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PALM MERIDIAN BY GRACE FLAHIVE | PUBLICATION: JUNE 10, 2025 AVID READER PRESS | GENRE: FICTION / LGBTQ+ RATING: ★★★★✬ |
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A rollicking, big-hearted story of long-lost love, friendship, and a life well-lived, set at a Florida retirement resort for queer women, on the last day of resident Hannah Cardin’s life—for readers of Less and The Wedding People.
It’s 2067 and Florida is partially underwater, but even that can’t bring down the residents of Palm Meridian Retirement Resort, a utopian home for queer women who want to revel in their twilight years. Inside, Hula-Hoopers shimmy across the grass, fiercely competitive book clubs nearly come to blows, and the roller-ski team races up and down the winding paths. Everywhere you look, these women are living large.
Hannah Cardin has spent ten happy years under these tropical, technicolor skies, but after receiving a terminal cancer diagnosis, she has decided that tomorrow morning she will close her eyes for the very last time. Tonight, however, Hannah and her raucous band of friends are throwing one hell of an end-of-life party. And with less than twenty-four hours left, Hannah is holding out for one final, impossible thing…
Amongst the guest list is Sophie, the love of Hannah’s life. They haven’t spoken since their devastating breakup over forty years ago, but today, Hannah is hoping for the chance to give her greatest love one last try.
As Hannah anxiously awaits Sophie’s arrival, her mind casts back over the highs and lows of her kaleidoscopic life. But when a shocking secret from the past is revealed, Hannah must reconsider if she can say goodbye after all.
Spanning the course of a single day and seventy-odd years, and bursting with irresistible hope, humor, and wisdom, this one-of-a-kind novel celebrates the unexpected moments that make us feel the most alive.
It’s 2067 and Florida is partially underwater, but even that can’t bring down the residents of Palm Meridian Retirement Resort, a utopian home for queer women who want to revel in their twilight years. Inside, Hula-Hoopers shimmy across the grass, fiercely competitive book clubs nearly come to blows, and the roller-ski team races up and down the winding paths. Everywhere you look, these women are living large.
Hannah Cardin has spent ten happy years under these tropical, technicolor skies, but after receiving a terminal cancer diagnosis, she has decided that tomorrow morning she will close her eyes for the very last time. Tonight, however, Hannah and her raucous band of friends are throwing one hell of an end-of-life party. And with less than twenty-four hours left, Hannah is holding out for one final, impossible thing…
Amongst the guest list is Sophie, the love of Hannah’s life. They haven’t spoken since their devastating breakup over forty years ago, but today, Hannah is hoping for the chance to give her greatest love one last try.
As Hannah anxiously awaits Sophie’s arrival, her mind casts back over the highs and lows of her kaleidoscopic life. But when a shocking secret from the past is revealed, Hannah must reconsider if she can say goodbye after all.
Spanning the course of a single day and seventy-odd years, and bursting with irresistible hope, humor, and wisdom, this one-of-a-kind novel celebrates the unexpected moments that make us feel the most alive.
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"DESPEDIDA"
Some books don’t just tell a story—they unearth something. Like they reach into your ribs and tap your heart in a way that lingers, quietly messing with your perspective.
PALM MERIDIAN has that kind of undercurrent. There’s a strange and beautiful ache that lingers after finishing it. It’s the ache of witnessing a life unfold in quiet, intricate loops—of following Hannah Cardin through her final chapter, and all the ones that shaped it. The way time folds in on itself, how memory and desire blur, and all those silences between the lines that say so much more than the dialogue ever could. When something like that lands hard, it can leave you feeling sort of… hollow and hyperaware at the same time. The novel’s heart is anchored in 2067 Florida, yet it drifts freely through time, memory, and meaning. Hannah’s decision to meet death on her own terms, refusing to let cancer dictate her ending, is not presented as tragic—but as an act of radical love and clarity. She is surrounded by beautiful people with stories as tender and fierce as her own. Every one of them deepens the texture of this novel like brushstrokes on a canvas.
The pacing is slow, but it’s never aimless. It feels like a constellation drawn deliberately, each moment orbiting the next with intention. The narration is a kind of map —not the kind that gets you from A to B, but one that asks you to stop, look, and feel your way forward.
Despite its melancholic premise, the novel hums with life. Friendship, memory, love found and lost and found again—it’s all here, brimming and bittersweet. In this quietly dystopian future, people still choose to love, to dream, and to walk forward. And when love moves mountains to reach you at the end, what do you do with that? How does the one left behind continue?
PALM MERIDIAN didn’t leave me hollow —it left me full. Of ache, yes. But also, of warmth. Of light. Of a kind of peace.
Some books don’t just tell a story—they unearth something. Like they reach into your ribs and tap your heart in a way that lingers, quietly messing with your perspective.
PALM MERIDIAN has that kind of undercurrent. There’s a strange and beautiful ache that lingers after finishing it. It’s the ache of witnessing a life unfold in quiet, intricate loops—of following Hannah Cardin through her final chapter, and all the ones that shaped it. The way time folds in on itself, how memory and desire blur, and all those silences between the lines that say so much more than the dialogue ever could. When something like that lands hard, it can leave you feeling sort of… hollow and hyperaware at the same time. The novel’s heart is anchored in 2067 Florida, yet it drifts freely through time, memory, and meaning. Hannah’s decision to meet death on her own terms, refusing to let cancer dictate her ending, is not presented as tragic—but as an act of radical love and clarity. She is surrounded by beautiful people with stories as tender and fierce as her own. Every one of them deepens the texture of this novel like brushstrokes on a canvas.
The pacing is slow, but it’s never aimless. It feels like a constellation drawn deliberately, each moment orbiting the next with intention. The narration is a kind of map —not the kind that gets you from A to B, but one that asks you to stop, look, and feel your way forward.
Despite its melancholic premise, the novel hums with life. Friendship, memory, love found and lost and found again—it’s all here, brimming and bittersweet. In this quietly dystopian future, people still choose to love, to dream, and to walk forward. And when love moves mountains to reach you at the end, what do you do with that? How does the one left behind continue?
PALM MERIDIAN didn’t leave me hollow —it left me full. Of ache, yes. But also, of warmth. Of light. Of a kind of peace.
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About the Author:
Grace Flahive was born and raised in Toronto, Canada. She studied English literature at McGill University in Montreal before moving to London, UK, in 2014, where she’s lived ever since. Palm Meridian is her debut novel.
© Robin Silas Christian
*Simon & Schuster CA provided the ARC
in exchange for this unbiased review.
in exchange for this unbiased review.
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