Dramas & Plays
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When in Rome: A Novel
Opposites certainly attract for the stranded pop star and small-town baker in this charming slice of romance from the author of the TikTok sensation The Cheat Sheet.
"This modern take on the Hepburn classic Roman Holiday is a quick, fun, slow-burn rom-com."-Abby Jimenez, bestselling author of The Friend Zone
Amelia Rose, known as Rae Rose to her adoring fans, is burned-out from years of maintaining her "princess of pop" image. Inspired by her favorite Audrey Hepburn film, Roman Holiday, she drives off in the middle of the night for a break in Rome . . . Rome, Kentucky, that is.
When Noah Walker finds Amelia on his front lawn in her broken-down car, he makes it clear he doesn't have the time or patience for celebrity problems. He's too busy running the pie shop his grandmother left him and reminding his nosy but lovable neighbors to mind their own damn business. Despite his better judgment, he lets her stay in his guest room-but only until her car is fixed-then she's on her own.
Then Noah starts to see a different side of Rae Rose-she's Amelia: kindhearted and goofy, yet lonely from years in the public eye. He can't help but get close to her. Soon she'll have to return to her glamorous life on tour, but until then, Noah will show Amelia all the charming small-town experiences she's been missing, and she'll help him open his heart to more.
Amelia can't resist falling for the cozy town and her grumpy tour guide, but even Audrey had to leave Rome eventually.
"This modern take on the Hepburn classic Roman Holiday is a quick, fun, slow-burn rom-com."-Abby Jimenez, bestselling author of The Friend Zone
Amelia Rose, known as Rae Rose to her adoring fans, is burned-out from years of maintaining her "princess of pop" image. Inspired by her favorite Audrey Hepburn film, Roman Holiday, she drives off in the middle of the night for a break in Rome . . . Rome, Kentucky, that is.
When Noah Walker finds Amelia on his front lawn in her broken-down car, he makes it clear he doesn't have the time or patience for celebrity problems. He's too busy running the pie shop his grandmother left him and reminding his nosy but lovable neighbors to mind their own damn business. Despite his better judgment, he lets her stay in his guest room-but only until her car is fixed-then she's on her own.
Then Noah starts to see a different side of Rae Rose-she's Amelia: kindhearted and goofy, yet lonely from years in the public eye. He can't help but get close to her. Soon she'll have to return to her glamorous life on tour, but until then, Noah will show Amelia all the charming small-town experiences she's been missing, and she'll help him open his heart to more.
Amelia can't resist falling for the cozy town and her grumpy tour guide, but even Audrey had to leave Rome eventually.
Editorial Reviews
"Sarah Adams's books are woven with pure sunshine and rainbows. Perfect for fans of Abby Jimenez and R. S. Grey, When in Rome is a slice of delight that will leave you smiling until your face hurts. It's everything you could want in a small-town romance, along with a heaping dollop of her signature wit and sparkling charm."-Amy Lea, author of Set on You
"My Audrey Hepburn–loving heart is so happy! When in Rome is a delectable romance, sweet and satisfying as a slice of warm apple pie."-Chloe Liese, author of the Bergman Brothers series
"You can always count on a Sarah Adams rom-com to be equal parts funny, sweet, and swoony. When in Rome is all that and more with characters who will make you wish they were your friends, a quirky town you'll want to visit, and a romance you'll want to read again and again."-Sophie Sullivan, author of Ten Rules for Faking It
"Sarah Adams has written the Kentucky-set homage to Roman Holiday I never knew I needed. Full of cozy small-town vibes, a pie-baking hero (swoon!), and a slow-burn romance that will keep you flipping the pages, When in Rome is a charming and comforting escape."-Kerry Winfrey, author of Waiting for Tom Hanks
"My Audrey Hepburn–loving heart is so happy! When in Rome is a delectable romance, sweet and satisfying as a slice of warm apple pie."-Chloe Liese, author of the Bergman Brothers series
"You can always count on a Sarah Adams rom-com to be equal parts funny, sweet, and swoony. When in Rome is all that and more with characters who will make you wish they were your friends, a quirky town you'll want to visit, and a romance you'll want to read again and again."-Sophie Sullivan, author of Ten Rules for Faking It
