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Not the End: A Smart and Funny British Neighbours-to-Lovers Ice Hockey Romcom
455 pages, Kindle Edition
Published May 5, 2026
About the author
Rose McKittrick
3 books4 followersRose McKittrick lives in the East Midlands with her husband, three children, three guinea pigs, a cat, a dog and an axolotl. She works in marketing by day and writes funny, emotionally messy books about love, family chaos and people old enough to know better.
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
June 27, 2026
This book surprised me in ways I’m choosing to interpret as evidence of effectiveness.
Not the End is a midlife neighbours-to-lovers romance about grief, children, sex, emotional cowardice, domestic chaos, and the alarming erotic potential of a competent man fixing things near your house. On paper, this should have been entirely too sentimental for me. Widowed heroine. Former NHL goalie next door. Troubled teenagers. Guinea pigs. A puppy. Found family. Several tropes lined up at the start like suspects in an identity parade.
And yet it works.
The heroine, Cari, is difficult. I don’t mean “quirky difficult” or “adorably grumpy difficult”. I mean genuinely difficult. She is judgemental, socially avoidant, defensive, prickly, intellectually snobbish, and often so convinced she is being realistic that she misses how unkind she sounds. There were several moments where I wanted to climb into the book and tell her to stop making every interaction with another human being into a test they had already failed.
Unexpectedly, she is also one of the most convincing romance heroines I’ve read in a long time.
I believed her grief. I believed her numbness. I believed the ugly, half-resentful way she keeps functioning because there are children to feed, school emails to answer, pets to locate, and laundry baskets to shove out of sight. I especially believed her discomfort with being comforted. So many romances treat love as if it instantly makes a person fluent in vulnerability. This one understands that some people would rather chew through their own arm than be witnessed having feelings.
Adam, meanwhile, is exactly the sort of hero this genre loves: huge, emotionally generous, damaged in a masculine but repairable way, good with children, good with animals, good in bed, and apparently able to cook Christmas dinner at short notice. I should object to this. I do object to this. He is absurdly engineered. The man has been assembled in a lab from female search terms.
Still, he has enough flaws to avoid becoming a complete fantasy object. His hero complex is irritating. His parenting is patchy. His instinct to solve things can become overbearing. There are times when his desire to comfort Cari tips uncomfortably close to forcing intimacy on someone who has clearly said she wants space. The book seems aware of that, which helps, although I would have liked it pushed a little harder.
The children are one of the book’s strengths. Cat and Heath’s anxiety, awkwardness and teenage intensity felt convincing without turning them into plot accessories. Jack could have been unbearable in the wrong hands, but he mostly avoids becoming a sentimental small-child device. Dylan, however, is the standout. Every book of this type needs a chaos agent, and he is a very good one: funny, viciously loyal, too perceptive, and clearly one bad decision away from needing his own novel.
The writing is uneven in places. There are occasional moments where the emotional point is explained after it has already been shown. A few descriptions of Adam’s size and general sexual competence could probably have been rationed with more discipline. We understand he is large. We understand the cardigan is doomed to end up on the bedroom floor.
But when the book is good, it is very good. The best scenes are the domestic ones: awkward school mornings, wine-fuelled conversations, family dinners, badly managed desire, teenagers hovering in doorways, grief ambushing people through ordinary routines. That is where the book earns its emotional weight. It is at its most convincing when it lets people reveal themselves through small cruelties, bad jokes, practical help and who stays when things become inconvenient.
I did not always like Cari. I suspect I was meant to have complicated feelings about her. She is not softened into easy likeability, and that is probably why the romance works. Adam is not rescuing a sweet, wounded woman. He is choosing someone sharp-edged, clever, frightened, and frequently infuriating. The book understands that being loved is sometimes less about grand declarations and more about having someone learn the exact shape of your defences and come back anyway.
Yes, I had criticisms. It’s long for the genre. The pacing wobbles. Some conflicts resolve more neatly than real life would allow. Adam is, frankly, too good at too many things.
But I read it quickly, cared more than I expected to, and found myself thinking about it afterwards, which is usually where the argument ends.
A warm, messy, funny, rom com about starting again when you’re old enough to know reinvention is rarely easy. Occasionally over-engineered, but annoyingly effective.
Not the End is a midlife neighbours-to-lovers romance about grief, children, sex, emotional cowardice, domestic chaos, and the alarming erotic potential of a competent man fixing things near your house. On paper, this should have been entirely too sentimental for me. Widowed heroine. Former NHL goalie next door. Troubled teenagers. Guinea pigs. A puppy. Found family. Several tropes lined up at the start like suspects in an identity parade.
