May Flowers at the Three Coins Inn, by Kimberly Sullivan | Book Review

If you are longing for a holiday but are either too poor or too busy, Kimberly Sullivan’s May Flowers at The Three Coins Inn is an easy recommendation. This is comfort reading in its finest form, the kind of book you want to curl up with when the world feels like it’s in flames (so perfect for this year!). Having already read the second book in the series and reviewed it, Easter at The Three Coins Inn, I came to this one with high hopes. They were met.

Several very different people arrive at The Three Coins Inn, each in their own way stuck. There’s a young woman fleeing a very public romantic humiliation, an aging and once-celebrated artist who has retreated into bitterness and isolation, and a polished socialite whose picture-perfect life is starting to crack at the edges. Emma, who rebuilt her own life after it didn’t go to plan, runs the inn and watches it all unfold in the background. Spring is arriving in Todi—and just like flowers bloom after rain, so do the people.

Although obviously different in subject matter, this series is kind of similar to Bridgerton in that each novel has a new plot, but with enough continuity to keep returning readers happy. The guest roster of the book spans generations and social worlds in a way that gives the novel a pleasing range. If you don’t relate to one character, you surely will to at least one of them. Each storyline operates almost as a mirror to the others, and the alternating POV style continues to keep things fresh and the pacing solid.

The new guests are welcome additions. Lisa comes straight from her ex-fiancé’s wedding, where she publicly confronted him about giving up a semester abroad in Italy, transferring universities, and turning down a Chicago job for him. Her stay at the inn includes cooking classes, day trips to nearby Umbrian towns, and long reflections that force her to confront how much of her identity she built around someone else. 

Antonio’s storyline is rooted in regret and stalled creativity. A once-celebrated Milanese painter, he lives alone with a portrait of the woman he lost because of his ambition and pride. He travels to Umbria partly to escape his noisy apartment building and partly to break a creative block. At the inn, he begins sketching again and forms an unexpected connection with Josh, a boy whose enthusiasm for art contrasts with Antonio’s jaded outlook. 

The writing style is clean, accessible, and direct rather than stylistically showy. Sullivan favours clarity over ornament, allowing internal conflict to carry scenes. What the characters are going through is expressed in plain, cutting language. Nonetheless, there are plenty of beautiful descriptions of Italy, “The sun continued to glow down on the fields with its golden spring light.”

What ties it all together is Todi itself. Sullivan renders the town with affection. It never tips into travelogue territory, but you come away feeling like you’ve actually been somewhere. The seasonal metaphor running through the whole novel, April showers giving way to May flowers, is perhaps a touch on the nose, but it earns its place. For an indie publication, the production quality is once again impressive, too. The prose is clean, the pacing assured, and no single storyline dominates at the expense of the others.

The best part of the book is the relatability of the characters. They all feel like people you could meet in real life, and their problems do not feel manufactured, “Margherita slept well, but woke in terror. The thought of having to go down to the breakfast room and mingle with fellow guests, to have a quip or witty word at the ready was too much to bear.” It’s a nice break from The White Lotus, where most of the characters are either despicable or stupid.

If there are quibbles, they’re minor. Some of the peripheral characters feel more functional than fully fleshed out, and the romantic elements remain firmly secondary to the personal growth arcs, which is worth knowing if you come to this genre primarily for love stories. The pacing dips slightly in the middle as the storylines occasionally tread water before moving forward, and there’s little in the way of action or soap opera drama. But none of it significantly dents the experience, and actually it’s part of the charm.

May Flowers at The Three Coins Inn is a cozy, emotionally generous, and accomplished little book. Pour some Italian wine, find a comfortable chair, and let Todi do its thing. This is a warm and refreshingly unhurried read. It’s the kind of novel where dramatic plot twists take a back seat to small but meaningful shifts in perspective. Very little “happens” in the traditional sense, and that’s precisely the point. 

Final verdict: For fans of Maeve Binchy, Rosamunde Pilcher, and anyone who enjoys holiday-themed escapist reading with a bit of substance, this is an enormously relaxing and enjoyable read. A series I’ll be following with genuine enthusiasm.

You can preorder your copy of May Flowers at the Three Coins Inn here, out May 8! Thanks to the author for the ARC.