"Sarah Adams has written the Kentucky-set homage to Roman Holiday I never knew I needed. Full of cozy small-town vibes, a pie-baking hero (swoon!), and a slow-burn romance that will keep you flipping the pages, When in Rome is a charming and comforting escape."-Kerry Winfrey, author of Waiting for Tom Hanks
Readers Top Reviews
Read With Suzie
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Steam Level: 🔥🔥 (closed door and fade to black sex scenes) Trigger Warning: brief mentions of Alzheimer's, cheating, and death of a parent Amelia "Rae" Rose is one of the biggest pop stars in the country. She should have everything she wants, but instead she feels like she's drowning and alone. So she decides to turn to the Audrey Hepburn film Roman Holiday for inspiration and takes off to the small town of Rome, Kentucky. It's there that her car breaks down in the front yard of Noah Walker- the town's handsome, broody pie maker. Noah's had his heart broken by a city girl before, and he's determined to keep Amelia at arm's length while she's in town. But it's hard to do that when she's staying in his guest room, befriending his sisters, and wearing his clothes. Soon it becomes hard for Amelia and Noah to deny their attraction to one another. But what will happen when she leaves to go on tour, and Noah is still in Rome without her? Sarah Adams has done it again! This was one of my most anticipated reads of 2022, and it did not disappoint. I loved how this had similarities to another favorite of mine- In the Weeds by B.K. Borison: small town, grumpy/sunshine, cozy vibes, and a burned out celebrity. It's very much its own story, though. Amelia and Noah were so good together. There was the perfect amount of tension as they tried, and failed, to fight their feelings. Noah was so wholesome and adorable while still being sexy and irresistible. And Amelia was such a lovable heroine who I couldn't help but root for. It's pretty easy to figure out the conflicts in the end, but that didn't make this any less enjoyable. I actually loved how it all played out and was so glad there wasn't miscommunication and unnecessary drama. I am looking forward to heading back to Rome to see Noah's sisters- and hopefully his friend James- fall in love next!
A Dillon
Okay. First of all, Sarah Adams can write my type of man so well! Her descriptions of Noah made him so appealing to me, and that’s a surefire way to get and keep me invested in a story. So while I obviously can’t identify with being a well known celebrity, I can definitely relate to having a desire to be left alone for a while. Amelia’s desires made total sense to me. I also thought the push and pull between Noah and Amelia was really nicely done too—so many times in books with this trope it feels like the chemistry is only physical, but I truly felt that it was more than that for these two. One more aspect that I thought was very authentic was the teasing relationships between Noah and his sisters—my husband has three sisters and they behave in much the same way. I loved the supporting characters and the resolution to Amelia and Noah’s unstoppable desire to be together. This was a wonderful book!
Jonann Sandvig
Sarah Adams' book When in Rome is a heartwarming novel. Set in a small town, the story provides a delightful romantic background for the plot. As a result of Adams' writing style, readers experience feelings and emotions alongside the characters. Anyone that loves an uplifting book sprinkled with humorous banter will enjoy it. Synopsis: Amelia Rose is known to the world as celebrity Rae Rose. After years of being in the spotlight, the talented pop star is burned out. Tired and needing a break, Amelia drives to Rome, Kentucky where her car breaks down in Noah Walker's yard. While Noah agrees to help Amelia get her car fixed, he makes it clear to her that he has no patience for celebrities. Can fate change Noah's mind? As well as it's loveable protagonists, When in Rome also features a colorful cast of supporting characters. Adam's description of everyday life in a small community felt relatable without being overdramatic. As with most romance novels featuring high profile characters, there is a certain suspension of belief needed to fully enjoy the book. Sarah Adams' book When in Rome is lighthearted and feels like a breath of fresh air. When in Rome by Sarah Adams is available on September 20th. Thank you, NetGalley and Random House Publishing Group - Ballantine, (Dell), for sharing this e-book with me. I had so much fun reading it!
