The Open Era by Edward Schmit

A stunning debut about grief, identity, and a love story worth rooting for.

The Open Era caught me completely off guard. Edward Schmit has written something that feels both intimate and expansive—a story about grief, mental health, identity, and the loneliness of professional tennis that just happens to have one of the most compelling romantic subplots I have encountered in a long time.

Austin Hardy is one of my favorite characters of the year and I would protect him at all costs. Told entirely from his POV, his journey through the US Open feels completely immersive. The way his anxiety disorder is portrayed is honest and never sensationalized, and watching him navigate the weight of being the first openly gay man to compete in a Grand Slam—while also carrying his grief over losing his father—made me fiercely protective of him. His family and coach are all trying their best and that dynamic added real warmth to the story.

Diego Cruz is a source of equal parts joy and anguish. Their playful and tender moments together are wonderful, and the push and pull created by the tournament itself generates the kind of angst that had me completely invested. The mixed signals and looming showdown across the net made every interaction between them feel charged.

A note for romance readers: this book does not end in a traditional HEA. But the grand gesture that closes the story hints strongly at one, and Austin’s journey is so complete and satisfying on its own terms that I was not too mad about it.

This one is absolutely worth your time.