Wallflower by Samantha Leigh: Soft Girls Deserve Loud Love, Too

You know that moment when a book doesn’t just hit — it lands? Like, in your chest, in your bones, in all the little places you forgot needed seeing? Wallflower by Samantha Leigh did that. Quietly. Tenderly. And then all at once.

And now I’m here, borderline feral, needing to talk about it like it’s my full-time job. Because yes, this book is hot — we’ll get to that, don’t worry — but underneath the spice and the slow-burn is a story that feels like a hand on your back whispering, “Hey, you’re allowed to take up space.”

So go ahead. Grab your emotional support tea (and maybe tissues). Let’s unpack the softness, the smut, the healing, and the heartbreak of Wallflower — because bestie, this one gets it.

Violet is the kind of heroine you want to wrap in a hug and also high-five. She’s quiet, sweet, and a little socially anxious — not because she’s weak, but because she’s spent her whole life putting herself last. She’s taken care of everyone, especially her sick father, and somewhere along the way, she forgot how to ask for what she needs.

But here’s the magic: she grows. Not in some explosive, dramatic makeover kind of way. Violet blossoms slowly, like the name suggests — and it’s beautiful. She starts showing up for herself. Speaking up. Choosing herself, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

And as someone who’s been That Girl™ — the peacekeeper, the one who overthinks everything and makes jokes to survive it — I felt so seen. Violet’s journey isn’t just relatable, it’s radical in the quietest, most powerful way.

Okay, listen. If emotionally repressed, ex-athlete, closed-off men with soft underbellies and permanent “don’t talk to me” energy are your jam? Chord is going to ruin you. (In the best way.)

He’s freshly retired from the NHL, licking old wounds, and just trying to disappear into his family’s ranch in Aster Springs. He doesn’t want help. He definitely doesn’t want company. And yet—in walks Violet, all shy smiles and quiet strength, and he doesn’t stand a chance.

What makes Chord work — what makes him hit — is that he’s not just a “grump with a heart of gold.” He’s a man who’s been told to push down every feeling he’s ever had, and now he’s trying to do better… but doesn’t know how.

Watching him thaw is so satisfying. He opens up piece by piece, each moment earned. He’s not perfect — but he listens. He shows up. And when he loves? Oh, honey. He loves hard.

The build-up in this book? Exquisite. Samantha Leigh knows exactly how to stretch a glance, a brush of hands, a shared blanket into a whole emotional experience. The tension isn’t just physical — it’s personal, and that’s what makes it hit so hard.

We’re talking:

• Forced proximity

• Grumpy/sunshine dynamics

• "We shouldn’t do this" energy that turns into "we’re absolutely doing this" energy.

  
  

The spice? Oh. Oh. Let’s just say by the time they kiss, I was clutching the book like it was the last piece of chocolate in the house.

The first time? It’s tender. It’s hot. It’s a full-body YES.

But here’s the kicker: the heat isn’t just for heat’s sake. Every spicy moment is rooted in trust, care, and mutual respect. It’s intimacy. Violet being worshipped, Chord being vulnerable — it’s sexy because it’s safe. And honestly, that’s what makes it unforgettable.

Spice rating: 4/5 — sensory, steamy, and deeply emotional.

At its core, Wallflower isn’t just about romance — it’s about belonging.

Violet finds a home not just in Chord, but in herself. She learns to ask for more. To take up space. To believe she deserves something beautiful, not just safe.

Chord finds someone who sees him past the fame and the trauma — someone who loves him without conditions. And let me tell you, watching that unfold? It was healing.

And then there’s the setting — the small-town, the ranch, the found family vibes. It all feels like a warm blanket on a cold morning. There’s a softness to this world, a kind of earned gentleness that makes every emotional beat land harder.

Wallflower is the kind of book that sneaks up on you. You think you’re just getting a steamy, swoony slow burn — and then suddenly, you’re feeling seen. You’re crying over a shy girl who learned to raise her voice. You’re falling in love with a man who finally lets someone in. You’re remembering that love doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.

It’s flirty. It’s healing. It’s cosy and courageous and hot as hell. And if you’ve ever:

• Shrunk yourself to keep the peace

• Wanted more but were too scared to ask

• Dreamed of a partner who would choose you in every room…this book is for you.

  
  

Tropes: 

Grumpy x Sunshine

Forced Proximity

He Falls First

Found Family

Soft Girl Power

Best Paired With: 

Rainy weather, your fave hoodie, and a playlist full of acoustic slow-burns and sad-girl bangers. (my favourite: Taylor Swift)

This book made me laugh. It made me cry. It made me want to call my therapist and say, “Hey, I think I just processed something via a romance novel?”

Read Wallflower. And when you’re done, come back and scream with me about Chapter [redacted].

I’ll be here. With tissues. And snacks.