Short Excerpt Teaser
Chapter 1
Amelia
This is okay, right? I'm okay?
I take a deep breath and wrap my fingers a little tighter around the steering wheel.
"Yes, Amelia, you're okay. You're fantastic actually. You're just like Audrey Hepburn, taking your life into your own hands, annnnnd . . . you're talking to yourself . . . so maybe not completely okay, but given the circumstances, semiokay," I say, squinting at the dark road outside my windshield. "Yes. Semiokay is good."
Except, it's completely dark, and my car is making this noise that sounds like loose coins tumbling around a dryer drum. I'm not a car whiz, but I'm thinking that's not a good sound for it to be making. My favorite little Toyota Corolla, the car that has been with me since I was in high school, the car I was sitting in when I first heard my song on the radio at age eighteen, the car that I drove to Phantom Records and signed my recording deal ten years ago is reaching its expiration date. It can't die, it still has the smell of my old volleyball kneepads ingrained in the fabric.
No, not today, Satan.
I rub the dashboard like there might be a hidden genie inside waiting to pop out and grant me three wishes. Instead of wishes, I'm granted the loss of cell service. The music I'm streaming cuts off, and my Google Maps is no longer registering the little arrow that's supposed to lead me out of this middle-of-nowhere-serial-killer-backwoods road.
Yikes, this feels like the start of a horror film. I think I'm the girl in the movie people yell "you're an idiot!" at, while popcorn crumbs leak from their greedy smiles. Oh geez, was this a mistake? I'm afraid I left my sanity back home in Nashville along with my iron gate and Fort Knox security system. And Will, my fabulous security guard who posts up outside my house and stops people from sneaking onto my property.
Earlier tonight, my manager, Susan, and her assistant, Claire, downloaded me with information about my upcoming, jam-packed schedule for the next three weeks before we leave on a nine-month world tour. The problem is, I just finished my last day of a grueling three-month tour rehearsal. Almost every day of the last three months has been dedicated to learning the concert choreography, stage blocking, solidifying the set list, rigorous exercise, and rehearsing the songs, all while smiling and pretending that inside I didn't feel like a rotting compost pile.
I sat silent as Susan talked and talked, her long, slender, perfectly manicured finger scrolling endlessly across an iPad screen full of schedule notes. Schedule notes I should feel excited to hear. Honored to have! But somewhere in the middle of it, I . . . shut down. Her voice took on the Charlie Brown wah, wah, wah tone and all I could hear was my own heart thumping in my ears. Loud and painful. I went absolutely numb. And what scared me the most was that Susan didn't even seem to notice.
It makes me wonder if I'm too good at hiding. My days go like this: I smile this way at this person and nod. Yes, thank you. I smile that way at that person and nod. Yes, of course I can do that. Susan gives me a script perfectly crafted by my PR team and I memorize it. My favorite color is blue, much the same as the Givenchy gown I'll be wearing to the Grammys. Why yes, I do owe much of my success to my loving and devoted mom. A day doesn't go by that I don't feel incredibly blessed to have this career and my amazing fans.
Polite, polite, polite.
A hot splotch of tears falls onto my thigh and I realize I'm crying. I don't think I'm supposed to be crying thinking of those things. I'm a two-time Grammy winner and I have a signed contract for ninety million dollars with the top record label in the business, so I shouldn't be crying. I don't deserve to be crying. And I definitely shouldn't be in my old car in the middle of the night driving frantically away from everything. The list of people I'll be letting down runs through my mind like a scroll, and I can barely withstand the guilt. I've never not shown up for an interview before. I hate disappointing people or acting as if my time is more valuable than theirs. At the start of my career I vowed I would never get a big head. It's important to me to be as accommodating as possible-even if it hurts.
But something about Susan's parting words tonight wrecked me. "Rae,"-because she prefers to call me by my stage name rather than my real name, which is Amelia-"you're looking tired. Get some extra sleep tonight so you won't be puffy in the behind-the-scenes photos of the Vogue interview tomorrow. Although . . . the exhausted look is trending again . . ." She looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling and I half expected God himself to beam down ...