And yet it works.
The heroine, Cari, is difficult. I don’t mean “quirky difficult” or “adorably grumpy difficult”. I mean genuinely difficult. She is judgemental, socially avoidant, defensive, prickly, intellectually snobbish, and often so convinced she is being realistic that she misses how unkind she sounds. There were several moments where I wanted to climb into the book and tell her to stop making every interaction with another human being into a test they had already failed.
Unexpectedly, she is also one of the most convincing romance heroines I’ve read in a long time.
I believed her grief. I believed her numbness. I believed the ugly, half-resentful way she keeps functioning because there are children to feed, school emails to answer, pets to locate, and laundry baskets to shove out of sight. I especially believed her discomfort with being comforted. So many romances treat love as if it instantly makes a person fluent in vulnerability. This one understands that some people would rather chew through their own arm than be witnessed having feelings.
Adam, meanwhile, is exactly the sort of hero this genre loves: huge, emotionally generous, damaged in a masculine but repairable way, good with children, good with animals, good in bed, and apparently able to cook Christmas dinner at short notice. I should object to this. I do object to this. He is absurdly engineered. The man has been assembled in a lab from female search terms.
Still, he has enough flaws to avoid becoming a complete fantasy object. His hero complex is irritating. His parenting is patchy. His instinct to solve things can become overbearing. There are times when his desire to comfort Cari tips uncomfortably close to forcing intimacy on someone who has clearly said she wants space. The book seems aware of that, which helps, although I would have liked it pushed a little harder.
The children are one of the book’s strengths. Cat and Heath’s anxiety, awkwardness and teenage intensity felt convincing without turning them into plot accessories. Jack could have been unbearable in the wrong hands, but he mostly avoids becoming a sentimental small-child device. Dylan, however, is the standout. Every book of this type needs a chaos agent, and he is a very good one: funny, viciously loyal, too perceptive, and clearly one bad decision away from needing his own novel.
The writing is uneven in places. There are occasional moments where the emotional point is explained after it has already been shown. A few descriptions of Adam’s size and general sexual competence could probably have been rationed with more discipline. We understand he is large. We understand the cardigan is doomed to end up on the bedroom floor.
But when the book is good, it is very good. The best scenes are the domestic ones: awkward school mornings, wine-fuelled conversations, family dinners, badly managed desire, teenagers hovering in doorways, grief ambushing people through ordinary routines. That is where the book earns its emotional weight. It is at its most convincing when it lets people reveal themselves through small cruelties, bad jokes, practical help and who stays when things become inconvenient.
I did not always like Cari. I suspect I was meant to have complicated feelings about her. She is not softened into easy likeability, and that is probably why the romance works. Adam is not rescuing a sweet, wounded woman. He is choosing someone sharp-edged, clever, frightened, and frequently infuriating. The book understands that being loved is sometimes less about grand declarations and more about having someone learn the exact shape of your defences and come back anyway.
Yes, I had criticisms. It’s long for the genre. The pacing wobbles. Some conflicts resolve more neatly than real life would allow. Adam is, frankly, too good at too many things.
But I read it quickly, cared more than I expected to, and found myself thinking about it afterwards, which is usually where the argument ends.
A warm, messy, funny, rom com about starting again when you’re old enough to know reinvention is rarely easy. Occasionally over-engineered, but annoyingly effective.
July 10, 2026
I really enjoyed this book.. I kept wanting to pick it up. I can't pinpoint what the appeal was specifically but I enjoyed the author's writing, the touch on a variety of characters, the humor and wit. Overall, a good read and I would pick up a book from this author again.
May 24, 2026
This is a romance, yes, but it is also a book about grief, parenting, loneliness, second chances, found family, and fancying your neighbour when you’re trying hard not to.
Cariad Baker is a widowed historian trying to keep her family functioning after the death of her husband. She has two children, a stalled academic book, a stack of romance novels she is pretending are “research”, and very little interest in letting anyone new into her life. Then Adam King moves in next door: ex-NHL goalie, current ice hockey coach, tattooed menace, excellent cook, and guardian to a teenage boy who comes with his own damage.
Their first impressions are terrible, which is always a promising start.
