My first DIK for 2026 and it’s a cracker! Dandelion is Dead is the début novel from Rosie Storey, and it’s complicated and literary and beautiful. Set in London, it has a very British messiness; the characters drink too much, use recreational drugs, cheat and lie and fall over, and are not only redeemable, but lovable as well.

Dandelion dies seven months before the novel begins and Poppy is bereft, so much so, she’s inconsolable in her grief. Dandelion was a few years older than Poppy and intensely protective of her younger and less confident sister:

Poppy was naturally fearful–she’d been born a shade dweller, sprouting in the shadow of her raucous sister.

Dandelion was successful in finance and left everything to Poppy, so money is not an issue, but Poppy has been slow to sort out Dandelion’s gorgeous flat. She visits it often but has not put it up for sale or rent, and when she smashes her phone, she takes Dandelion’s. Much of her the stuff on her sister’s phone is still current, which sets Poppy off in another grief spiral.

Then she checks in with a man her sister had matched with on a dating app – Jake, a single dad and filmmaker, who is reeling from his marriage breakdown, and is unmoored by a problematic childhood. He and Poppy arrange to meet for a drink, where Poppy pretends to be Dandelion, wearing her clothes and taking on some of her personality traits. They hit it off, but Poppy is not only misleading Jake, she is also in a long-term relationship with smug Sam, who is pushing to get married. Poppy has second thoughts and ghosts Jake, but their paths continue to cross in unexpected ways, and the lies and mess pile up as these two unlikely people fall in love.

The novel is divided into three parts: The Lie, More Lies, and The Truth – so the reader knows everything will get worse (much worse) before Poppy and Jake get together. The humour is raw and cringemaking at times, but illuminates that even the deepest grief has a funny side. Yes, reading this can be like watching a very slow train crash, but it’s beautifully written, the grief representation is messy and superbly done, and the characters are so deliciously awkward that they are very relatable.

Recent romance discourse has been about whether male main characters should be flawless, and Jake is the certainly not that. He’s impulsive, credulous, self-indulgent, romantic, lonely, full of unresolved childhood trauma, and a tiny bit silly. He’s also kind, funny, talented, earnest and self-aware. He is so imperfect that he’s also a wonderful match for Poppy.

When she looked at his face, he bent his head and kissed her on the mouth, and Poppy closed her eyes. It was only a few seconds, but she felt all that she was rise to the surface of her skin, and she knew herself and she knew him. When she opened her eyes—the world looked like morning. Like waking. Something of it was brand new.

When they are together, they are glorious, even though they both do terrible things to themselves and each other.

Dandelion is worth a mention. She was brave, mean, fierce and awful, but always, always, acting out of her love of her little sister. Poppy didn’t know the half of her experience, and yet they were as close as sisters could be. Secondary characters ring true, especially Jetta, bestie to both the sisters, and also Jake’s ex-wife, who is still angry with Jake for cheating, and is building a new life – but she and Jake are co-parenting little Billy so it’s complicated.

And Poppy? This book is a reminder that grief is wide-ranging. Poppy misses her sister like she’d miss a limb. This grief is self-destructive. It’s not curable, and can’t necessarily be therapised, it just takes time, and needs people who can keep her safe. If I have a quibble, it’s that the author takes a bit too long to get to The Truth, although this also feels deliberate: until Jake can sort himself out and Poppy has time to process Dandelion’s death, they can’t be themselves enough to be together.

Like Cara Bastone’s wonderful Promise Me Sunshine in 2025, Dandelion is Dead shows us that even in the midst of ghastly messy pain, it’s still possible to fall in love. Rosie Storey has written a most incredible début – it’s written so deftly that I can’t wait to read more from her. Dandelion is Dead is heart-breaking and terrific.