Lights Out

Lights Out is one of those books where trying to explain why you loved it makes you sound like you should probably clear your browsing history before continuing. We have a trauma nurse with some rather interesting fantasies, a tattooed cybersecurity expert with questionable boundaries, stalking, hacking, enough red flags to decorate a small country, and a cat named Fred who somehow manages to become one of the most important characters in the entire relationship. On paper, there are several points where I should probably be recommending therapy, better judgment, and possibly a restraining order. Instead, somewhere along the way, I looked at Josh and thought, Yep. That one. I’m keeping him. And considering I used to think the whole concept of having a Book Boyfriend was ridiculous, we really need to discuss how the hell that happened.

I went into Lights Out expecting a dark stalker romance with plenty of spice and at least a few moments where I questioned everyone’s judgment. I got all of that, but what I wasn’t expecting was to laugh as much as I did or become so genuinely attached to the characters. Beneath all the stalking, kink, cybercrime, and general behavior that would be a giant flashing NOPE in real life is a surprisingly sweet and funny romance between two people who are both a little weird, a little damaged, and somehow exactly the right kind of weird for each other. Navessa Allen manages to balance dark romance, romantic comedy, suspense, emotional vulnerability, and some seriously explicit spice without making it feel like five different books fighting for control of the same story.

Aly was immediately easy for me to like because she never feels like one of those FMCs who wanders blindly into danger while I sit there wondering whether basic survival instincts were excluded from her character development. She is a trauma nurse, independent, observant, capable of taking care of herself, and very aware that the world can be ugly. Her job has exposed her to some horrible things, and that experience is part of who she is without becoming her entire personality. She also knows that some of her fantasies are darker than what most people would consider conventional, but she doesn’t spend the book feeling ashamed of them or waiting for someone else to tell her what she should want. I really liked that about her.

Then we have Josh, and this is where things apparently went terribly wrong for me. This man has absolutely no business being as damn likable as he is. I am fully aware of the red flags. I see them. I’m simply choosing to admire the craftsmanship. He crosses boundaries, makes some seriously questionable choices, and proves rather effectively that excellent computer skills combined with obsession and too much determination can be a dangerous combination. But Josh is so much more than “the hot stalker,” and that is exactly why he worked for me.

Underneath the tattoos, hacking abilities, questionable morals, and intimidating appearance is an awkward, anxious, funny, surprisingly thoughtful man carrying some very real emotional baggage. His childhood and family history have had a huge effect on the way he sees himself, and one of the more interesting parts of his character is how much he questions whether there is something fundamentally wrong with him. That fear affects the way he looks at relationships, his own behavior, and even his ability to believe that he deserves something good. The book gives him enough self-awareness and vulnerability that I could understand him even when I certainly wouldn’t recommend using his choices as a guide to healthy dating.

I also appreciated that Aly isn’t dropped into his life as some magical cure for everything that came before her. Josh has already worked on himself. He has sought help, he has people in his life who care about him, and he has already spent time trying to understand himself before Aly ever enters the picture. She becomes important to his growth, but she isn’t responsible for creating it. That distinction mattered to me because there is a big difference between watching a relationship help someone continue growing and watching an FMC get handed a damaged man with the expectation that love and really good sex will somehow repair him.

The funny thing is that for all the darkness surrounding Josh, one of the biggest reasons I loved him was because he is an absolute freakin’ goober. The contrast between how intimidating he can appear and what is actually happening inside that man’s head is hilarious. He can look like someone you would cross the street to avoid while internally worrying about whether he said something stupid, wondering what Aly thinks of him, or becoming ridiculously invested in a cat. His POV was essential for me because it lets us see that contradiction. Without it, some of his behavior could land very differently, but once you are inside his head, you realize just how awkward, insecure, funny, and occasionally ridiculous he actually is.

And yes, we need to talk about Fred because apparently I also came out of this book emotionally attached to a fictional cat. Fred is technically a supporting character, but I refuse to treat him as one. Josh’s interactions with him reveal this unexpectedly soft side of his personality that tells us more about him than pages of explanation could have. Watching someone who spends so much time questioning himself form such a natural attachment to an animal was funny, sweet, and strangely meaningful at the same time. Fred deserves five stars of his own, and I will not be accepting arguments on this matter.

As much as I loved Josh individually, what really made the book work was Aly and Josh together. Their chemistry is obviously intense, but their relationship never felt like it existed solely because they wanted to rip each other’s clothes off. They genuinely enjoy one another. They make each other laugh, their banter feels natural, and they are both weird enough to appreciate the other person’s particular flavor of weird. There are moments of tenderness and vulnerability mixed into all the chaos, and those quieter pieces of their relationship were just as important to me as the attraction.

Aly has her own emotional walls too, which kept the relationship from feeling like all the character development belonged to Josh. She can be remarkably comfortable acknowledging what she wants physically while finding actual emotional vulnerability far more frightening. There is something very believable about being willing to entertain a dangerous fantasy while simultaneously being terrified of handing another person enough of your heart to actually hurt you. It gave her more depth and made their relationship feel like two complicated people figuring each other out rather than one damaged man being saved by a perfectly well-adjusted woman.

Of course, we cannot talk about Lights Out without addressing the fact that this is still a stalker romance. The premise is intentionally problematic, and nobody should pick this up expecting an instructional manual for healthy real-world courtship. If someone behaved this way toward you in reality, please do not tell the police that Sassy Reviews said it was romantic. What I appreciated within the fantasy, though, is that when Aly and Josh intentionally begin exploring some of the darker things they both want, communication and boundaries become important. The book can play with fear, stalking, primal dynamics, and dubious consent without pretending that limits suddenly stop mattering.

