Find Me Love

by Kimberly Cooper Griffin

264 pages, Paperback

Published September 15, 2026

About the author

Kimberly Cooper Griffin lives in Denver, Colorado. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys a variety of interests. But, at the core of it all, she has an insatiable desire to connect with people and experience life to its fullest. She believes in love at first sight, happily ever afters, that not every story needs a third-act breakup, and a romance isn't complete without a four-legged companion. Her novels explore the complexities of building relationships, communication, and finding balance when life has other ideas.

KimberlyCooperGriffin.com

Reviews

[Lady Olenna · Rating 2 out of 5]

The story started off promisingly - plausible and relatable. However, I noticed that the characters’ actions/scenes and physicality were surrounded by abstract concepts and I found difficulty holding on to the tether of the point of a scene. An example would be the supposed climax of the story. In all honesty, that was the single most anticlimactic scene I have read to date.

In summary, the essence of the story had a good foundation, however, the abstraction of it all overwhelmed the majority of the story which consequently cost my suspension of disbelief.

[Talisha · Rating 2 out of 5]

Thank you Netgalley for providing a copy of this book for me in exchange for an honest review

Find Me Love was such a frustrating read for me because the concept had so much potential. The blurb immediately grabbed my attention, and the paranormal/fantasy idea was actually what made me want to pick this book up in the first place. I also absolutely loved the prologue, which pulled me straight into the story and made me excited to see where it would go.
Unfortunately, after the prologue, my reading experience became a bit of a roller coaster. There were moments where I really enjoyed the story and others where I found myself struggling to connect with it, particularly because I felt that some of the elements I was most interested in weren't given enough development.

🔮 Quick Spoiler-Free Premise
Find Me Love follows a supernatural love story built around a fascinating paranormal concept, with Louvre and Desiree at the centre of it. The book explores love, connection, obsession and the consequences of forces that are much bigger than the characters themselves.

The paranormal/fantasy side of the story was easily the part I enjoyed most. There was a really interesting idea underneath everything, and I genuinely wanted to learn more about the world and how everything worked.

👥 Characters
This was probably one of my biggest struggles.

I didn't feel that there was enough character description or backstory early on, which made it difficult for me to become emotionally invested in the characters. More character development did come later, and I actually really enjoyed seeing how some of the characters developed, but by that point I already felt quite disconnected.

Louvre and Desiree's POVs were also difficult for me to distinguish because their voices felt quite similar. There were several occasions where I found myself having to work out whose POV I was reading, which made it harder for me to form a strong connection with either character.

Stella was probably my favourite character, and I think that's largely because she felt like one of the most developed characters to me. I found myself much more invested in her compared with some of the others.

I also really enjoyed Roy and some of the character development that came later. My biggest frustration is that I wish I'd been given more of this much earlier, because I think it would have made a huge difference to how invested I became in the story.

✍️ Writing Style
One thing I can definitely say is that this book is beautifully written in terms of description.

There were some really lovely descriptions throughout, and I could appreciate the author's ability to create a vivid and sensual atmosphere through the writing.

However, beautiful writing wasn't enough to keep me invested when I was struggling with the characters and plot. For me, the prose was one of the strongest aspects of the book, even though the overall story didn't work for me.

🌙 World-Building & Atmosphere
The paranormal/fantasy elements were actually what I wanted more of.

I loved the underlying concept and found myself much more interested whenever the story leaned into its supernatural side. The idea itself was genuinely intriguing, and I think there was so much potential for the world to be explored further.

My issue was that I didn't feel there was enough world description or explanation early enough in the story. I wanted to understand the world and its rules more because, honestly, that was the part I was most interested in.

🔥 Plot & Pacing
This is where my enjoyment really became inconsistent.

The biggest issue for me was the amount of sexual content. I personally found it overwhelming, to the point where I ended up skipping some scenes because there was simply more of it than I wanted from the story.

For me, this meant that the romance sometimes overshadowed the paranormal plot, character development and world-building — the elements I actually found most interesting.

Towards the end, I also struggled much more to follow the plot. The story didn't flow as well for me and the pacing felt less cohesive, which made it difficult to stay invested in where everything was heading.

