimes don’t make sense, and don’t add to my mental picture of the characters or the setting. Two or three adjectives are not always necessary, and can actually detract from the depiction.

The Invisible Roommate comes out in September, just in time for spooky season. I think this will be a great fall read for people looking for a cute romance with a side of invisibility and found family. Just be aware going in that religion features heavily into the story.

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Griffin for providing the ARC of this book. This review is my honest and voluntary opinion.

[Eli Dhios]

sweet but the writing and the mcs where a bit annoying at times so i couldn't care for them. thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC!

[Kimberly]

I settled in with my coffee and Timothy Janovsky’s The Invisible Roommate, and before long I was sharing a tiny island apartment with a runaway pop star and a scientist who had quite literally disappeared. Thank you to St. Martin’s Griffin for the gifted copy. How could I resist forced proximity when one roommate cannot even be seen?

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Gerard Wells loves making music but has had enough of life as a member of a wildly successful band. He escapes to remote Iping Island, calls himself James, and rents a studio in a crumbling Victorian house. Unfortunately, no one mentions that the previous tenant never actually left.

Emory Griffin is a stubborn scientist whose invisibility experiment worked a little too well. He is secretly living in the apartment and not thrilled when Gerard arrives. Watching them negotiate food, privacy, sleeping arrangements, and one extremely unusual roommate agreement gave me some of my favorite moments.

The science requires a generous willingness to simply go with it. I decided not to ask too many questions about invisible anatomy before finishing my coffee, which was probably best for everyone. What mattered was the way these two slowly learned to see each other. Gerard wants relief from constantly being watched, while Emory wants someone to recognize his work and his worth. That contrast gave their romance more heart than I expected.

I enjoyed Gerard’s journey as a gay autistic man trying to separate his love of music and faith from the people who made both feel complicated. Religion has a large place in the story. Not every conversation worked for me, but I appreciated his difficult questions.

Emory frustrated me at first, but his history explained why trusting anyone felt dangerous. The island residents brought found-family warmth, while the autumn setting gave everything a cozy Halloween feeling. The ending wrapped things up rather neatly, but I still closed the book smiling.

What unusual forced-proximity setup has completely won you over?

#TheInvisibleRoommate #TimothyJanovsky #MMRomance #QueerRomance #FallReading #RomanceBooks #BookReview #Bookstagram

[Mylz Belanger]

The Invisible Roommate is a contemporary MM romance with a touch of magical realism. Gerard, an autistic international pop star overwhelmed by the pressures of touring and fame, escapes to a remote island in search of some much-needed peace. There, he discovers that his new rental comes with an unexpected roommate: Emory, a PhD student who accidentally made himself invisible with an experimental serum—and is now stuck that way.

This was such a beautiful book. What initially sounds like a silly and quirky premise turned out to be so much more meaningful than I expected. Both Gerard and Emory are incredibly vulnerable with each other, and I loved how their relationship allowed us to slowly get to know them on a much deeper level. Their connection felt genuine, tender, and incredibly sweet.

I also loved the small-town island vibes and the way the setting added to the cozy, escapist feeling of the story. It was such a unique and fun read, while still managing to explore some really emotional themes.

A surprisingly heartfelt romance with a quirky premise, lovable characters, and plenty of cozy small-town charm. Definitely a memorable read!

Thank you Netgalley and the publisher for an ARC of this book!

[Demetri Papadimitropoulos]

Each Has Evidence on the Other. Naturally, They Fall in Love.
Timothy Janovsky’s “The Invisible Roommate” makes blackmail-adjacent cohabitation, invisible anatomy, pop songwriting, and emotional disclosure into an unexpectedly coherent romantic experiment.
By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | September 22nd, 2026

Disappearing is Gerard Wells’s first act of self-defense in Timothy Janovsky’s “The Invisible Roommate”; naming himself is the second. He reaches remote Iping Island calling himself James, an alias meant to conceal the youngest member of the chart-topping brother band We the Wells. Five years later, James is the name he keeps. What began as camouflage has become a choice. Janovsky’s improbable romance is sharpest when it follows that transfer of ownership: who gets to name a person, read him, market him, publish him, expose him, and decide which version of his life will stick.

Exhaustion sends Gerard running after a concert, away from touring, surveillance, family expectation, and a career in which success is expected to excuse every cost. On Iping he rents a weathered studio above the home of Regina, an elderly islander with a musical past. The room appears haunted. Objects move. Food disappears. The former tenant’s scientific equipment refuses to stay discarded. The ghost is Emory Griffin, a disgraced scientist whose unauthorized invisibility research has worked too well. He is transparent, irritable, hiding from local police, and insulted that a pop star has moved into what he still considers his laboratory.

Meeting Emory turns Gerard’s fantasy of privacy inside out. Gerard is recognized almost everywhere and known almost nowhere; Emory cannot be seen and has spent years wanting to become impossible to overlook. Gerard wants relief from attention. Emory wants enough of it to prove wrong the academic world that dismissed him. Their first intimacy is almost hostile: Emory has read Gerard’s private journal and knows that he is gay and autistic, while Gerard knows Emory is hiding from islanders whose groceries he has stolen and whose golf carts he has treated as a free municipal fleet. Each has evidence on the other. Naturally, they negotiate rent.

Even the section headings give away the romantic result. Janovsky arranges the novel as a six-step scientific method. “Ask a Question” establishes the experiment; “Do Background Research” supplies Emory’s history; “Form a Hypothesis” announces, with cheerful contempt for suspense, that if a pop star and a scientist are forced to live together, they will fall in love. Later sections test, analyze, and conclude. The destination is posted before the courtship properly begins. What keeps the device from feeling merely cute is that the men gradually discover the experiment was badly designed: neither understood his own problem well enough to name the right variable.

The sentences move quickly without pretending not to notice themselves. Janovsky favors medium-length lines interrupted by internal asides, physical reactions, quick jokes, and dialogue that keeps a scene from sitting still too long. Gerard’s mind is musical, anxious, trained by stages and publicity; Emory translates experience into physiology, hypotheses, measurable outcomes, and problems that might yield if bullied with sufficient data. Janovsky also enjoys a simile that arrives wearing a small hat. Most are welcome guests. A few have not noticed the party is over.

Reading an invisible body forces the book to notice things other romances can leave to a glance. Gerard learns Emory through voice, heat, scent, breath, fabric, touch, and the tiny disturbances a body leaves in space. A shirt smelling of Emory becomes evidence; the weight beside Gerard in bed becomes a portrait. The sexual scenes use the same constraint more intelligently than one might expect from the jokes it enables. Gerard cannot look at Emory’s face to infer what he wants, and his autism already makes implication unreliable. Desire has to become verbal. Words become a form of sight.

Importantly, we first meet Emory from outside. To Gerard he is a phenomenon: shifted objects, missing food, a shattered mirror, a threatening voice. Only after Gerard demands an explanation does the novel swing backward into Emory’s graduate-school history, lost scholarship, secret experiments, arrival on Iping, and betrayal. The chronology makes us revise a judgment we have already enjoyed making. Emory does not become innocent. He becomes harder to reduce.

Perhaps the fact Janovsky withholds most effectively is the one behind Emory’s hatred of Halloween. At five, dressed as a scientist and clutching a chemistry kit, he sat outside a firehouse party while his mother said she was going to the bathroom and never returned. He stayed because she told him to stay. The celebration thinned around him. Police eventually found the abandoned child. Placed immediately before the Halloween climax, the memory changes the masquerade from seasonal set piece into reenactment. When adult Emory chooses to attend Gerard’s performance, he walks back into the setting of his oldest disappearance and, for once, chooses the return himself.

Attention is cheap in Gerard’s life and scarce in Emory’s, but neither man actually needs more of the commodity he begins by craving or avoiding. Fans know Gerard’s face while remaining ignorant of the sexuality, autism, and exhaustion shaping the man behind it. Emory imagines scientific fame as retroactive proof that the child left on that bench mattered. The romance acquires weight through smaller exchanges: Gerard waits for Emory to speak instead of guessing; Emory learns that someone can leave the apartment and still come home. The book’s best version of being “seen” is almost stubbornly ordinary.