Amelia
This is okay, right? I'm okay?
I take a deep breath and wrap my fingers a little tighter around the steering wheel.
"Yes, Amelia, you're okay. You're fantastic actually. You're just like Audrey Hepburn, taking your life into your own hands, annnnnd . . . you're talking to yourself . . . so maybe not completely okay, but given the circumstances, semiokay," I say, squinting at the dark road outside my windshield. "Yes. Semiokay is good."
Except, it's completely dark, and my car is making this noise that sounds like loose coins tumbling around a dryer drum. I'm not a car whiz, but I'm thinking that's not a good sound for it to be making. My favorite little Toyota Corolla, the car that has been with me since I was in high school, the car I was sitting in when I first heard my song on the radio at age eighteen, the car that I drove to Phantom Records and signed my recording deal ten years ago is reaching its expiration date. It can't die, it still has the smell of my old volleyball kneepads ingrained in the fabric.
No, not today, Satan.
I rub the dashboard like there might be a hidden genie inside waiting to pop out and grant me three wishes. Instead of wishes, I'm granted the loss of cell service. The music I'm streaming cuts off, and my Google Maps is no longer registering the little arrow that's supposed to lead me out of this middle-of-nowhere-serial-killer-backwoods road.
Yikes, this feels like the start of a horror film. I think I'm the girl in the movie people yell "you're an idiot!" at, while popcorn crumbs leak from their greedy smiles. Oh geez, was this a mistake? I'm afraid I left my sanity back home in Nashville along with my iron gate and Fort Knox security system. And Will, my fabulous security guard who posts up outside my house and stops people from sneaking onto my property.
Earlier tonight, my manager, Susan, and her assistant, Claire, downloaded me with information about my upcoming, jam-packed schedule for the next three weeks before we leave on a nine-month world tour. The problem is, I just finished my last day of a grueling three-month tour rehearsal. Almost every day of the last three months has been dedicated to learning the concert choreography, stage blocking, solidifying the set list, rigorous exercise, and rehearsing the songs, all while smiling and pretending that inside I didn't feel like a rotting compost pile.
I sat silent as Susan talked and talked, her long, slender, perfectly manicured finger scrolling endlessly across an iPad screen full of schedule notes. Schedule notes I should feel excited to hear. Honored to have! But somewhere in the middle of it, I . . . shut down. Her voice took on the Charlie Brown wah, wah, wah tone and all I could hear was my own heart thumping in my ears. Loud and painful. I went absolutely numb. And what scared me the most was that Susan didn't even seem to notice.
It makes me wonder if I'm too good at hiding. My days go like this: I smile this way at this person and nod. Yes, thank you. I smile that way at that person and nod. Yes, of course I can do that. Susan gives me a script perfectly crafted by my PR team and I memorize it. My favorite color is blue, much the same as the Givenchy gown I'll be wearing to the Grammys. Why yes, I do owe much of my success to my loving and devoted mom. A day doesn't go by that I don't feel incredibly blessed to have this career and my amazing fans.
Polite, polite, polite.
A hot splotch of tears falls onto my thigh and I realize I'm crying. I don't think I'm supposed to be crying thinking of those things. I'm a two-time Grammy winner and I have a signed contract for ninety million dollars with the top record label in the business, so I shouldn't be crying. I don't deserve to be crying. And I definitely shouldn't be in my old car in the middle of the night driving frantically away from everything. The list of people I'll be letting down runs through my mind like a scroll, and I can barely withstand the guilt. I've never not shown up for an interview before. I hate disappointing people or acting as if my time is more valuable than theirs. At the start of my career I vowed I would never get a big head. It's important to me to be as accommodating as possible-even if it hurts.
But something about Susan's parting words tonight wrecked me. "Rae,"-because she prefers to call me by my stage name rather than my real name, which is Amelia-"you're looking tired. Get some extra sleep tonight so you won't be puffy in the behind-the-scenes photos of the Vogue interview tomorrow. Although . . . the exhausted look is trending again . . ." She looked thoughtfully up at the ceiling and I half expected God himself to beam down ...