Unfortunately, I also didn't connect with the ending and didn't find it particularly satisfying.

🖤 Emotional Impact & Themes
I think the biggest disappointment for me is that I wanted to love this more than I did.

The premise had genuinely captured my attention, and I could see the potential in the paranormal story underneath the romance. I just didn't feel emotionally connected enough to the characters for the relationship to have the impact I think it was intended to have.

I think more early character development, stronger differentiation between the POVs and more focus on the paranormal elements could have made a huge difference for me.

💭 Criticisms
My main criticism is ultimately execution rather than concept.

I loved the idea behind this book, but I needed more character development and world-building earlier in the story. By the time I got the development I was looking for, I had already become quite disconnected from the characters.

The amount of sexual content was also too overwhelming for my personal reading preferences and, for me, took attention away from the parts of the story I found most compelling.

I also struggled with the similar POV voices, the flow of the plot towards the end and an ending that ultimately didn't work for me.

🌷 Final Verdict
Overall, Find Me Love was a book where I loved the potential much more than the execution.

The concept was what initially drew me in, and I genuinely think there is a fascinating paranormal story underneath everything. The writing was beautifully descriptive, I loved the prologue, and Stella and Roy were characters I particularly enjoyed.

Unfortunately, I struggled to become invested in the characters because I didn't feel that enough of their personalities and backstories were established early enough. The similar POV voices made this harder, and the amount of sexual content became overwhelming for me and overshadowed the fantasy/paranormal elements I actually wanted more of.

My reading experience was very much a roller coaster — there were moments I enjoyed, followed by moments where I felt disconnected or struggled to follow the plot. By the end, I found the pacing and flow more difficult, and I ultimately didn't connect with the ending.

I don't regret reading it because the concept really was that intriguing, but unfortunately it didn't come together for me in the way I had hoped.

✨Overall Review
⭐️⭐️ / 5

One-word review: Potential ✨
Favourite character: Stella 🌷
Favourite element: The paranormal/fantasy concept 🔮
Vibe: Beautifully written, intriguing concept, but an overwhelming romance and a plot I struggled to connect with.

[Demetri Papadimitropoulos · Rating 3 out of 5]

Be Careful What You Manifest, Especially About Your Future Daughter’s Love Life
Kimberly Cooper Griffin’s “Find Me Love” grants two mothers’ romantic wishes with contract-lawyer precision and leaves their daughters to sort out the supernatural fine print.
By Demetris Papadimitropoulos | September 4th, 2026

Desire is easy to mistake for intimacy, especially in romance, where being wanted often arrives prepackaged as proof of being lovable. Kimberly Cooper Griffin’s “Find Me Love” takes that equation literally and then makes it miserable. Louvre and Desiree can attract nearly anyone, which means nearly anyone can become too interested, too quickly, too completely. Their supposed gift turns attention into a hazard. To move through the world without triggering other people’s hunger, they learn distance, concealment, vigilance and the exhausting discipline of making themselves less available than they are.

Even before Griffin names the machinery behind this condition, she understands its consequence: being noticed has become unsafe. Louvre and Desiree are not lonely because nobody sees them. They are lonely because seeing so easily curdles into wanting. When they finally approach one another at a summer-solstice gathering, the first astonishment is not lust but quiet. The background pressure of everyone else’s desire falls away. For people accustomed to too much wanting, recognition registers first as relief. Their romance begins not with another sensation added, but with one intrusive sensation disappearing.

More than two decades earlier, their mothers, Jane and Linda, meet at a women’s music festival, take mushrooms, flirt, make wishes for future daughters and unknowingly give those wishes supernatural force. They want girls who will never struggle to be loved, girls to whom desire will come easily, girls who will find profound connection. The universe responds with the tact of a contract lawyer. By adulthood, Louvre and Desiree are almost universally desirable and nearly impossible to approach. A blessing has been fulfilled with every important word technically correct and the meaning mangled.