Privacy first becomes concrete through a violation. Emory reads Gerard’s journal before Gerard has offered him any of its truths. That trespass keeps the novel from making the sentimental mistake of treating knowledge as care. Later disclosures work differently. Gerard decides what Emory may know. Emory tells Gerard what he has spent decades refusing to narrate. The difference is not secrecy versus honesty. It is knowledge taken versus knowledge entrusted.

A cosmetics experiment says this more deftly than several later speeches. Gerard tries to give Emory a visible face with foundation, brows, blush, and lipstick, while eyes, teeth, and hair remain stubbornly absent. The result is less boyfriend than cosmetics-counter apparition. Gerard wipes away the manufactured face and realizes that appearance has become largely irrelevant to his attraction. He kisses Emory. The next kiss lands without a visual target. Funny, erotic, faintly grotesque, the scene trusts its own absurdity enough to become moving.

Domestic life does what metaphor alone cannot. They cook, divide the bed by schedule and then quietly stop dividing it, buy walkie-talkies, teach each other, apologize, wait for the other to come home. Emory has never trusted permanence; Gerard has almost never known ordinary life without some apparatus of management around it. Janovsky lets care become repetitive before he lets it become romantic. By the time the declarations arrive, the chores have already argued the case.

If Gerard teaches Emory music, Emory gives Gerard another language for uncertainty. Their professional vocabularies start leaking into each other. Emory initially approaches music through physiology, structure, and measurable response, then discovers what refuses reduction. Gerard begins borrowing the language of hypotheses, experiments, and data. Their collaboration on “The Invisibility Song” makes the exchange literal: Emory translates difficult science into ordinary language; Gerard teaches him how repetition and melody lodge information in the mind. Falling in love changes not only what they know, but how they know it.

More unexpectedly, the song punctures Emory’s fantasy of scientific fame. He wants to ambush an alumni gathering and force the institution that rejected him to acknowledge his breakthrough. Later, an older doctor returns his stolen research and asks what an invisibility serum might become in less conscientious hands. The ethical inquiry is brief, perhaps too brief, but it gives Emory a decision no applause can make for him. He has spent years wanting his name attached permanently to a discovery. Growing up means accepting that being credited for something is not sufficient reason to release it.

It is when Janovsky insists on explaining the machinery that some of its charm leaks away. The scientific framework eventually announces that the results support the hypothesis and then states the romantic conclusion. Characters sometimes articulate meanings that the preceding scene has already made clear. Images return with captions attached. The problem is not that the book is easy to understand; ease is part of its charm. It is that a novel so interested in who controls interpretation occasionally denies the reader the small pleasure of getting there first. The book is rarely obscure and occasionally overlit.

The harder problem arrives after Emory stops hiding. His Halloween confession works because physical visibility is no longer the issue: the serum has already worn off. His consequential act is ethical. He names the theft, deception, and invisible mischief, apologizes to the people he frightened, and asks to be arrested. Iping, however, wants restitution rather than exile. The choice is humane, and romance hardly needs a carceral ending to prove seriousness. Still, the route from menace to adopted eccentric is smoother than Emory’s offenses warrant.

Resolution is equally hospitable elsewhere. Emory’s betrayer is neutralized with startling completeness. Gerard’s brothers adapt. The band ends without ending the family. Emory gets work, community, and eventually a classroom; the relationship becomes marriage; their song finds a second life. A romance owes its lovers happiness, not probation. But almost every major pressure eventually learns good manners. Janovsky earns the happy ending; he occasionally over-furnishes it.

One reason Gerard lingers after the speculative trick has worn off is the gap between what he can do and what doing it costs him. He sings beautifully before thousands, meets professional obligations, poses for cameras, and appears functional while light, crowds, sleep deprivation, scrutiny, and constant self-monitoring leave him overwhelmed. His autism diagnosis does not magically explain every difficulty, and the novel is better for that. It gives him language for needs the celebrity machine has trained other people to misread as temperament.

Public disclosure receives similar care. Gerard’s queerness and autism are not secrets the narrative treats as shameful failures that bravery must cure. He fears consequences for his career, his brothers, their employees, and his relationship with religion. When he finally tells his family, the importance lies in choosing the disclosure himself. Nobody is entitled to private truth simply because revealing it would look courageous from outside.

Other romances help locate Janovsky’s peculiar little laboratory without quite duplicating it. Beth O’Leary’s “The Flatshare” offers a neighboring experiment in intimacy mediated by shared domestic space; Casey McQuiston’s “One Last Stop” shares the pleasure of queer romance under impossible conditions; Holly Gramazio’s “The Husbands” likewise runs love through a conceptual machine. Janovsky’s own trick is sensory. Gerard shares a room, a bed, and eventually a life with someone whose face he cannot see, then discovers that vision may be the least interesting sense with which to know him.

Underneath the ghost jokes, choir rehearsals, scientific pop songs, and invisible-body logistics, names and credits keep acquiring weight. Gerard Wells is a commercial identity administered by family, management, fans, and the music business. Emory wants his name fastened to his scientific achievement so securely that nobody can erase him again. Anderson’s theft threatens exactly that. Emory’s public confession then lets him tell the story of his wrongdoing before anyone else turns him permanently into its villain. Gerard performs an equally radical edit years later: James, once the fake name, becomes his real one. Taking Griffin as his surname turns Emory’s name, too, into something shared rather than solitary.

Love here is not x-ray vision. Gerard does not earn intimacy by penetrating every layer of Emory, and Emory does not earn it by acquiring all of Gerard’s secrets. They learn instead to pay attention without confusing attention with ownership. That is the book’s most persuasive idea, and it explains why the occasional over-explanation irritates more than it otherwise would. A story about two people reclaiming the right to interpret themselves is strongest when it leaves the reader a little interpretive privacy too.

On the evidence of the whole novel, I land at 83/100, or 4/5 stars. The score leaves room for the repetitive middle, the explanatory instinct, and the conspicuously accommodating resolutions, but it also recognizes how long the central conceit keeps producing character after the novelty of an invisible roommate should have expired. This is not rigorous speculative fiction pretending to be a romance, nor does it need to be. Its intelligence lies in finding emotional uses for its impossibility.

Still, the shoreline offers the better final measure. James first comes to Iping because he wants somewhere no one will look at him; Emory makes himself invisible because being overlooked has become unbearable. Years later they stand on that same threatened island, using music and science to help keep it above water. Gerard once treated attention as something to flee and Emory as something to win. Now one chooses when to sing and the other chooses what knowledge to share, while the Chesapeake keeps pressing against the land. Two private fantasies of disappearance have become an act of preservation.

[kilmosnaps]

4.25⭐️

This was honestly so sweet and lovely.

I kinda loved it and this also reads like Jonas Brothers fan fiction with invisibility. Gerard is the youngest brother of a trio band of brothers. Literally the dad was a pastor before becoming their manager, 1 bro wants to start family and 1 wants to go solo (WAVES arms widely).

Gerard escapes to this remote island mentioned in his favourite childhood song because he can’t deal with fame and his new autism diagnosis which EXPLAINS HIS LIFE.

The NetGalley description reads “autumnal Gothic love story…” I wasn’t getting gothic vibes at all. Gothic means mysterious and moody to me. I was getting two guys drawn together by circumstance and working out their childhood trauma and learning to discover themselves and figure their lives and how to navigate their relatives. Not in a dark romance way, like a cute cozy small town romcom way with a grumpy virgin mmc. The way they work through the forced proximity/one bed was fantastic.

The Invisible Man bit was like a means to an end. It made the focus Emory discovering how to be a likeable person and resolve his issues. There’s also this religious through-line to the story dealing with Gerard’s autism and learning how to love music again that was nice and wasn’t overtly preachy.

I fully bought their relationship progression and the set pieces were really cute and I liked the small town seaside vibes.

This was also really more closed door than I’d anticipated. Like you’ve set up Emory is a virgin and there’s all this anticipation of the night and then you go… the next day yada yada. I know he can write sex based on the last 3 books of his I read.

I feel like the end was kinda of a cop out otherwise it would’ve been 4.5⭐️. This was cute and a good addition to the Janovsky ouevre.

