Picking Daisies on Sundays by Liana Cincotti Book Review
- Danielle Robinson
- Mar 27
- 4 min read
A Tender, Aching Romance About Being Seen
Love, in this story, isn’t something loud or showy. It’s subtle, watchful, and really heartfelt—the kind that sticks around in lingering looks, memories, and those tiny details someone remembers about you long after you think they’ve moved on.
That feeling shapes everything in Picking Daisies on Sundays by Liana Cincotti.
Daisy Maria walks through life with a gentle touch that’s both lovely and a bit fragile.
She has this strong belief in love that leaves her open—always hoping, always reading into things, always wondering if she’s just a bit out of reach from the life she’s pictured for herself. When she says yes to fake-dating Levi, her ex-best friend and first crush, it’s not just a handy plot twist. It’s her way of returning to something unresolved, something that never got properly sorted out.
Sure, the set-up—fake dating, being close, old feelings coming back—is familiar, but reading it doesn’t feel like ticking boxes. What Liana Cincotti does brilliantly is shift the focus from what’s happening to how it feels as it all plays out.
Daisy’s written with a kind of emotional honesty that moves into your thoughts. Her self-doubt isn’t over the top or thrown in just for drama—it’s quiet, persistent, and so relatable you can’t help but get her, even when she’s being a bit frustrating. She’s always questioning herself, quietly weighing up her worth, and carrying the feeling of not being picked in a way that’s painfully recognisable.
And then there’s Levi.
He’s definitely idealised—but not in a way that rings hollow. His presence is all about paying attention. He notices Daisy. He remembers things about her. He gets her in a way that feels really intentional, not just luck. The romance isn’t built on big gestures, but on that steady belief that truly knowing someone is its own kind of intimacy.
That’s what gives their relationship its emotional tug.
The writing leans into this atmosphere completely. It’s gentle, sensory, and almost dreamy—packed with light, flowers, colour, touch. Everything feels a bit heightened, like it’s all seen through Daisy’s emotional lens. Moments hang around. Conversations stretch out. A look means something. It creates a reading experience that’s immersive, not rushed, where the emotional moments matter more than the nuts and bolts of the plot.
And it works.
There’s also an undeniable and quietly persistent ache running through the whole book—shaped by miscommunication, timing, and the delicate nature of what goes unsaid.
The gap between Daisy and Levi isn’t caused by some huge blow-up, but by something gentler: misunderstanding, assumptions, and the stories people tell themselves when they don’t have all the facts.
Some readers might find that frustrating.
But for me, it felt real.
People do this. They hold back. They misread things. They protect themselves when they should speak up. And this book leans into that reality instead of smoothing it over just to make things easier.
What caught me off guard, though, was the sense of hope that sits underneath everything.
It doesn't shout, but it builds quietly, almost without you noticing, until you realise it’s been there all along. The idea that maybe love wasn’t as one-sided as you thought. That someone might have seen you more clearly than you ever let yourself believe. That the story you told yourself about being overlooked wasn’t the whole picture.
By the end, the tropey structure fades into the background. What sticks around is the feeling—the softness, the tenderness, the sense that something gentle has been treated with real care.
This isn’t a book trying to reinvent romance.
It’s a book that knows exactly what romance readers are after—and delivers it with real sincerity.
It’s warm. It aches. It’s quietly indulgent in the best possible way.
And I absolutely loved it.
Picking Daisies on Sunday — Liana Cincotti
Pages: 352 (varies by edition)
Genre: New Adult Romance, Contemporary Romance, Romantic Comedy
Tropes: Fake dating; childhood best friends to lovers; second chance romance; slow burn; miscommunication; first love; forced proximity; emotional healing; yearning & longing
Publisher: Forever (Hachette Book Group)
Release Date: 17 February 2026 (traditionally published edition)
ISBN: 978-1538779255
RRP (Australia): Paperback: $22.99–$24.99 AUD
eBook: $14.99 AUD
Formats Available: Paperback, eBook, Audiobook
Where to Buy: Available via Amazon AU, Booktopia, Dymocks, Apple Books, Audible, and independent bookstores across Australia.
Danielle Robinson is a literary critic, writer, and interior curator whose work explores the relationship between literature, home, and heritage through a reflective lens. Holding a double degree in philosophy and theology, she brings academic rigour to her writing alongside a cultivated, deeply aesthetic sensibility. Danielle is an internationally published, multi-award-winning makeup artist and former fashion stylist and interior stager, with over 30 years’ experience shaping visual and cultural spaces. She reads widely and rigorously, reviewing more than 200 books each year as both an ARC reader and commissioned critic. Through her platform and podcast, Silk & Sentences, she considers literature not simply as text, but as atmosphere—something that informs the way we live, curate, and remember. She writes from her meticulously curated rural Queensland home, where she lives with Alex, her husband of 33 years, her dog, Oscar, and surrounded by family & close friends at every opportunity.
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