Erotic recognition follows quickly. Griffin has no interest in making these women spend two hundred pages pretending not to want each other. They feel one another before they know one another’s names; their first sexual encounter arrives almost immediately; their bodies become, for a while, the book’s most fluent language. The speed works because the novel has already taught us what bad desire feels like. Louvre does not merely want Desiree more than she has wanted anyone else. She experiences Desiree’s wanting as responsive rather than invasive, something she can answer rather than endure. Hunger remains hunger. What changes is that neither woman disappears inside the other’s appetite.

Touch carries more weight here than heat level. Griffin writes bodies through water, sparks, skin, breath, pressure and enough electricity to keep a small grid humming. Sometimes the language is more abundant than exact, but the sensuality has a job beyond arousal. Both women have spent years treating proximity as risk; skin-to-skin contact becomes a way to discover what safety feels like in the body. Their best love scenes are rehearsals for a new condition: wanting someone without having to brace against being wanted back. Their magical access to each other’s feelings makes consent almost suspiciously frictionless, but Griffin knows that certainty and entitlement are not the same thing.

Recognition does not stay private for long. Jane and Linda begin recovering memories of each other. Stella, Louvre’s closest friend, proves to have been guarding more than the espresso machine. Rory arrives with explanations. The daughters learn that their private strangeness belongs to old witch lineages, that their childhoods were manipulated, that they are Balance Keepers, and that their bond has consequences beyond two women trying to keep their hands to themselves long enough to finish dinner. The romance opens into family history, magical inheritance and, eventually, the maintenance schedule of the universe.

If the opening conceit is admirably clean, the mythology that follows is less disciplined. Louvre and Desiree do not merely turn out to be witches. They are prodigies, heirs to immense inherited power, preternaturally accomplished in their ordinary careers and eventually revealed to possess something close to universal magical capacity. The taxonomy keeps growing: Watchers, banishment spells, witch types, light-dark ratios, time manipulation, cosmic equilibrium. None of this is fatal, but a novel about two women burdened by excess desire begins burdening them with excess distinction as well. Another superlative is not always another complication.

Part of the middle’s drag comes from how that mythology is delivered. At the large scale, Griffin has built a satisfying circle: the mothers’ wishes in the prologue create the daughters’ predicament, the daughters spend the novel discovering what those wishes did, and the climax returns to the originating moment with the possibility of revision. Chapter by chapter, revelation often arrives as a meeting. Characters gather. Rory explains. Somebody asks for clarification. Stella translates. Another answer produces another set of questions. The book jokes about yet another living-room briefing, but self-awareness is not compression. Eventually the mystery begins to feel less discovered than administered.

As the explanations accumulate, one fact turns out to matter more than most of them: Louvre and Desiree’s guards worked. Those barriers were not irrational habits waiting for love to knock them down. They were sensible responses to lives in which openness genuinely carried danger. Both women learned to suppress, withdraw, conceal and monitor themselves because closeness had consequences. Griffin’s sharper move is to let those defenses remain useful long enough that their later cost feels earned. Circumstances change first. The body, and the magic built around it, lag behind.

Protection becomes obstruction. Their magical connection is supposed to circulate power between them, but years of defensive practice interfere with that flow. Louvre accumulates more than she can safely hold. The “darkness” she fears is reframed not as proof that she is becoming evil but as a sign that too much has been trapped where it cannot move. This is where the fantasy finally earns its elaborate vocabulary. The metaphor is almost blunt, but the emotional logic is exact: a wall does not become harmless merely because the threat on the other side has gone. Sometimes survival leaves architecture behind.

Another measure of the book’s intelligence comes when Desiree finally tells the family what she and Louvre have endured: the unwanted attraction, the isolation, the inability to name their powers, the years of hiding. Nothing is fixed. Nobody produces a spell or a revelation large enough to solve it. They simply believe her. The burden becomes shareable before it becomes solvable. That modest shift gives the later magic a human scale. Help begins when experience no longer has to remain privately unbelievable.

Desiree changes how Louvre reads herself in the art studio, where Louvre confronts paintings she has come to despise, works saturated with darkness and with anger she could not admit toward a mother who refused to acknowledge the inexplicable parts of her life. Desiree notices that Louvre has already done on canvas what she cannot yet do internally: give darkness depth without treating it as corruption. The scene needs no cosmic briefing. Paint does the work that several pages of lore elsewhere struggle to do. Griffin is especially persuasive when she lets an image carry an argument without standing beside it to explain the luggage.