Special Thanks to Netgalley for this Advanced Reader Copy
Publication Date: Sept 29, 2026

[L.A. Dupier]

So sweet, it’ll make your teeth ache! I didn’t know what to expect going in to this one but I’ll try anything that comes from the mind of Timothy Janovsky! I was so pleasantly surprised by how charming and captivating this story is. Set on a tiny island, two people hiding for very different reasons collide in the best of ways, finding solace and comfort in each other as well as the place itself while they open up to each other about Emory’s past and Gerard’s neurodivergence.
The nerdy meets artsy vibe is as entertaining as it is gripping and I couldn’t put the book down until I finished it. The pieces of the story surrounding religion in a small community were really compelling and interesting to me as an agnostic person. Especially when the one exploring it is a queer man who’s trying to figure out religion’s role in his life. And then the science and mystery of how Emory found himself invisible and will he ever be able to fix it had me on tenterhooks page after page.
The spice level is a sweet simmer but the love is loud and sparkly. The angst is relatively low, making this a perfect cozy fall read. And the ending and epilogue had me grinning from ear to ear until my cheeks hurt. Yet another title from this author that does not disappoint!

A huge thank you to the Author for an advanced copy of this book!

[Jules (Real Life Kenma)]

Thank you SO SOO MUCH to NetGalley and St. Martin’s Press for the arc of this book in exchange for my honest review.

This story had me kicking my feet and giggling like I was little again, which is not an experience I expected by a long shot. 😂 Like an exceptionally soft blanket on a rainy day, Janovsy managed to make this work ooze comfort and I loved every second of it.

The MCs are strong and so easily lovable. These two are the type of characters easy to get lost in from how relatable they are. I see myself, and many of my loved ones reflected in their faces and in their story.

As for the story itself, the pacing was perfect. Not too slow, not too quick, the story carries the reader in a way that allows the reader to get to know the characters as they get to know themselves and one another.

Genuinely a beautifully written, heart-warming work that I will be recommending until I’m blue in the face.

[lindsey]

thank you to netgalley and the publisher for the review!

unfortunately, this book is bad. i am certain i bounced off timothy janovsky once before (although my goodreads has no record of it) and decided to give him another chance. i should not have done that.

this book should have been fun, and wacky, and over the top. it should have been weird and interesting. instead, it was an overexplained mess written by an author with an addiction to thesaurus.com. let's get into why i didn't like it:

a lot of it was in the narration. it was just disgustingly bad. at one point gerard thinks to himself: "this time, he trusted his unique intelligence" and i almost vomited. gerard loved to go on about how he was unique and special. apparently he is the only special boy to question religion in the world and the only reason for that is because he is autistic. because non-autistic people never question religion. ever. "but he supposed his curiosity and neurodivergence were what made him unique and a good artist" shut the fuck up. mr gerard wells i am glad you got your diagnosis but i promise you every single human being is a complete individual who is capable of making art (until they melt their brain with ai but that's a different problem).
emory's pov isn't any better. i get that he is stuck in his ridiculous immature ways because of his weird halloween-related abandonment trauma (wtf) or whatever but reading him made me roll my eyes every other sentence. also if i ever have to read the words "his adventurous tongue" with regards to blowjobs ever again i am going to explode. being in his head was infuriating. i hope i never need to watch another twenty eight year old man learn to say sorry again. and the several chapter long flashback to give us emory's story was lazy, bad storytelling. there must have been a more interesting and well developed way to give the reader that information. please. i am begging you.
and did you know this is a book about religion? gerard spends the entire book waffling on whether or not having gay sex is a sin despite supposedly spending his entire childhood poking holes in catholicism. the priest is a terrible priest, because there is a religious official who is incapable of engaging critically with their faith is no good at their job. if it was a good book about religion i would have forgiven it for springing that nonsense on me but alas, it was not.
anyways, a lot of these problems hinge on the fact that janovsky thinks that i, his reader, am stupid. i apparently need everything explained. there is no subtext allowed, because if a metaphor goes unexplained the poor reader might have to think (the terror!). janovsky does not trust the reader to understand the weight of events unless the explanation is underlined, in bold, and highlighted. the dialogue is just as bad as the inner narration with incredible zingers like "are you referring to the handkerchief saint gerard gave to a young girl who later in life laid it on herself in childbirth and it abated her pain?". and taking three paragraphs for emory to tell us what science communication is. i have known many excellent science communicators in my time and i promise you, there is no universe in which emory is one of them.
finally and probably most egregiously: why is nobody worried about emory's definitely terrible facial hair??? the man can't shave and has been invisible for months and yet gerard suffers not a hint of beard burn. make it make sense.

sorry to say, but i did not have a good time reading this. timothy janovsky, you might be a cool and fun person but based on this book i think i would have you with unreasonable passion. thanks again to all involved for the arc, i suppose!

[Jefferz]

Like a fluffy sweater on a breezy Fall day or a sugar-spiked pumpkin spice latte, take your pick of equally appropriate autumn metaphor, the Invisible Roommate by Timothy Janovsky is a warm-hearted and sweet M/M contemporary romance / queer literature book. Inspired by the Invisible Man genre-swapped, this book crosses boyband pop star music with scientific inquiry and the charm of the rural New England bay islands. A story about self-worth, values, family, and what it means to be seen, the Invisible Roommate is a wonderfully pleasant book that’s the perfect weekend kind of read. (On Goodreads, 4.5 stars rounded up)

Highlights:
☕︎ Fun and interesting twist on the Invisible Roommate, using the invisibility premise for a blind dating setup and an exploration of self-worth.
☕︎ Characters, dialogue, setting, and general plotting are relaxed, comfortable and safe feeling. Low angst story and frequent heart-to-hearts make this a low-key yet satisfying queer joy read.
☕︎ The story is sweet, well-intentioned, and cozy even when discussing heavier topics that add narrative substance to it. One of Janovsky’s most polished and well-rounded novels to date.

Considerations:
-Science musings, applications with music, and Emory’s obsession with STEM guiding his principles is a bit contrived and silly at times.
-While sweet and natural, some may find the central romance to be a bit light.

Pitched as the Invisible Man meets Love is Blind, the book follows Gerard Well, a popstar boyband member who has flown to rural Iping Island in the Chesapeake Bay to get away from the mental pressure and stress associated with stardom. Following the lyrics of a childhood favorite song Island State of Mind by a folk duo Hallowitz & Hart, Gerard rents an upstairs cottage studio apartment from the beloved and island choir director Regina for an off the grid escape. The book blurb is an accurate description of the story which some may consider a loose retelling of H. G. Well’s the Invisible Man. However, unlike Well’s novel that’s primarily science fiction with psychological thriller and horror elements, Janovsky’s take retains the base premise with numerous homages but instead tells a romantic character story based on blind conversations without any looks involved.

While familiarity with the inspiration leads to a lot of fun surprises as well as a few quietly hilarious moments, this book can be read and appreciated fully on its own. For those that have read Well’s novel, the Invisible Roommate features some key elements like Emory being nocturnal, pursuing invisibility, burglarizing for supplies, bandaged around his head, and his last name being “Griffin”. The Sussex village of Iping is swapped out for an eroding low-lying island as well as the inn’s ownership being ported over (any more details will include spoilers). Many of the novel’s characters are also reworked or honored by name such as Griffin’s assistant, Dr. Kemp, Colonel Adye now a sheriff, etc. While the musician angle and the book’s back-half diverge from the Invisible Man well outside of retelling territory, this book nonetheless is full of Easter Eggs.

Structured around a forced and unorthodox living arrangement, the Invisible Roommate tells an endearing story that weaves together music and science, Gerard and Emory’s worlds respectively. The story has a few important storylines of Gerard figuring out his future in a career that causes him to suffer and Emory solidifying his scientific theory for invisibility in time for a symposium (on top of fixing his current condition), but the book has a quiet and meandering approach that feels unhurried much like life on Iping Island. While these character aspirations form the base of the story to work off of, much of the book is also of the two discovering their personal worth and values through each other’s company and support. While the book has a satisfying and conclusive ending, this is the type of story that’s not about the end destination but the journey along the way, in this case cohabitation as roommates or possibly something more.

