Lindsay MacMillan’s third novel and debut women’s fiction work, Summer on Lilac Island, is a tender exploration of the complexities that bind mothers and daughters together, even when they seem worlds apart. Set against the picturesque backdrop of Mackinac Island—reimagined here as “Lilac Island”—this story weaves together themes of homecoming, healing, and the courage to begin again at any stage of life.
The Story That Unfolds Like Island Fog
The narrative centers on Gigi Jenkins, a twenty-eight-year-old whose LA dreams have crumbled into unemployment and debt, forcing her reluctant return to the horse-and-buggy island she once couldn’t wait to escape. What awaits her is not just the familiar scent of lilac blooms and fudge shops, but a strained relationship with her mother Eloise that threatens to implode under the pressure of forced proximity.
MacMillan crafts a brilliant premise when both women, convinced they understand nothing about each other’s romantic lives, agree to play matchmaker. This seemingly simple arrangement becomes the catalyst for profound transformation, as Gigi finds herself drawn to James, the island’s new doctor, while Eloise discovers unexpected sparks with Clyde, a charming Scottish author writing about the island.
The beauty of MacMillan’s storytelling lies not in the romantic entanglements themselves, but in how these relationships become mirrors reflecting the deeper work each character must do. Gigi’s initial resistance to James stems from her pattern of running from anything that might require vulnerability, while Eloise’s connection to Clyde forces her to confront what she truly wants versus what feels safe.
Character Development That Rings True
Gigi: The Reluctant Homecoming Queen
Gigi emerges as a complex protagonist whose journey from cynical outsider to engaged community member feels authentic rather than contrived. MacMillan skillfully avoids the trap of making Gigi’s transformation too neat or quick. Instead, we watch her gradually shed her defensive armor through small moments—helping with her grandmother’s campaign, connecting with old friends like Lillian, and slowly allowing herself to believe that staying might not be settling.
Her relationship with James develops with delicious tension, built on their shared experience as outsiders who’ve found unexpected belonging on the island. MacMillan writes their chemistry with restraint that makes their eventual connection feel earned rather than inevitable.
Eloise: A Mother’s Second Act
Perhaps the novel’s greatest strength lies in its portrayal of Eloise as a woman worthy of her own love story. Too often in fiction, mothers exist primarily to serve their children’s narratives. Here, Eloise’s romance with Clyde is given equal weight and complexity. Her struggle between the security of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown resonates with anyone who’s ever wondered if it’s too late to reinvent themselves.
The ending of Eloise and Clyde’s relationship—where love isn’t enough to overcome fundamental incompatibilities—shows MacMillan’s mature approach to romance. Not every love story ends in union, but that doesn’t diminish its value or the growth it facilitates.
The Supporting Cast That Enriches the Narrative
MacMillan populates her island with a rich ensemble that never feels extraneous. From Gigi’s politically ambitious grandmother Alice to the mysterious Lillian carrying her own secrets, each character serves the larger themes while maintaining their own distinct voice. Even minor characters like the charming rogue Officer Ronny feel fully realized rather than simply functional.
Writing Style That Captures Island Rhythm
MacMillan’s prose has a conversational warmth that mirrors the close-knit island community she’s created. Her writing style shifts subtly between characters—Gigi’s sections crackle with sharp observation and defensive humor, while Eloise’s chapters flow with the measured rhythm of someone who’s learned to be cautious with her heart.
The author’s background in contemporary romance shows in her ability to craft scenes that sizzle with tension while maintaining the emotional depth that women’s fiction demands. The near-kiss scene between Gigi and James in the lake demonstrates this perfectly—all the chemistry is there, but so is the emotional weight that makes readers invest in the outcome.
Themes That Resonate Beyond the Island
Mother-Daughter Relationships Reimagined
The evolution of Gigi and Eloise’s relationship from adversarial to collaborative forms the novel’s emotional core. MacMillan explores how adult children and their parents must learn to see each other as whole people rather than just family roles. The scene where they stay up late waiting for each other to return from dates beautifully captures this shift from mother-daughter to friends.
The Pull of Home vs. The Call of Adventure
The novel grapples seriously with questions of ambition versus belonging. Gigi’s assumption that staying on the island means giving up her dreams is challenged when she discovers ways to contribute that feel meaningful. Her decision to run for mayor isn’t a consolation prize but a recognition of how leadership can take many forms.
Love at Different Life Stages
By giving equal narrative weight to both Gigi’s and Eloise’s romantic journeys, MacMillan makes a strong statement about women’s worth and desire across generations. Eloise’s relationship with Clyde isn’t portrayed as a “late-in-life” romance but simply as romance, full stop.
Where the Story Occasionally Stumbles
While Summer on Lilac Island succeeds admirably in most areas, it occasionally falls into familiar patterns that prevent it from being truly exceptional. The political subplot involving Gigi’s mayoral campaign feels somewhat underdeveloped, serving more as a plot device than a fully explored element. Similarly, some of the island traditions and characters can veer toward the overly quaint, though MacMillan usually pulls back from full caricature.
The pacing in the middle third slows somewhat as MacMillan juggles multiple storylines, and readers may find themselves more invested in either Gigi’s or Eloise’s journey rather than feeling equally drawn to both. The novel also occasionally relies on misunderstandings and near-misses that, while well-executed, follow predictable patterns.
MacMillan’s Growth as a Storyteller
Having transitioned from contemporary romance (The Heart of the Deal, Double Decker Dreams) to women’s fiction, MacMillan demonstrates impressive range. Her ability to maintain the warmth and chemistry that made her romance novels appealing while deepening the emotional complexity shows a writer hitting her stride.
The novel’s structure, alternating between multiple perspectives, showcases MacMillan’s growing confidence with ensemble storytelling. Each voice feels distinct, and the technique serves the themes rather than simply showing off literary technique.
Similar Reads for Different Moods
Readers who enjoy Summer on Lilac Island might appreciate:
- Nancy Thayer’s Nantucket series – for similar island settings and multigenerational family dynamics
- Debbie Macomber’s Blossom Street novels – for the community feel and women’s friendships
- Susan Mallery’s Mischief Bay series – for the blend of romance and women’s fiction
- Kristin Hannah’s Summer Island – for the mother-daughter reconciliation theme
- Mary Alice Monroe’s Lowcountry Summer trilogy – for environmental themes and coastal settings
For readers seeking more complex literary fiction with similar themes, consider Anne Tyler’s Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant or Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge.
The Verdict: A Warm Embrace of a Novel
Summer on Lilac Island succeeds as both satisfying summer reading and meaningful women’s fiction. MacMillan has created a world that feels lived-in and characters whose growth feels genuine. While it may not break entirely new ground in terms of plot or themes, the execution is skilled enough to elevate familiar elements into something that feels fresh.
The novel’s greatest achievement is its portrayal of women supporting each other across generations and life stages. In an era when women are often pitted against each other in fiction, MacMillan offers a vision of feminine solidarity that feels both aspirational and achievable.
This is comfort reading of the highest order—the kind of book that reminds us why we fell in love with women’s fiction in the first place. It’s perfect for readers seeking stories about second chances, family bonds, and the courage to bloom where you’re planted, even when the soil isn’t what you expected.
MacMillan has established herself as a voice worth following in women’s fiction, and readers will likely find themselves eagerly anticipating her next exploration of love, family, and the places that shape us into who we’re meant to become.
