Their scenes were independently interesting (for instance, Ezra dealing with racism related to being a Jew of color) but also essential to the plot, setting up the lifelong pull between Kimba and Ezra. I actually enjoyed reading Young Kimba and Young Ezra. She also makes every scene matter, which is a challenge in time-skip stories where we know where we’re going.

From the opening at Kimba’s father’s funeral, jumping back to their childhood, and then ahead to the present, the author creates narrative tension by avoiding infodumps, making us wait, wonder, and learn. After years of couples therapy to try to make things work, Ezra has begun the process of breaking up with Aiko when he meets Kimba again, as she presents him with an award from her family foundation. He also meets a photographer named Aiko and has a son with her. Ezra, meanwhile, becomes a PhD educator who founds a local private school for low-income kids. Her passion for her career has interfered with her personal life, something she has been willing to defer until a medical test reveals she is, at just thirty-seven, in perimenopause. Kimba becomes a political kingmaker, having recently managed the campaign for the newly elected U.S. Kimba and Ezra grow closer as they grow up, culminating in their first kiss in eighth grade – the same night the Stern and Allen parents fight, and the Sterns leave Atlanta, never to return.

His white Jewish mother and black non-religious father have recently moved to Atlanta, where the powerhouse Allen family are the first to help the Sterns feel at home. Kimba Allen meets Ezra Stern when they’re both infants. Well, guess what? It’s as good as everyone says. When I saw the buzz Queen Move was getting, I hoped it would be good, but I didn’t count on it. As a reviewer who drops in on Twitter, Goodreads, and the lot, I’ve grown accustomed to taking rave reviews for books with a grain of salt.

Queen move kennedy ryan