If access is Griffin’s stylistic strength, annotation is its shadow. She writes in close, colloquial first person, full of quick self-corrections, profanity, teasing and candor. A feeling may be shown through touch, voiced in dialogue, transmitted through the magical bond and then interpreted once more for certainty’s sake. Louvre and Desiree are warm company, but their alternating narrations share enough rhythm and vocabulary that the dual perspective seldom creates productive friction. The prose almost never leaves an emotion illegible. Occasionally it keeps the porch light on after everyone has already come inside.

Metaphors do more useful work when Griffin allows them to turn literal. Heat, current, sparks, light, darkness, water and touch begin as familiar romantic language and gradually become facts of the magical world. Energy really moves. Darkness really accumulates. Connection really behaves like a conduit. Even “balance,” which initially risks sounding like scented-candle metaphysics, becomes something the characters can mismanage with bodily consequences. The device is simple and effective: figurative language quietly becomes infrastructure.

Intimacy, not dread, governs the tone. Cosmic peril is repeatedly brought down to human scale by wine, sex jokes, family teasing, work, food and Stella’s irreverence. That keeps the book from going solemn under the weight of its own cosmology, though it also means catastrophe rarely gets to keep a straight face for long. Louvre’s darkness remains unnerving because it is private and immediate. The Universal Balance, by comparison, sometimes sounds like an agenda item everyone will return to after dessert. Warmth is one of Griffin’s gifts; here and there she cushions danger so thoroughly that it stops leaving a bruise.

The last act takes the book’s largest gamble by refusing to treat the women’s suffering as sacred merely because it shaped them. Once Louvre and Desiree understand that their guards and the original attraction wish have produced the imbalance, the answer is not better coping. They consider altering the past itself, returning to Jane and Linda’s wish and removing the part that made attraction radiate outward while preserving the deeper bond between the daughters. The solution is extravagant, but it follows the novel’s emotional diagnosis: if the injury came from the conditions, change the conditions.

Rewriting that history could have invalidated the novel behind it. If hundreds of pages have taught us that pain helped form these women, a last-minute correction risks turning the preceding life into a discarded draft. Griffin avoids the cheapest version of that maneuver through double memory. In the revised timeline, the attraction curse is gone, the girls grow up together, Jane and Linda remain together, and Rory and Stella help train the daughters from childhood. But Louvre and Desiree remember both lives. The new history is kinder. The old one still belongs to them.

One of the ending’s better ideas follows from that division. “Find Me Love” does not insist that the original suffering was necessary because it produced resilience. Louvre can value the strength she developed without defending the conditions that demanded it. Repair does not require gratitude toward the wound. The revised timeline is almost suspiciously generous, returning lost childhoods, lost love and lost instruction in one sweep, yet the double memories prevent the old life from becoming disposable. The women keep what they learned. They are simply no longer required to keep paying for the lesson.

Predestination remains the novel’s unresolved pressure point. Griffin wants reciprocal love to differ morally from the compulsive desire that has plagued both women, yet Louvre and Desiree’s bond predates conscious choice, answers a lifelong sense of missingness, transmits emotion, survives altered histories and seems capable of drawing them together in any version of time. The book wants inevitability without coercion. It never quite solves that paradox, and I am glad it does not pretend to. Freedom here seems to reside less in choosing whether the bond exists than in deciding what neither woman will be asked to surrender inside it. A reader allergic to soulmate logic may still feel the universe’s thumb on the scale.

Once the taxonomy and cosmic bookkeeping recede, the book’s real success is intimate. Griffin takes the easy fantasy of universal desirability and follows it to an unexpectedly lonely conclusion: if everyone wants something from you, you may learn to become inaccessible even to yourself. Desiree matters not because she wants Louvre most, but because her wanting does not require Louvre to vanish. The romance is therefore less about locating the correct person than about recovering the ability to be reached without being overrun.

Underneath that success sits the novel’s persistent excess. “Find Me Love” does not need its heroines to be quite so accomplished, quite so cosmically appointed or quite so magically unlimited. Their first predicament already contains enough pressure. Griffin sometimes mistakes another superlative for additional depth, and the explanatory middle pays the bill. The excess is often charming, but it is still excess, like putting another chandelier in a room whose best feature is the window.

Largely because the original conceit survives everything piled onto it, I land at 79/100, or 3/5 stars. “Find Me Love” is affecting, sharper than its surface sometimes suggests and structurally bolder at the end than its middle promises. Its pacing slackens under explanation; its two narrators could be more distinct; its candor sometimes becomes overstatement. Still, the book keeps returning to the same worthwhile pressure: whether love can feel inevitable without becoming compulsory, and whether a person who has survived by closing herself off can learn to open without being consumed.

Only when all that machinery quiets does the reversal come fully into view. Louvre and Desiree begin as women the world cannot stop wanting and end by discovering that love is not an intensification of that condition but its opposite: a way of reaching another person without turning reach into possession. The wish worth keeping was never that everyone should want them. It was that, somewhere inside all that noise, they might still be able to hear each other.

[Mar · Rating 3 out of 5]

Find Me Love had such an interesting concept, and there were parts of this book I genuinely enjoyed. The prose is lush and often beautiful, and I loved the idea of two women whose magical connection allows them to experience each other's emotions so intensely. Louvre and Desiree's physical and emotional closeness was probably my favorite part of their relationship. There was something almost indulgent about the certainty and intensity of their connection, and those moments kept me invested even when other parts of the story weren't working as well for me.

Two of my favorite parts were the prologue featuring their mothers and the solstice gathering where Louvre and Desiree first meet. The prologue immediately pulled me in with two distinct characters and an intriguing magical setup. Then the solstice gathering captured something I wish I'd felt more consistently throughout the rest of the book. Louvre and Desiree's immediate connection was so intense that the entire encounter felt dreamlike—almost feverishly so. The atmosphere, attraction, and magic all blurred together in a way that made their meeting genuinely compelling.

Once the story moved beyond that initial connection, though, I had a harder time getting a clear sense of who Louvre and Desiree were individually. With both perspectives written in first person, their voices sometimes felt similar enough that I had to stop and remember whose POV I was reading. I wanted more time getting to know each woman separately so that their intense connection had an even stronger foundation.

The pacing was also difficult for me. The descriptions could be gorgeous, but there were so many of them that the story sometimes struggled to move forward. It took quite a while for the central conflict to become clear, and once it did, the amount of lore and explanation increased significantly. Despite all of that explanation, I finished the book still not entirely sure I understood the rules of the magic system.

Unfortunately, the climax was where the story lost me the most. After considerable buildup around a magical problem and its potential consequences, the resolution felt surprisingly anticlimactic. Part of that came from a significant piece of information being withheld from the reader even though the character who knew it was the POV character in the scene. Rather than feeling surprised by the reveal, I found myself wondering why I hadn't been allowed to know something the perspective character already did.

I also had mixed feelings about some of the family dynamics that developed toward the end. Everyone involved is clearly established as having their own origins, but the way the characters' lives and relationships eventually become so closely intertwined struck an odd note for me personally. Other readers may feel completely differently about that element.

There is a lot of imagination in Find Me Love, and I can absolutely see this working better for another reader. I loved the premise, some of the imagery was gorgeous, and I enjoyed the sheer intensity of Louvre and Desiree's connection. I just wanted stronger individual characterization, a clearer and more gradually integrated magic system, and a climax that delivered more fully on the stakes the story had established.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing an advance copy of Find Me Love in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

[carissa mae · Rating 1 out of 5]

Rating : ⭐️ | DNF at Chapter 20

Review:

I went into this novel excited at the premise of familial curses and how it would affect following generations, but I dont think it was executed in the way I had hoped.

We follow Louvre (Loo-vrah) and Desiree as they cope with this ability to feel emotions (to the extent of debilitation) and how this affects their everyday life. This ability (curse) that causes people to become obsessed with them if they make physical contact was brought upon them by their mothers, who had wanted their children to have an easier time forming connections with other people, but this seems to backfire for their daughters who have been unable to form connections until they meet each other.

I think the way their feelings are described and the buildup to their connection fall a little flat for me - as i was reading, the way the prose was written just didn’t convince me of the connection these characters were supposed to be feeling towards each other.