What I liked most about Not the End is that it understands romance as something that happens alongside ordinary domestic mess. This is not a glossy fantasy where two attractive people flirt in a vacuum. There are school runs, anxious teenagers, an escaped guinea pig, broken fences, difficult exes, blended-family complications, Christmas logistics, and the constant background pressure of everyone trying to keep their lives from collapsing.
Cari is prickly, clever, judgemental, funny, and occasionally her own worst enemy. Adam is charming and infuriating in exactly the right proportions, with a history that makes his easy confidence more complicated than it first appears. Their romance works because it is built less on grand gestures than on repeated small acts of care: fixing things, making food, showing up, staying when it would be easier to retreat.
The supporting cast is unusually strong. Dylan, Cari’s brother, is a glorious menace and frequently walks off with any scene he’s in. The teenagers feel messy and convincing rather than plot accessories, and the wider friend-and-family circle gives the book a lived-in, chaotic warmth. The humour is sharp, very British, and often quite filthy (the kind where you laugh half from shock), but the emotional beats still land because the book never treats grief or parenting as decorative angst.
The book within a book writing subplot could have been cringe but it actually works, because Cari trying to work out what love and desire are on the page to avoid facing those questions in real life is very revealing. And the anticipation for the moment Adam realises she’s been writing about him is exquisite.
It is long. Very long. Some readers may want a tighter edit, and there are places where the domestic sprawl means the pace relaxes rather than races. Personally, I found that part of the appeal. The length lets the relationship breathe. By the end, you don’t feel as if Cari and Adam have simply fallen in love; you feel as if their lives have gradually knitted together.
A funny, sexy, midlife romance with real emotion under the humour. Come for the hot hockey coach next door; stay for the guinea pig, the furry gremlin rescue dog, the grief, the family complications, and the reminder that the happy ending is rarely the end of the story.
Cariad Baker is a widowed historian trying to keep her family functioning after the death of her husband. She has two children, a stalled academic book, a stack of romance novels she is pretending are “research”, and very little interest in letting anyone new into her life. Then Adam King moves in next door: ex-NHL goalie, current ice hockey coach, tattooed menace, excellent cook, and guardian to a teenage boy who comes with his own damage.
Their first impressions are terrible, which is always a promising start.
What I liked most about Not the End is that it understands romance as something that happens alongside ordinary domestic mess. This is not a glossy fantasy where two attractive people flirt in a vacuum. There are school runs, anxious teenagers, an escaped guinea pig, broken fences, difficult exes, blended-family complications, Christmas logistics, and the constant background pressure of everyone trying to keep their lives from collapsing.
Cari is prickly, clever, judgemental, funny, and occasionally her own worst enemy. Adam is charming and infuriating in exactly the right proportions, with a history that makes his easy confidence more complicated than it first appears. Their romance works because it is built less on grand gestures than on repeated small acts of care: fixing things, making food, showing up, staying when it would be easier to retreat.
The supporting cast is unusually strong. Dylan, Cari’s brother, is a glorious menace and frequently walks off with any scene he’s in. The teenagers feel messy and convincing rather than plot accessories, and the wider friend-and-family circle gives the book a lived-in, chaotic warmth. The humour is sharp, very British, and often quite filthy (the kind where you laugh half from shock), but the emotional beats still land because the book never treats grief or parenting as decorative angst.
The book within a book writing subplot could have been cringe but it actually works, because Cari trying to work out what love and desire are on the page to avoid facing those questions in real life is very revealing. And the anticipation for the moment Adam realises she’s been writing about him is exquisite.
It is long. Very long. Some readers may want a tighter edit, and there are places where the domestic sprawl means the pace relaxes rather than races. Personally, I found that part of the appeal. The length lets the relationship breathe. By the end, you don’t feel as if Cari and Adam have simply fallen in love; you feel as if their lives have gradually knitted together.
A funny, sexy, midlife romance with real emotion under the humour. Come for the hot hockey coach next door; stay for the guinea pig, the furry gremlin rescue dog, the grief, the family complications, and the reminder that the happy ending is rarely the end of the story.
May 12, 2026
Okay so I did NOT expect to be this obsessed with a book about adults with actual mortgages and children, but here we are.
Cari is honestly so funny because she acts like she hates everyone, but she’s actually just sad and awkward and scared of having feelings, which is extremely relatable. Adam is the hot hockey neighbour, obviously, but he’s also kind of a disaster in a way that makes sense. He cooks, he has tattoos, he tries really hard with the kids, and he keeps doing stupid things and then fixing them, which is basically all you can ask from a man.
