‘Anchored Hearts’ Brings Cuban Culture, Cheeky Sizzle, and Island Flavor
Priscilla Oliveras’ Island Affair was a smash hit last year. In 2021, she brings the same heat and takes the reader on yet another wonderful journey.
When I read Priscilla Oliveras’ Island Affair last year, it skyrocketed her to my list of favorite authors. So when I was offered an advanced copy of the next book in her “Keys to Love” series—Anchored Hearts—I practically jumped with joy.
Reading a Priscilla Oliveras book is always a trip— literally. You are transported into her settings with such remarkable ease. This continues to be my favorite thing about her writing.
I was beyond ready to be steeped in her beautiful, moving prose and keen attention to detail. Both go hand-in-hand, taking readers to Key West and the story of Anamaría Navarro and Alejandro Miranda, offering a deeper look at the richness of Cuban culture.
Anchored Hearts, Family Drama, And The Journey Of It All
The second book in the series tackles the second-chance romance trope head on. Anamaría and Alejandro are sort of on-and-off-again lovers, with their history of dating for years and both of their families being best friends. Both of them have big dreams— Alejandro loves capturing photographs and Anamaría is a budding nutrition and fitness businesswoman with her own brand, AM Fitness.
Alejandro was more adamant about chasing his dreams right away, while Anamaría couldn’t find it in her to leave her island roots, and more importantly her family. Alejandro on the other hand has a complicated relationship with his home island, and moreover, his father—who doesn’t accept his dream.
Both of their hearts are anchored in different places, and so they split. When they reconnect, this realization still rings true.
With Alejandro finally stuck in one place due to an injury - and the pushiness of their Cuban mamís - the two are finally forced to confront just how they fell apart.
The Verdict
Slow burn romances are hard to tackle. Add the second-chance romance trope to that mix, and it’s even harder. Oliveras did a wonderful job approaching both of these tropes, but I did have a hard time believing in Anamaría and Alejandro’s connection without more substance to their previous time together.
I really enjoyed this book for the most part. The characters come off the page, Anamaría is determined and Alejandro is stubborn in an admirable way. But I felt like we were in the dark about their true connection aside from being told it was a magical first love that ended horribly. While the focus of this book is on their present relationship, or lack thereof, and that does make sense—I felt like without flashbacks or solid memories of their past, I had to make a lot of assumptions about what their connection was really like.
“They shared one common truth he hadn’t understood in his youth and could no longer discount: Like the mangrove forests growing in the salty waters of the FloridaKeys, Anamaría’s roots were complex, protective, life-giving, and strong. She was fully anchored here.”
When you pair this with how entrenched this story is with their respective families, it felt like it wasn’t entirely about Anamaría and Alejandro’s relationship. I was a bit surprised how and when they finally reconnected, and the ending seemed rushed to me.
I did, however, love the openness of it. I think since their past was so full of absolutes, it was refreshing to see them going with the flow. I just wish we had gotten more concrete romantic moments between them to present their relationship a bit more clearly.
Overall, this story is beautiful, and it speaks to the Cuban culture of family roots, connecting with one another, being drawn back to the familiar, and how chasing your dreams can be dangerous no matter where they take you—close or far from home. It’s also a reminder that it’s ok to follow your own path whether it’s predestined or created along the way.