And then there is the spice because, good grief, there is spice. Lights Out does not hold back when it comes to the spice. It is explicit, kinky, and completely unapologetic about it, with plenty of heat throughout the story. We are dealing with mask play, primal play, fear play, knife play, breath play, gun play, and consensual dubious consent, among other things, so this is definitely not a book I would casually hand someone while saying, “Here, it’s a cute romance,” and then run away before they can ask questions. Please check the content warnings before reading because there is a difference between enjoying something safely on a fictional page and wanting to be blindsided by it.

For all that spice, though, I never felt like I was reading sex scenes with a plot occasionally interrupting them, and you already know how I feel about that. Give me all the spice you want, but there still needs to be a story worth reading underneath it. Lights Out gets that balance right. There is plenty of heat, but there is also character development, conflict, emotional investment, and an actual plot keeping everything moving. The spice is a major part of the story and Aly and Josh’s relationship, but it never becomes the only reason to keep turning the pages.

The plot also knows when the original premise needs to grow into something more. There are only so many ways you can play with the initial stalker dynamic before it starts becoming repetitive, and I was glad the story eventually widened beyond that without abandoning the characters and relationship that had already gotten me invested. As things progress, there are definitely a few moments that require a little suspension of disbelief, but honestly, they fit the slightly over-the-top personality of the story well enough that they never pulled me out of it. By then I was completely invested in Aly, Josh, and whatever chaos they were going to get themselves into next.

The dual POV helped enormously with that investment because I never felt like I only knew one half of the relationship. Aly’s perspective shows us how capable and perceptive she is, while Josh’s lets us see everything going on underneath that intimidating exterior. It also creates some of the funniest moments because these two can be completely convinced they understand what is happening while having absolutely no idea what the other person is thinking. The supporting characters help too. Josh’s friendship with Tyler feels like an actual friendship with history and loyalty behind it, while Aly’s coworkers and family connections make her feel like she has a life beyond the romance. Nobody feels like they were dropped onto the page solely because the main couple needed someone to talk to.

What I didn’t expect from Lights Out was how much I would actually care about Aly and Josh beyond all the humor, spice, and general chaos. Both of them are carrying things from their pasts that have shaped the way they deal with trust, family, relationships, and letting someone get close enough to really know them. Those parts of the story give them a depth I honestly wasn’t expecting when I first picked up a dark stalker romance. Navessa Allen still keeps things funny, but the humor never makes what Aly and Josh are dealing with feel unimportant. One minute these two had me laughing at how completely ridiculous they could be, and the next I was genuinely invested in them and wanted to see them figure themselves out.

And that brings me back to Josh, because this ridiculous man did something no fictional character had managed to do before him: he became my first Book Boyfriend. That is actually saying quite a bit because before Josh, I thought the whole idea of having a “Book Boyfriend” was ridiculous. I understood loving fictional characters, but actually claiming one as your boyfriend? Please. Apparently I owe everyone an apology because then Josh came along and suddenly I understood exactly what the hell everyone had been talking about.

The funniest part is that it wasn’t even the mask that did it for me. I know the whole masked-man thing is a huge part of Lights Out, but the mask itself did absolutely nothing for me. It was Josh. I fell for his humor, his awkwardness, his vulnerability, and that surprisingly sweet side of him I wasn’t expecting. More than anything, I loved the way his brain worked and the ridiculously lovable freakin’ goober underneath all those tattoos and red flags.

Josh is morally questionable and emotionally complicated, but none of that is what earned him the Book Boyfriend title. It was his personality. He could make me laugh one minute and make me want to hug him the next. Somewhere along the way, this fictional man completely won me over, and I didn’t even realize it was happening until it was too late. So yes, Josh gets a permanent spot around here. He was my first Book Boyfriend and the fictional man who made me eat every word I’d ever said about how ridiculous the whole idea of a Book Boyfriend was. I still think it’s ridiculous. I just have my own list now.

By the time I finished Lights Out, I had laughed, cringed, questioned more than a few choices, and become ridiculously attached to Aly, Josh, and, of course, Fred. What started as a dark stalker romance turned out to be far more fun, funny, and emotionally engaging than I expected. I cared about these characters, I enjoyed watching their relationship develop, and I was entertained from beginning to end. Even when things got completely chaotic, I was already invested enough that I was more than happy to see where the hell this story was taking me.

That is also why having the Collector’s Edition feels a little more special than simply adding another pretty book to my shelf. I love gorgeous editions as much as the next BookDragon, but pretty edges and fancy details only get a book so far with me. If I am going to collect a special edition, I want the story inside to mean something to me too, and Lights Out absolutely does. This is one of those books I can still think about and immediately remember exactly why I had so much fun reading it. Josh was already living rent-free in my head by the time I finished, so I suppose giving him premium shelf space was inevitable.

For me, Lights Out is an easy ★★★★★ with a 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ spice rating. Is every part of it completely realistic? Absolutely not, but I honestly didn’t care. I was too busy having a damn good time. It gave me darkness without making the entire reading experience miserable, spice without sacrificing the story, characters who made me laugh while still giving me reasons to care about them, and a romance that was much sweeter and more emotionally satisfying than I ever expected from the premise.

I loved Lights Out enough that I would absolutely recommend it. If dark romance, morally questionable characters, plenty of spice, unexpected sweetness, and a whole lot of chaos sound like something you might enjoy, click the Buy on Amazon link and grab your copy of the Collector’s Edition while supplies last. And if Josh ends up becoming one of your Book Boyfriends too, just know that I completely understand now.

Review By: SASSY
Owner • Creator • Queen of the Chaos
SassyReviews.com
Read, Reviewed, & BookDragon Approved… or Not.