I’ve read a number of Janovsky’s books as they’ve been published over the years, and the Invisible Roommate is perhaps his most confident and polished one yet. While I’ve found his books very sweet and highly entertaining, they would sometimes walk the line of being endearing and just a little bit over-the-top silly. While this book has some great comedic moments, it also feels more mellow and refined with a lovely ease to it that feels like the work of an established and settled author. Written in 3rd person past tense which I believe may be a first for Janovsky, the storytelling feels more grounded than I would’ve expected which was a pleasant surprise. The autumn season and rural island vibes also help to give the book a really comfy feeling, it being a great cozy read for me.

Both Gerard and Emory are well-written and lovable characters. While handsome and popstar styled, Gerard is a musician and singer prone to stress and anxiety made worse by the attention and fame their band has attracted over the years. Feeling restricted, misunderstood, and alone, he longs for anonymity or to be unseen. Emory on the other hand feels that he has everything to prove, longing to be seen and taken seriously. Orphaned at a young age and fascinated by science, he tunnel visions on his scholarly pursuits of biological invisibility having struggled to survive. Opposite in their goals of being perceived as well as music vs science, the two have wonderful platonic chemistry as strangers turn awkward friends through forced proximity. I’ve mentioned it in many reviews in the past, but unless a book is specifically shooting for an enemies-to-lovers arc, I personally love when characters have strong platonic chemistry first which makes the jump to romantic chemistry more natural and easy. Gerard and Emory’s conversations simply flow with good vibes all the time. This book also has nice neurodivergent autistic representation as well as Emory’s fits of spiraling and losing a grasp of life outside of his research.

Interestingly, unlike many M/M romance books, this couple doesn’t have an obvious masculine/femine or dom/sub roles, though Gerard is more conventionally handsome and built than Emory who’s naturally slimmer (outside of his seasonal crabfishing part-time job). While there are a few common tropes used like the one bed trope, they’re incorporated in unexpected ways such as Gerard and Emory swapping the bed, one sleeping during the day while the other at tonight yet being able to smell each other on the sheets; this is both classy and also quite sexy compared to the usual accidental spooning. The book also has a fun and low-key flirty feel but doesn’t get overly passionate and smutty which I personally also enjoyed, sometimes less is more when handled well. A particular scene involving cosmetics is equally funny as it is suggestive, in an unorthodox kind of way.

Outside of Gerard and Emory, their landlord Regina is a highlight every time she pops-in. I’ve noticed that one of Janovsky’s best assets in his books is how he writes his older women characters who often serve as pseudo mentors. I’ve loved Aunt Isla in A Mannequin for Christmas and the aloof Alice Kelly in Never Been Kissed, Regina continues Janovsky’s trend of distinctive and lovable found family maternal figures, this time with a musical and protective role.

While I consider the story to be very cozy by my standards, it also doesn’t shy away from exploring more nuanced topics. Beyond the aforementioned theme of being perceived revolving around the book’s invisibility premise, the story also discusses the complex feelings and relationship many queer individuals have with religion and the church. Originally discovering his love of singing and performing in church and seeing hymns, Gerard's conflict between fond memories of his childhood vs the hate and potential religious smite against his sexuality is something that many grapple with. Janovsky goes one step further, lightly touching on some of the hypocrisy in the church’s preaching and practices, further exemplifying the potentially uncomfortable dynamics between religion and identity. Other strong topics include strained or absent familial relationships such as the oversight and ignorance of Gerard’s feelings and mental health by his family band members/manager father, Emory’s orphaned childhood and abandonment, and Regina carrying on and choosing to stay on Iping Island after her local husband passed away. the Invisible Roommate doesn’t attempt to provide answers to these difficult and nuanced topics, but shows that life gets better and those that are important will be there for you. On the flip side, while these themes add depth and substance to the story, the book never loses its breezy and comforting feel. The same could be said with the book’s conflict in character development and relationship departments, no unnecessary or forced third act breakup to be seen!

Well-crafted and heartwarming, my only minor nitpicks with this book is that while the use of music as a form of therapy and emotional outlet was good, occasionally the science element felt a bit clunky. While the story is meant to contrast Gerard and Emory’s different worlds together, Emory’s internalized thoughts and character logic sometimes went a little too far, coming off as unintentionally funny and silly when applied to his character logic so heavily. Ordinarily this wouldn’t be as noticeable if not for how smooth Gerard’s music interest is handled, particularly the recurring lyrics and connections to his favorite childhood folk song and choir performance reflections. The pairing of music with science also sometimes felt a little contrived, but the book is so unapologetically sweet that it’s hard to be too harsh on it. While I personally enjoyed the balance between character story/queer literature and romance, I could also see some contemporary romance readers finding the romance to be a bit too light or slow. I really appreciated that this book didn’t fall into the common pitfall of being too thirsty with the eye-candy or spice (Janovsky actually has other books in his bibliography if you’re looking for that) and I thought it was matched appropriately to the story the book was telling.

Roommates to lovers with a lot of shared experiences and heart-to-hearts, the Invisible Roommate is a cozy warm hug of a book. Fans of Janovsky’s previous books like myself already know they’ll be getting a wholesome and relatable story but for those new to his work, there’s a lot to like. This is a great book to pick if you’re looking for queer joy and finding one’s home, a low angst and safe place of a story. Timothy Janovsky’s writing, maturity, and storytelling keeps developing with every book, the Invisible Roommate being yet another success!

This review is based on a complimentary Advanced Reader Copy provided by St. Martin's Press.

*For more reviews, book lists and reading updates, check out my blog TheBookGrind!

[Ryo]

I received a copy of this book for free in a Goodreads giveaway.

Cute gay love story that I wish I could have liked more. The premise is fun if you don't take it too seriously, and the love story is kind of corny but likable. I just wished that there were some story aspects that weren't just thrown in and forgotten about, and the villains are kind of one-dimensional.

Gerard Wells is the youngest of three brothers, and he's in a boy band, like the Jonas Brothers or something like that. The pressure of his career and the rabid fans gets to him, so he escapes to the remote Iping Island to get away from it all. He rents a room in an old house, only to discover that Emory Griffin, a former graduate student who's discovered how to turn himself invisible, is still squatting in the room. They're both trying to escape their lives and come to an agreement to be roommates, and eventually they fall in love. The invisibility stuff obviously requires some suspension of disbelief, but I think that accepting that premise, the story works well. There's complications with Emory's condition, as well as a lot of funny moments where he and Gerard have to hide the fact that there's two of them living in the apartment. The love story between two gay, neurodivergent men is something that I don't often see, and I appreciated the representation. The setting is also done well, with the very distinct atmosphere of a remote island where everyone knows each other, and the quirky locals that interact with the main characters. Gerard and Emory both change and grow in their own ways, and this is done in a gradual, realistic way, with both of them supporting each other.

There are aspects to the story that feel like they deserved further exploration, however. Gerard joins the local church choir and also wrestles with his faith, even talking to a priest multiple times, but at the end, after some questioning, his struggle with religion kind of just gets thrown away in favor of a happy ending. Emory's adventures in academia are written in a rather clunky way. He picks a new research topic as if this were no big deal, and he also seems really determined to show off his research at an event, when this doesn't seem consistent with the rest of his character. There's a bit of sex, but the really juicy stuff happens "off-screen" and I really wanted something a lot more explicit after the tease leading up to it.

There's two main villains, and they're both kind of one-dimensional, without really any redeeming qualities. It's hard to understand their motivations, other than just being mean. It would've been nice to have villains with more nuance and more realistic motivations to do the things they did, rather than basically just causing mischief. The ending also wraps everything up in a very neat bow, with a lot of problems that just get kind of magically swept away. Gerard and Emory definitely go through struggles during the main part of the book, but at the end of it all, there's an unrealistic amount of good luck that leads to an unrealistically happy ending.

It's a book with a fun premise, and a heartwarming romance with some needed representation. I just wish that there were some aspects of the plot that were explored better, and I do wish there were some more explicit sex scenes after a tease beforehand. The happy ending is nice and leaves you with some warm, fuzzy feelings, but it does feel a bit contrived.

[Cheri]

4.5 stars

It didn’t occur to me, before starting this book, that it’s perfectly timed for spooky season. But it is just that. It spans the time leading up to Halloween. From days that are still warm, transitioning to crisp sweater weather. It was the perfect setting for some Invisible Man storytelling.