The romance is cute but also messy because they both have loads of baggage and there are teenagers everywhere making everything worse. Cat and Heath were my favourites because their whole thing was adorable and stressful and I wanted to protect them both. Dylan was hilarious and every time he appeared I knew the scene was going to get better.
It’s funny, romantic, a bit sad, and weirdly comforting.
Cari is honestly so funny because she acts like she hates everyone, but she’s actually just sad and awkward and scared of having feelings, which is extremely relatable. Adam is the hot hockey neighbour, obviously, but he’s also kind of a disaster in a way that makes sense. He cooks, he has tattoos, he tries really hard with the kids, and he keeps doing stupid things and then fixing them, which is basically all you can ask from a man.
The romance is cute but also messy because they both have loads of baggage and there are teenagers everywhere making everything worse. Cat and Heath were my favourites because their whole thing was adorable and stressful and I wanted to protect them both. Dylan was hilarious and every time he appeared I knew the scene was going to get better.
It’s funny, romantic, a bit sad, and weirdly comforting.
June 29, 2026
It’s taken me a few weeks to put down in words how much I love this book. I love that this book is about people in their 40s. So many romances center on 18 to 25-year-olds which I surpassed 20 years ago. I love the fact that the characters were imperfectly perfect for each other. Adam’s super cheesy pick up lineafter their first kiss had me giggling so hard. And then he realized how dumb it was and made fun of himself about it later. This book is about two people, three children, one dog, and all of their previous baggage. Yet somehow, Love found them in the midst of the chaos. This is my favorite read of 2026. I loved it so much that I purchased the physical copy for my trophy shelf. I’m looking forward to many more books from this author and I have recommended this to my entire Book club
July 29, 2026
The characters had such incredible depth—nothing felt gratuitous or included just to move the plot along. Some readers might think the story is long, but every page felt necessary and completely absorbing.
The characters are so beautifully written, and every one of them has an important place in the story. I felt like I lived alongside them, experienced their emotions, and found myself cheering them on—all of them, the whole blended family.
This is undoubtedly one of the best books I’ve read in my eight years of using Kindle. I simply couldn’t put it down. Rose McKittrick is such a gifted writer in this genre.
I’ve just started Book 2, and I already know it’s going to be another emotionally intense journey.
On a side note, I’ve never left a book review before, but I just couldn’t not leave one for this. ❤️❤️❤️
The characters are so beautifully written, and every one of them has an important place in the story. I felt like I lived alongside them, experienced their emotions, and found myself cheering them on—all of them, the whole blended family.
This is undoubtedly one of the best books I’ve read in my eight years of using Kindle. I simply couldn’t put it down. Rose McKittrick is such a gifted writer in this genre.
I’ve just started Book 2, and I already know it’s going to be another emotionally intense journey.
On a side note, I’ve never left a book review before, but I just couldn’t not leave one for this. ❤️❤️❤️
July 6, 2026
DNF. Gave this a shot based on good reviews, but this didn't work for me. Slow start, didn't draw me in at all. The FMC comes off as mean, and unnecessarily harsh and judgmental, and the MMC's sisters seemed terrible on first impression. Maybe if I'd read more, everyone's personalities would have been explained or they'd have redeemed themselves in some way, but life's too short to read books where everyone sucks.
July 19, 2026
This was not the romance I expected, but I still enjoyed it.
Some bits were really funny, others were heartwarming and emotional.
The characters were messy, but still interesting to read about.
Some bits were really funny, others were heartwarming and emotional.
The characters were messy, but still interesting to read about.
August 8, 2026
A love story about characters in their 40’s, navigating life and children. A very sweet story.
July 12, 2026
Loved that the MFC is a 45 year old. All the feels.
July 1, 2026
DNF - stopper around 40% in
Not the End, has some good topics/tropes and fun humour in it. Unfortunately it didn't pull me in enough to keep reading.
One of the things I found distracting, the FMC, Carri, is writing a romance novel that is actually her life + fantasies. Which would have been fine if it showed a couple of sentences of the novel she is writing, but not whole pages. It is like reading a book inside a book, but both stories are actually the same, only uses different names.
Not the End, has some good topics/tropes and fun humour in it. Unfortunately it didn't pull me in enough to keep reading.
One of the things I found distracting, the FMC, Carri, is writing a romance novel that is actually her life + fantasies. Which would have been fine if it showed a couple of sentences of the novel she is writing, but not whole pages. It is like reading a book inside a book, but both stories are actually the same, only uses different names.
August 16, 2026
Couldn’t put this down.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews