I loved that this big, abrasive, gruff man cared about me so much that he tried to contain all that fierceness so as not to scare me or push me too far. But at the same time I hated that he felt he had to do that. That he thought I was so fragile. I wanted unedited, disinhibited Max. The rough, unapologetic Max.

Unperfect by Susie Tate is a deeply emotional, gritty, yet heartwarming contemporary romance that takes readers into the shadows of domestic violence and the difficult path towards healing and trust. It begins with Amelia Banks who hides under the alias “Mia Lantum” and arrives for a job interview at an architecture firm with nothing but a jar of peanut butter and a desperate determination to survive.

Having escaped an abusive marriage, Mia is wary of men, particularly the kind who embody strength and authority. Unfortunately for her, the firm’s owner is Max Hardcastle, the grumpy, brusque architect made famous for his bluntness on TV. To Mia, Max’s sheer size and intimidating presence are terrifying, but she has no choice but to take the job if she wants a chance at rebuilding her life.

Max is the kind of hero who sneaks up on you. Rough-edged and intimidating to most, he is also a man scarred by his past and burdened with responsibilities, including his troubled stepson. Though he initially regards Mia as a nuisance, he slowly begins to notice the fragility beneath her guarded exterior.

Mia, on the other hand, is a survivor who has endured unimaginable cruelty, and her wariness of intimacy makes her flinch at even the gentlest of touches. Watching these two navigate a relationship is as much about tenderness as it is about fire. Max may look like a grizzly bear, but he is exactly the kind of quiet strength Mia needs; a man whose protectiveness is matched only by his patience.

Mia’s past does not stay neatly behind her, and the added complication of her abusive husband being professionally linked to Max brings another layer of angst to their already fragile relationship. It is a conflict that heightens the stakes and underscores just how much Mia has to lose, while also giving Max a chance to prove his worth as more than just a protector.

What I loved most was Susie Tate’s ability to juggle heavy subject matter with humor and heart. She does not sugarcoat the devastation of domestic abuse, yet she writes characters so vividly that they leap off the pages. Max’s grumpy-sweet nature, Mia’s resilience, the banter with side characters like Yaz and Verity, and even the hilariously unexpected cameo from the Prime Minister and his wife; all of it added richness to a story that could have otherwise been unbearably heavy. The romance itself is beautifully balanced: tender, slow-burning, and ultimately very satisfying.

For me, this has been the best book I have read thus far in my Susie Tate binge following my discovery of her books. The sheer realism of the take on domestic abuse and Mia’s journey made this book worth every palpitation I suffered during the most difficult places. Max, in turn, was her perfect counterpart, steady and kind, just what the doctor ordered.

Recommended for: Readers who love romances with heavier themes, strong heroines who grow into their strength, and gruff heroes with a marshmallow core.

Final Verdict: Raw, heartfelt, and utterly unputdownable—Unperfect is Susie Tate at her best.

Favorite Quotes

“You’re right pretty, mind,” he whispered, then blinked as if he hadn’t meant to speak out loud. He cleared his throat, two flags of colour appearing high on his cheekbones. I was frozen in place, staring up at his beautiful face. The air around us crackled with that tension and energy from before. I was both equal parts terrified and exhilarated. His hand reached up to brush a lock of my hair behind my ear with a feather-light touch. A trail of fire was left in its wake as though he’d left a mark there.

“That’s your big secret, isn’t it?” she said.
“What’s that?”
“You – you’re kind. You’re a good man. You would never hurt me.”
“No, love,” I said softly, searching her face and pushing her fringe back from her forehead. “Not ever.”
“I really, really like you,” she said, giving me so much direct eye contact it was like a punch to the gut.
“I like you too, Mia,” I told her, my voice rougher than normal and my chest feeling tight.
“’s not real,” she whispered, as her eyelids fluttered closed.
“What?’
“’s not for me,” she said, her voice so faint it was a struggle to hear it. Her body went completely lax then and her eyes drifted shut.

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