You cannot go into this story expecting great scientific detail. After all, we’re talking about invisibility. To be sure, Emory has good intentions for trying to unlock the key to making a person (or animal) undetectable to the eye. But you can’t look too closely at his scientific method.

Emory was, quite frankly, unlikable at the beginning of this book. He was sympathetic, so that helped move the story. Plus, his unlikability was purposeful. Gerard, on the other hand, had my heart from the start. He may be the one who is the rich celebrity who seems to have it all, yet he’s lovable, kind, and thoughtful. And then the poor guy gets saddled with an ornery ghost who turns out to not be a ghost.

Gerard and Emory forge a truce that progresses to a friendship, which progresses to a love connection. They are so good for one another. Gerard is so patient with Emory, even when he’s being a jerk. The empathetic part of Gerard sees the hurt in Emory…even when he literally cannot see him. Emory doesn’t care about Gerard’s fame, his sexual orientation, or that he’s neurodivergent. None of those things, that seem so huge to Gerard in his real life, seem like such a big deal when he’s with Emory. Their chemistry builds throughout the story in just the right way.

The play on invisibility and visibility in this book is fantastic. The hypervisibility of pop star Gerard. The invisibility of Emory as a child in the foster care system. The way Gerard could be so visible to his fans, but in a way that his true self wasn’t visible at all. The same could be said for his position in his family. He had a purpose and use in the band, but along the way his family had lost the ability to look at each other as individuals. And Emory was all too visible when the bullies were targeting him.

There is an odd thread of religion in this book. Not that it’s being pushed, or anything like that. But Gerard starts singing with the local church choir on his island escape, and has a few conversations with the priest that didn’t seem complete. Gerard was grappling with how to go back to his real life and come clean to his family about his wants, needs, and who he really is. In that context, with the acceptance of the people in the church choir and others in town, that is accomplished. But the priest made some problematic and archaic statements at times that I felt were unnecessary if they weren’t going to be followed up on and corrected. It was strange in the way that he seemed to accept Gerard and judge him at the same time. I guess that could have been the point. The others in the community were fully accepting, though.

The character growth in this story is huge. For both characters, but mostly for Emory. And this small island town, which is very protective of its own and leery of outsiders, also grows along with this couple. I really enjoyed this book.

**I received an ARC of this book courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher. All opinions expressed in this review are my own and given freely.**

[Gabrielle]

ARC Review

2 ⭐️ 1 🌶️

I didn’t know anything about this book going in and was super excited when I realized I was basically reading HG Wells’ The Invisible Man but the MM romance version. I was fully ready to practice suspension of disbelief and enjoy a silly little pop star x mad scientist romance. Sadly, the book became disappointing about halfway through.

What I loved was the beginning of the story and the physical and romantic tension between the two main characters as they navigated their super strange roommate situation. Like I said, suspension of disbelief, so I didn’t care about the obvious flaws of the premise (how would Emory shave, if you can see food going in you should be able to see poo as well, etc.). I was there for the idea of falling in love with someone fully from their soul never knowing what they look like. That part I thought was done very well. And the first part of the book was funny as well. I could see it in my mind as a rom com with lots of silly physical comedy.

Unfortunately, the book went downhill once the two characters got together. I felt that all the romantic tension that had built had very little payoff. All the sudden, the book becomes about Gerard’s personal relationship to religion which kind of came out of no where for me and then took up a lot of the plot. I loved the idea of him as a pop star having a found family in this small town choir, but I felt his discussions with the priest made the book come across as almost preachy. Gerard brings up important criticisms of the church and the priest just kinda shrugs them off. Then it seems like Gerard just goes oh maybe I’m just questioning this because I’m autistic. I have no problem with queer books exploring religion, but I felt this was not well done.

I did appreciate the neurodivergent rep in Gerard, but I’m wondering why Emory is also written super autistic coded but it is never touched on at all? As I’m reading Emory’s backstory I’m thinking oh he’s ASD as well. But nope, it never came up.

Now I have to get to resolution of the story. Emory is so gung ho about his discovery and how it can help people thorough out the whole story. Even when his professor makes super valid points about the dangers, he thinks it will do good. Then all the sudden at the end he realizes what a catastrophe it would be to go public with it? I would have liked more development of how he comes to this realization. Furthermore, when I am already engaging in suspension of disbelief regarding the science aspect, I need the rest of the plot to be believable. It was so silly the way he revealed himself to the town and then they all believed him immediately. They had been so up in arms about his very silly and petty crimes, but were willing to forgive him for basically no reason at all.

I was really hoping for something special in this book and sadly it did not meet expectations. I found out after reading that it was being advertised as a “fall gothic romance” and that made me even more confused. I guess there was some pumpkin spice and Halloween but I saw nothing gothic about this book at all.

[The Polished Diamond]

I’m really struggling with how to rate this book. The concept was so so fun. The characters I really loved. But there was one thing that… surprised me.. and unfortunately for me not in a good way. However, my feelings on this are strictly my own issue and so I think others may not see this as a negative.

This book had A LOT of religion in it. Religion is a personal sore spot for me and I become a little triggered by it sometimes (most times). I have to put effort into making myself feel distanced from other peoples feelings and experiences concerning religion. It’s important to me that I allow space for others to find good in it, but I know I never will. I had to really push myself to let this story play out, and I will say that this piece of the story is done really well overall. One of the MCs has distanced himself from the church due to his sexuality and has sort of rediscovered it on this island. The journey isn’t blind devotion but a real effort for the MC in trying to decide if religion still has a place in his life. There is a lot of questioning, and pushing to find understanding. I can understand and respect that. BUT I do think it was too much. The romance is slow burn, and as we move forward in that aspect I would feel like we were finally getting somewhere and suddenly the scene would shift and he would be in the church again. It was like continually being cock blocked by god. I’m here for the romance and only tolerating the religion.. so that was a real downside for me.

Aside from religion, I did think there were slight invisible man plot holes but it’s a story about an invisible man so I chose to just shoo those to the side and let it happen. I got such a kick out of the neighborhood app reporting his invisible shenanigans and I loved that this was a part of the story. I just found the thought so funny. I couldn’t stop picturing our grumpy invisible man running around town naked, driving golf carts, and eating apples. Like, I just know he had a grumpy face while doing these things. I also can’t say I fully understood his need to be at the alumni event…. And parts of this story were truly VERY difficult to read. Though I have to give the author credit there because it was because I was truly invested in the characters and hated how they were being treated.

I can see myself recommending this book to people while making sure they understand certain aspects. I unfortunately keep feeling like I’m being catfished into closed door romance… and while this book is not totally closed door (some acts are briefly described), the scenes do end before anything much happens. This will always disappoint me. Missing the internal feelings of characters while they explore the most intimate scenes will always distance me from the building of the relationship.

I want to thank Timothy Janovsky and St Martin for the eARC of this book. I think this story has a place in my recommendations, even though it wasn’t truly a story meant for me.

[Jessica Brainard]

The Invisible Roommate by Timothy Janovsky is a charming, autumnal queer romance that cleverly blends elements of The Invisible Man, Love is Blind, and a cozy Gothic vibe—perfect for fans of heartfelt, low-stakes MM stories with a speculative twist.

Gerard Wells is the youngest member of a popular boy band (or similar music group). He loves creating music but despises the relentless spotlight of fame. Desperate for a break and some anonymity, he seeks out a quiet rental. Enter Emory, a scientist who has accidentally (or experimentally) rendered himself literally invisible and is now in hiding while trying to reverse the condition. With limited options, the two unlikely strangers agree to become temporary roommates.What follows is a story of forced proximity in a moody, Halloween-adjacent setting. Gerard can’t see his roommate, but he can hear him, sense his presence, and gradually get to know the man behind the invisibility. Their interactions are sweet, awkward, funny, and increasingly vulnerable, leading to an unexpected romantic spark as they navigate trust, loneliness, fame vs. privacy, and the challenges of connecting when one person is quite literally unseen.Janovsky delivers his signature style here: warm, witty, and emotionally grounded queer romance with a light sci-fi/paranormal hook. The premise is fresh and playful—imagine trying to date or flirt when your partner is invisible—while still exploring relatable themes like the desire to disappear from public pressure or the fear of truly being “seen” in a relationship. The autumnal/Gothic atmosphere adds a fun seasonal flavor without tipping into horror.The book is fast-paced and easy to read, balancing light-hearted banter and humor with genuine emotion. It’s not overly heavy on the science (the invisibility feels more like a romantic device than hard sci-fi), which keeps the focus squarely on the developing relationship. Readers who enjoyed Janovsky’s previous works like New Adult or You’re a Mean One, Matthew Prince will likely appreciate the same mix of quirkiness, heart, and low-angst romance.

If you’re looking for a cozy, spooky-season read with strong character chemistry, tender moments, and a satisfying emotional payoff, The Invisible Roommate (out September 29, 2026) is a delightful pick. It’s ideal for anyone who wants romance that feels both escapist and emotionally real—think cuddly blankets, whispered conversations in the dark, and the thrill of falling for someone you can’t quite see… yet.Rating: 4/5 stars
A fun, inventive addition to the queer romance shelf that proves sometimes the best connections happen when the world (or one half of the couple) fades away. Highly recommended for fans of speculative romance and cozy fall reads.

[Daniel]

I was utterly and completely charmed by this cozy spooky season MM romance. Pop star Gerard Wells of superstar boy band We the Wells runs away when a promised hiatus from the grind gets taken away, and he hides his identity and ends up in an apartment on remote Iping Island. Unbeknownst to him, the previous tenant, former grad student Emory Griffin, who by all appearances had fled the apartment without a trace after a run-in with the law, is still occupying the apartment — but he’s invisible, having taken the invisibility serum that he developed in hopes of becoming a world-renowned scientist without knowing how long it would leave him in that state. As the clock ticks down towards Gerard’s impending responsibilities at home and Emory’s chance to reveal his discovery to the grad school that kicked him out, close proximity not only of the apartment but also of the small island leads both Gerard and Emory to resolve the struggles that drove each to Iping in the first place and to trust in each other as they start to fall in love.

Timothy Janovsky does an excellent job of crafting Gerard and Emory’s personal journeys in a way that’s perfectly complementary each to the other. Gerard’s exploration of what it means to live life on his own terms as a gay autistic man outside of the oppressive strictures of his band/family made for truly moving self-discoveries and powerful reflections on the nature of family, love, faith, and the privilege of having a space where you can truly be yourself. Emory’s realization that his defense mechanisms were keeping him trapped in the past and unable to appreciate the good right in front of him has you cheering the moment when he consciously decides to move forward. The interplay of celebrity and invisibility, which easily could have fallen into obvious moralization, instead becomes a potent force mediating Gerard’s passionate hunger for authenticity and Emory’s unwitting desire for connection.

I particularly loved the interwoven explorations of the psychological benefits and connective power of music, as it was Gerard’s favorite song / band that brought him to Iping in the first place, and as Gerard teaches Emory how to play the guitar and describes how his band's songs and albums came to fruition. I'm unashamed to admit that I squealed when I clocked that Gerard was teaching Emory "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" from the description of the chords before Green Day was mentioned, and it subsequently sent me down an American Idiot re-listening binge, so hey, thanks for that, Timothy Janovsky.

All in all, this book has so much heart and charm, and you cannot help but fall for and root for Gerard and Emory.

[Marcie]

I came for the premise. I stayed for the love story.

The Invisible Roommate, by Timothy Janovsky, features Gerard, a pop star who flees his family and fame to discover who he really is and what truly matters to him, and Emory, a brilliant scientist whose naivety and carelessness have trapped him in literal invisibility. When the two unwittingly become roommates, they realize that despite their differences, they share deeply similar struggles—and that what makes them unique might just make them perfect for each other.

Because the book was inspired by H.G. Wells's The Invisible Man, I was immediately intrigued by its original take on a classic story. The plot was easy to follow, and even though it leaned on familiar tropes, I found myself thoroughly engaged. The pacing dragged a bit in the middle, which unfortunately made the ending feel rushed. Furthermore, while the central conflict required a heavy suspension of disbelief, the stakes remained high for both characters throughout.

Both main characters are beautifully written with distinct points of view, and their growth—both individually and together—is captivating. However, Gerard’s motivations were crystal clear, standing in stark contrast to Emory’s, whose scientific pursuits seemed dubious at best. While Gerard always stayed true to himself, Emory’s choices occasionally contradicted his established character. On the bright side, the supporting cast was an absolute delight, forming a lovely "found family" for the main duo.

The prose is straightforward and descriptive, though it occasionally told me there was tension rather than naturally building it. While the setting was vibrant and easy to picture, I was pulled out of the story a few times by an odd mix of realistic and fictional details (for instance, the real-life band Green Day is mentioned, but the main character's band is nominated for a fictional award, called a Nomey). Similarly, the book's themes were handled delicately in some places, but felt a bit heavy-handed in others.

My biggest struggle, however, was Gerard’s relationship with religion. The book had a wonderful opportunity to explore the complexities of faith, but the narrative swept these conflicts under the rug with empty platitudes.

Ultimately, if you enjoy sweet romances and don't mind suspending your disbelief, this quirky love story is one I would definitely recommend.

[Claudia]

Nearly a five star read!! A slow burn, forced proximity MM romance with magical realism/sci-fi elements came to be a book I could not put down. I ate this up in two days. I work full time so I really spent all my free time being hooked on this story.

I loved getting to know these characters and while there were some cringy moments, (resolving conflict with the power of song) I'd still highly recommend this read to anyone with a love of quirky romance.

This story begins with Gerard who seeks relief from burnout. As a late in life diagnosed Autistic adult, he spent many years masking and powering through sensory overload in a world that is not made for neurodivergent people. This getaway, layered with the weight of fame, was very much needed. Little did he know that love awaits in the small abandoned rental he escapes to! A wacky first encounter with Emory marks the start of a wonderful relationship. Gerard is in a band with his two brothers. His religious upbringing ignited a love for music through hymns and in hand also ingrained shame regarding his identify. We see a beautiful character arc as he unpacks the complexity of seeking comfort in religion/spirituality while being far too aware of contradictions in the church's messaging surrounding love, redemption and piety.

"Writing lyrics was a way to process and understand the world and his emotions, both of which were often volatile and confounding."

Emory has a genius mind when it comes to science but navigating interpersonal relationships is the root of many hardships in his life. We learn about his history in foster care that sparks his interest in becoming invisible. I'm sure many can relate to that feeling of wanting to disappear to avoid being perceived. Emory took this concept and made it reality. He hoped that this discovery would give him immense praise from respected scientists and he'd prove himself to the world. I care not to explain his science but he succeeds in disappearing, only he did not account for a way to reverse it! This leads to hijinks and silly pranks around the island and eventually some unexpected hard truths. Emory learns that when it's someone who cares for you, being seen is not so bad ❤️

"...he understood that life was not about having everyone notice you; it was about finding the one person who would see you and love you even when you were at your most invisible."

[Chira]

I was looking forward to start this after being sent it, having enjoyed the previous works of Janovsky's I've read and intrigued by the Invisible Man premise. So I was surprised to find this so clumsily-done. Where in other works, the balance between personality and job, real life and psychological struggles managed to be both compelling and light-hearted enough to still fall in a rom-com genre, here Emory feels like a caricature of an obsessed scientist, and Gerard/James' Catholic guilt dominates.

Maybe if it had been one of the two, I could have dealt with it, but having both characters rub me the wrong way just meant that I never settled into the story and was never able to really believe their chemistry or love story. Emory was the worst for me - being a scientist myself meant that my brain snagged on absolutely everything that was wrong, which ranged from its approach to grad school programs in general to being able to set up any sort of laboratory on an island where anything brought in is inventoried to the invisibility itself (I'm happy to suspend belief, but the second you introduce one thing that might be an issue to overcome without addressing anything else on equal footing (we're going to have an issue with blood and hemoglobin not working with the serum, but ignore literally anything else in the body? like other fluids? or /bones/? either don't bring up an issue or be prepared to have it have worked in stages as he figured each obstacle out), that disbelief comes crashing back in).

Gerard (again, really? that's the name you picked for a queer music sensation with a last name starting with W? Even if you wanted a Catholic saint with a questionable history, there are so many other names you could've picked) almost goes in the opposite direction, having just /so/ many things going on and so many struggles. On the one hand, that's realistic - people are complex - but compared with Emory and in a dual PoV novel, it feels like way too much and too little time to be able to give any weight to all of them.

This one just felt like Janovsky never quite got past the gimmick part of having a "mad scientist" and a famous musician as the characters and it never quite solidified like his other novels have.

[Teresa (blewballoon)]

3.75⭐

Thank you to NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book!

I'm really torn on this one. I have a soft spot for Timothy Janovsky's books. There's something, for lack of a better word, cute about their writing. There are cheesy jokes and earnest similes that compliment the human flaws of the characters. That charm was still here, but I think I was trying really hard to put a positive spin on things while not actually having a good time reading.

If it weren't for the premarital gay sex (which happens off page) I would say this could be tagged as Christian Fiction. It felt like there was a LOT of time spent on discussing religion. It came up often in Gerard's chapters, with multiple visits to speak with a priest along with a lot of self reflection. Maybe this will resonate with people who want to keep their Christian faith but happen to have an identity that isn't compatible with the teachings of the church, but for a firm atheist like me it was an aspect of the book that turned me way off.

Like I mentioned, Janovsky writes flawed characters, and it took me quite a while to warm up to both of the main characters here. I do think they each had a lot of growth, particularly Emory, and the romance was good. They have some solid conversations and the physical chemistry working around the invisibility was well done. Another positive is that it felt like a fair amount of research went into music composition and biology to make each of the main characters sound competent in their field when teaching it to the other.

As I said, I would recommend this to folks who are having a crisis of faith and want to be told that they can cherry pick the parts of Christianity that work for them, while following along with a pretty good love story with a science fiction twist. I would not recommend this to people who aren't interested in religion and would prefer a steamier look at what could be done with invisible anatomy.

Content Warnings:
Moderate: Ableism, Bullying, Panic attacks/disorders, Sexual content, Medical content, Abandonment
Minor: Confinement, Drug abuse, Drug use, Homophobia, Mental illness, Alcohol

[Janalyn, the blind reviewer]

The Invisible Roommate by Timothy Janovsky, When Gerard a.k.a. James rents a room from Regina on a tiny little island he was drawn to by a song from his childhood he thinks only he will be living there. then for a couple of days he believes he’s being haunted that is until he walks in his apartment to find a pair of glasses in a robe making tea. After a whole lot of shock fear accusations questions he finally learned the guy’s name is Emery and yes he’s invisible. initially they both want the other to leave but have to come to some sort of arrangement because neither one of them wants to leave and one of them has nowhere to go. As for Gerard up until a few days ago he was in a popular band and although he still loves making music he doesn’t like the celebrity nor does he like the way the band has changed his family dynamic from a loving family to three boys with a Manager and his wife. He was even seeing a counselor this is how he learned he was autistic something else’s family doesn’t know, just one of many exciting things his family doesn’t know as Emery gets to know the pop stars story and Gerard gets to know how Emery went from being an orphan to being in a doctorate program. they slowly fall in love with each other which makes for some pretty funny things that happen in the book. I really like the way he brought up religion especially with him being gay and also him talking about being neurodivergent and having to come out as an adult with the diagnosis and with the whole he’s falling in love with Emery thing. I love this author’s books. so much there’s always something fun with lots of lol moments but he’s not afraid to also hit with the much harder subjects most other authors shy away from. Something the author does with class style and has apologies for no one. What did surprise me however when reading the reviews is how no matter what they talked about in the book everyone wants to bring up the religion as if any talk of religion gives them the skeviess IDK I mean it wasn’t like there was damn and hellfire discussion it was just normal questions about Saints no real heavy hitting subjects and yet everyone was perterbeded by that it’s just something that made me go hmmm.#NetGalley, #TheBlindReviewer, #MyHonestReview,

[Marie]

I rated this 4.5 out of 5

I once again read a book without reading a single blurb about it, and this time around, I don't have a single regret. Janovsky wrote a complicated and moving novel about finding yourself and falling in love along the way. Now that is not to say that part of the premise of this book is not bonkers, because Emory is invisible, but not a ghost. It's complicated. If you can set aside the naivety of Emory, who doesn't think he is bordering on a Batman villain with his invisibility research, this book is a really nice time.

I also really enjoyed how Janovsky created a community, not just two characters falling in love. Often in romance novels, the secondary characters can feel flat or nonexistent, but the way in which Janovsky created a Murder, She Wrote small-town atmosphere heightened the book and both James and Emory's journeys throughout.

I appreciated how the religious themes throughout the book were interwoven with Janovsky and were not necessarily a litany of facts about Saint Gabriel with no context, but a way to further James' own personal growth. At the beginning, it did seem a bit odd that we were mentioning that James was raised Catholic, but as the story went on, this seemed to integrate more into the story.

The care with which Janovsky also approached mental health and negative experiences with the foster care system was not only well written but emotionally moving. The way that Emory's story unfolded by showing glimpses of his past also added to the emotional connection developing between Emory and James in the text, because it felt that we were being told in the same way that James was.

Overall, this was a beautifully written novel. I would recommend it if you enjoy humorous romances with a bit of hijinx. Janovsky created characters that are sure to capture your heart.

I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

CONTENT WARNINGS
Moderate: Addiction, Emotional abuse, Sexual content, Grief, Toxic friendship

[Jordan]

4.75 rounded up

I really enjoyed this! I like to go into stories blind and because I did that, I was 99.9% convinced that the old tenant was a ghost and we were going to have a cutie little paranormal romance. This was such a fun twist on things, and I really enjoyed it.

I was giggled at different parts of it, like when James asked him if he had been naked the entire time and the condom scene was so funny. I think it gave everything you wanted a light, cute rom com to give but still had some darker themes and lessons that were portrayed well and would make the reader think. It had everything I was wanting, and once I started it I had a hard time putting it down.

The blend of supernatural and science with real world issues and throwing in some romance was done so well. I didn't get overly 'scienced' or get bored in the terms/chemicals. I felt that everything that Timothy Janovsky decided to include was needed and necessary, nothing felt out of place and it read very smoothly.

I loved the setting on the island and the idea of a scientist and a popstar falling in love is the juxtaposition that I needed.

My issue is the way that religion was used in this story. I don't really think it made sense to dive into it as deep as Gerard's character did when at the end it seemed to just be thrown out in favor of a happy ending? I think some of the talking points surrounding these conversations could also be harmful in today's time, but that's my personal opinion. I think if it was going to be thrown out in favor of the happy ending near the end, that it would have been better to just not include it at all. There's nothing wrong with showing a character is struggling with their sexuality, it happens and it's valid, but the religious talking points felt harmful and just unnecessary when it ended up basically disappearing at the end?

I would definitely recommend this! It was a pleasant surprise that I really enjoyed!

The Vibes:
-Forced Proximity
-Almost Paranormal Romance
-Only One Bed
-Popstar x Scientist
-Neurodivergent Rep

[Sara]

Just in time for spooky season, The Invisible Roommate is the latest fun and quirky book from Timothy Janovsky.

Gerard is a burnt out pop star on the run. Hot off the heels of his latest world tour with his band (think Jonas Brothers), Gerard leaves everything behind and runs away to the remote New England island sung about in an old favorite song of his, Iping Island.

After renting an apartment and trying to lay low, Gerard, now going by his middle name James, starts noticing oddities. Like when he tossed all the stuff from the former tenant onto the curb one night only to wake up the next day to everything being back in his apartment. After coming back home earlier than usual one day, he discovers he has a roommate. An invisible one.

Emory is a singularly focus scientist and former PhD student who has been obsessively researching invisibility for years. After successfully turning himself invisible, however, he must find a way to turn himself back and prove his success to all his doubters.

Overall, this works as a light, fun romance. But Gerard’s oddly placed religion subplot just felt off and made me itchy. As a kid who grew up in a church, the priest brushing off and general irritation at Gerard’s questions was all too familiar. “Just trust in Him and all is well.” These scenes just stood out as very set apart from the tone and uplifting feel to the rest of the book and others I have read from this author.