I also found it hard to follow along with the plot ad it seemed to lack a definitive structure and pace. There were also instances where scenes would be a bit over dramatic that it would pull me out of the story.

Sadly, I thought it best to DNF about half way through, but if it was just a bit more structured and the characters a bit more flushed out, the plot is promising and i think it could be a decent read.


Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

[LezLibros · Rating 5 out of 5]

A rather interesting and unusual read, but filled with passion and longing and love! I wasn’t sure what to expect, and the first few chapters were kind of confusing, but became clear the more I read. I really liked Desiree and Louvre and the connection they shared. It’s a fated mates kind of love, and the earthy, witchy vibes make this a read that will get you excited for fall! This book feels almost ethereal, and there is a lack of dialogue that contributes to that, but it perfect for the flow of the story. There is so much spice and sex and it’s actually a very beautiful and moving love story. However, trying to wrap to understand the “balance” and how Desiree and Louvre fit in the universe hurt my brain, and almost detracted from the overall pleasure of the reading experience. I feel like this should be a “vibes only” kind of read to really get the most enjoyment out of it. The writing is wonderful, the characters are a joy, and the sapphic love is passionate and plentiful.

[AJ Sneed · Rating 3 out of 5]

I usually enjoy Kimberly Griffin’s books, so I was disappointed that Find Me Love didn’t quite work for me.

The story started strong, and I was really interested in Jane and Linda’s dynamic. Unfortunately, once Desiree and Louvre were introduced, I struggled to follow the shifting POVs and often had to check the chapter headings to figure out whose perspective I was reading. Some of the lengthy dialogue also made the story difficult for me to get through.

The romance felt rushed, with immediate attraction and spice but not enough character development for me to become invested in the relationship. I kept reading because I hoped everything would eventually come together, but unfortunately, it never really did for me.

There were still moments I enjoyed, and Griffin’s writing kept me reading, but overall, this one fell flat. It just wasn’t my favorite, although I can see other readers connecting with the story more than I did.

[Claudia |✨Cushin Violeta's Bookish Realm✨ · Rating 3 out of 5]

Curses passed through generations and a secret that they didn't know about themselves.

The start pulled me in as we see Linda and Jane form an instant connection that is fiery as they meet at a music festival.
Easy talk gives way to letting go of inhibitions when they drink a so called herb tea that's definitely not herbs.

Wishes are made and on the most powerful solstice, without realising, they get their wishes fulfilled.

Fast forward now, their daughters meet and are instantly attracted to each other but more so feel strongly emotionally.

I was confused at first when the povs changed but got that the story follows Desiree and Louvre and the familial secret they are unaware of.

The concept is very interesting and intriguing and I enjoyed the part where we get a front row seat to their family history of magic and secrets.

But somehow, I didn't feel that connected to the story, although the premise is very interesting.

[Meghan · Rating 2 out of 5]

Usually I enjoy Cooper Griffin's books, but this one just fell flat.

It started off decently, but it was all just off. Immediate love and spice with no character development or background so you didn't invested in the story or the MC's relationship.

It didn't flow right even though the writing was pretty good. The story just didn't make sense and it was hard to grasp anything in this book. POV's were all over the place and it just took me out of the story. I almost didn't finish this book, but i pushed through hoping it would get better, but it didn't.

I received an ARC from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

[Tahlia · Rating 1 out of 5]

DNFed 60 pages in.
I was honestly just too bored to keep reading. Nothing was happening. It’s literally love and spice at first sight with the author trying to convince me that these two have this super powerful connection. But it’s difficult to care about their connection when I know absolutely nothing about these two characters. I could barely discern their POV’s from one another. The writing was overly dramatic and very repetitive.

Thanks to Netgalley and Bold Strokes Books for sending me an eARC to review.

[Vanessa · Rating 2 out of 5]

Thank you NetGalley for the advanced reader copy of the book!

I was very hopeful for this story and plot to pick up. I’m always one to want to support a sapphic life story, but throw some magic in and I’m a total sucker. Unfortunately, I was needing more from the character development to really move things forward. I felt like we didn’t quite get there even by the end.