Something that didn’t work for me personally ally was the amount of “fade to black” and jump cutting throughout the book. Not just in the romance, but in general there would be a lot of build up to something interesting and then suddenly it would cut to later that day or the next day. These felt abrupt and out of place and made the pace feel choppy and uneven.

I generally enjoy the quirky, suspend your belief style of humor Timothy Janovsky brings to his books. This was a quick read (read it in a day) and I mostly enjoyed my time.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing me an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

[liv]

What a cozy, sweet read for those looking for an unusual kind of meet cute. The Invisible Roommate is a book to decompress, Although hard decisions need to be made, the author doesn't portray any of these occasions as something that could cause anxiety to the reader and that carries across the reading very easily and lightly, the type you can do it in one sitting, which I did!

What made me like the most about this book was the neurodivergent representation and the very natural way with which trauma in general was brought up. You can tell it hurts and you can tell the characters have to learn to deal with that and to move on, it doesn't take over the story but to get to the other side they have to face this along with facing what they feel for each other amidst their very peculiar situation.

Second to that but just as important to me was how the author showed us what community can do for you. Sometimes in life you just need a couple people that will listen and believe you and offer you a shoulder, whether that's in a church choir or on a crab-catching boat.

I was enjoying their dynamics so much I wish it took them a little longer to fall for each other, but I understand why it happened the way it did. Two solitary men that needed real, human connection, falling in love was Inevitable and the writing flowed so well that the fast pace became just a small detail to me.

Overall, I came out this book feeling like this is q book for those who have never felt like they belonged and yearned for that feeling for a long time. We all deserve to be understood and to be treated with kindness and softness as we walk through life and try to find our place in life. Just keep holding on, sometimes love finds you on a small island when you least expect it.

Thank you to NetGalley, the publisher, and Timothy Janovsky for providing me with this eARC.

[Molly]

Timothy Janovsky is able to inject so much heart into such outlandish situations, and The Invisible Roommate is no exception. I tore through this book in one sitting.

Gerard Wells is tired of the fame that comes with being a Member of the boy band We the Wells with his brothers, and decides to hide out on a small island he heard about in a song. Emory Griffin is a scientist trying to prove the impossible after being booted from his PhD program. After he becomes desperate to continue his research, he winds up invisible to hide from the local police. After Gerard rents the apartment Emory is secretly still living in, they have to learn how to live together in close quarters.

I loved the character development in this book, as it really felt like both characters grew so much. Gerard learned to find balance in both music and religion (although I will say personally, I was not super into the religious bits, but that’s more a personal taste than anything), and learned that he could make his needs clear and people would listen. Emory learns to work through his abandonment issues, and that when you learn to be vulnerable, more people can catch you when you fall.
Janovsky is also fantastic at establishing an overall environment and vibe that make his books excellent seasonal reads. I loved the small town vibes and all the characters that come with it.

Overall, this was a very sweet read, and I think anyone who enjoys Janovsky’s other works will likely appreciate this one. It definitely cements him as an author I want to read more of in the future!

I received an advanced copy of this book for free in exchange for an honest review, thanks to NetGalley & the publisher.

[Katie's]

Unfortunately, I find this as Janovsky's weaker books.

Gerard Wells is the youngest member, and brother, of the pop band We the Wells. After years of album recordings, would tours, and sold-out arenas, Gerard is done being in the spotlight. Running away to a small island, to live in hiding until he figures out what he wants to do next. But the small room he rents is not only full of the belongings of its precious tenant, it turns out that the tenant might not have fled as everyone thought.

Emory Griffin can't rely on much, but he can rely on science. After bouncing through the foster system and losing his scholarship at the University of Health and Science, Emory finds himself in a remote island village, hoping to complete his life's work. When misunderstandings lead to a warrant for his arrest, Emory does the only thing he can think of to stay out of jail-- turn himself invisible.

I liked the premise of this book, The Odd Couple meets ___. But the characters fall flat, leaving the potential unfortunately unmet. Emory constantly calls himself a monster, yet is really just a grouchy jerk. Until he and Gerard "come to an understanding" and they're perfectly cordial. And Gerard is written to be autistic, often citing a diagnosis he's hidden from his family. But he doesn't read as particularly neurodivergent, even when his "quirks" are shoehorned in. The legal danger that Emory faces is blown way out of proportion, a simple misdemeanor being treated by all as a horrific felony.

Overall, it's not a *bad* read. I'd give it a 3-3.5. Just not quite up to the caliber of Janovsky's previous books.

I recieved this book as a digital advanced reader copy from NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.

[Maria Viale]

This was a little different to what I was expecting! Not in a bad way.

The Invisible Roomate is a contemporary romance following Gerard, a world-famous singer who runs away to a little coastal town, and his unexpected (and invisible) roommate, Emory, who is a defamed scientist on the run from the law. I know it's literally in the title, but I really was not expecting him to be an actual, invisible roommate. This was really nicely paced. The relationship between Emory and Gerard felt like it made sense through every step of their journey and companionship. I really loved both of these characters, Gerard's kindness and the trajectory of Emory's healing from such a traumatic childhood, being abandoned, being outcast, and how the world has convinced him that he's this strange and awful monster. I empathized with him so much and loved seeing how his friendship and trust in Gerard helped heal a lot of his wounds.

I do think there were some moments were the story lost focus a little bit, and it felt a tiny bit scatter-brained. As a queer person with Catholic/religious trauma, I can appreciate the religious elements, the doubts in faith. But I couldn't understand how it was relevant to the story or Gerard's character arc. I also appreciate the neurodivergent themes and representation, but sometimes with something like this, it's easier to show the reader how this has impacted the character's life instead of telling them. It would have felt more natural.

Overall though, I really enjoyed this one. It felt really unique and really tender and loving!

[Laura Chambers]

The Invisible Roommate is a sweet and a bit silly book that takes place around Halloween. The Invisible Roommate is a stand-alone and works wonderfully. Most of the story takes place on a tiny island, so of course you are introduced to a lot of great side characters.

Gerard is a famous musician who has run away from his band and all the fame to Iping Island. He has no plan or any idea what he’s going to do.

He rents a room from Regina as the first thing he does. While getting settled in, Gerard gets an eerie feeling like someone is watching him. Then he starts to experience odd things, like the trash he put out is mysteriously back. Regina confirms weird things have been going on lately on the island.

It’s not a ghost at all. It’s a person who has gone invisible named Emory.

Emory is a PhD candidate whose sole focus is science and his work on invisibility. He’s so focused that he forgets his classes. His advisor tells him to stop doing research into invisibility but he continues on anyway. When he gets found out he loses his scholarship for school which is how he found his way to Iping Island. My first impression of Emory was he’s a jerk.

I love a few things in particular about this book: how Emory being invisible forced him and Gerard to learn about each other, how everything is possible and leads to Iping Island, and how Emory has to become invisible to finally be seen.

Steam: 2/5
Fun: 4/5
Overall: 4/5

Thanks to NetGalley and St. Martin's Griffin for providing an ARC and this is my honest review.

[Gina]

“It’s just…it’s torture when the thing you love the most in the world turns into the thing that gives you the most anxiety.”

Thank you to St. Martin’s Press for the eARC in exchange for an honest review!

I will always read anything Timothy Janovsky writes. I know exactly what I’m getting into in the best way, and I have always loved the characters and stories he creates. And this one was no different.

The story follows Gerard who is struggling with fame and the pressure of being in a band with his brothers. He runs away to a remote island hoping no me will recognize him. He rents a small apartment where strange things keep happening. Emory has always been buried in his research and never expected to be the test subject for his invisibility research. He didn’t expect to have a roommate, but he and Gerard learn to share the space. The more time they spend together and their closeness sparks feelings they didn’t see coming.

I loved Gerard and Emory and the way their relationship unfolds. Gerard has hid his neurodivergence from his family and he felt himself buckling under the pressure of the band. He finds solace on the island and with Emory. For Emory, his research is everything to him but it cost him his scholarship. It takes him time to warm up to Gerard but once they find common ground their relationship blooms.

This is such a fast-paced romance that just kept me engaged the whole time. I read it in one sitting. It hits all the note I love about romance, especially as these characters learn and grow throughout. The supporting characters on the island are so great and quirky, and manage to add so much to the story. I just loved this and I love that my collection of books by Janovsky keeps growing.