Emily Wibberley and Austin Siegemund-Broka have carved out a distinctive niche in contemporary romance, and their latest offering, Seeing Other People, proves they’re not afraid to push boundaries. This paranormal romance asks a deceptively simple question: What if moving on from the past meant literally helping ghosts find peace? The answer unfolds in a story that’s equal parts heartwarming, humorous, and surprisingly profound.
A Premise That Haunts in the Best Way
Morgan Lane has a problem most people would consider impossible: she’s being haunted by Zach Harrison, a guy she went on exactly one date with before he died. The haunting isn’t the atmospheric, creepy kind—it’s the inconvenient, closet-rattling, date-sabotaging kind that turns Morgan’s already commitment-averse life into a supernatural comedy of errors. Enter Sawyer Wilson, a reclusive pottery artist who’s been living with his deceased fiancée Kennedy’s ghost for five years, unable and unwilling to let her go.
When Morgan and Sawyer meet at a support group for the haunted—yes, you read that right—they strike an unlikely deal to help each other solve their respective paranormal problems. What follows is a journey that transforms both characters in ways neither expected, forcing them to confront not just their ghosts, but the emotional baggage keeping them tethered to the past.
The premise walks a delicate tightrope between whimsy and genuine emotional weight. Wibberley and Siegemund-Broka treat their paranormal elements with a refreshing matter-of-factness that allows the story’s emotional core to shine through. The ghosts aren’t just plot devices; they’re catalysts for exploring grief, healing, and the courage it takes to open yourself to love again.
Character Development That Feels Earned
Morgan is a brilliantly crafted protagonist whose commitment issues run deeper than simple wanderlust. Her pattern of moving cities every few years, her collection of first dates that never lead to seconds, and her philosophy that “you can’t ruin everything if there’s no everything to ruin” all stem from genuine wounds. The authors skillfully reveal Morgan’s backstory through organic moments rather than info-dumps, letting readers understand why she’s convinced herself that impermanence equals safety. Her transformation throughout the novel feels authentic because it’s gradual—she doesn’t suddenly overcome years of self-protective behavior through one grand gesture.
Sawyer presents an equally compelling portrait of grief frozen in time. Living in the half-finished dream home he and Kennedy were renovating together, he’s literally surrounded by unfinished business. His inability to return to pottery, his withdrawal from friends and family, and his insistence that he likes his life with Kennedy’s ghost all paint a picture of someone who’s chosen stasis over the pain of moving forward. The dual perspective allows readers to see how both Morgan and Sawyer are essentially living as ghosts themselves—present but not fully alive, existing but not thriving.
The chemistry between them develops with careful precision. Their banter crackles with wit, but beneath the verbal sparring lies genuine vulnerability. The authors excel at creating moments of connection that feel both earned and inevitable, from shared conversations over mac and cheese to quiet revelations in a haunted hardware store.
Where the Book Stumbles
While Seeing Other People succeeds on many fronts, it’s not without its flaws. The pacing occasionally falters in the middle section, where the investigation into Zach’s unfinished business sometimes feels stretched thin. Certain plot developments, particularly around how the characters discover key information, rely on convenient coincidences that strain credibility even within the story’s supernatural framework.
The supporting cast, while generally well-drawn, occasionally feels underutilized. Zach, despite being one of the titular “other people,” sometimes serves more as comic relief than a fully realized character in his own right. His memories and personality feel somewhat inconsistent, though this is partially explained by the ghostly memory loss the book establishes. Kennedy, appearing primarily through Sawyer’s perspective and brief interactions with Morgan, remains somewhat enigmatic—though this may be intentional, reflecting how the living can never fully know the dead.
The novel’s treatment of grief, while largely sensitive and nuanced, occasionally veers into territory that might feel too neat for readers who’ve experienced profound loss. The resolution of certain emotional arcs, particularly Sawyer’s journey toward acceptance, happens with a swiftness that might not ring true for everyone. Grief is messier and more resistant to resolution than the book sometimes acknowledges.
Additionally, Morgan’s commitment issues, while well-explained, are resolved somewhat quickly once she decides to address them. The psychological patterns she’s spent years developing shift in a compressed timeframe that might benefit from more extended exploration.
The Garden as Mirror
One of the novel’s greatest strengths is its use of metaphor, particularly gardens and pottery. Morgan’s work as a landscaper becomes a lens through which to examine growth, change, and the beauty of impermanence. Sawyer’s pottery—abandoned for years after Kennedy’s death—represents creative expression frozen by grief. When these metaphors intertwine, they create a rich thematic tapestry that elevates the romance beyond simple relationship dynamics.
The authors demonstrate particular skill in crafting scenes set in gardens, from the nursery visits that reveal character depths to the climactic moments in Sawyer’s overgrown yard. The garden becomes a character itself, reflecting emotional states and transforming alongside the protagonists. This attention to setting and symbolism shows the husband-wife writing team’s craft maturing even further from their previous works like The Roughest Draft and The Breakup Tour.
Romance That Respects the Past
What sets this book apart from many second-chance or new-love-after-loss narratives is its refusal to diminish past relationships. Kennedy isn’t positioned as a mistake Sawyer needs to overcome, nor is Morgan’s broken engagement portrayed as a mere stepping stone to her “real” love story. Instead, the novel argues that we carry our past loves with us, not as burdens but as foundations for who we become.
The relationship between Morgan and Sawyer develops within this framework of honoring the past while building toward the future. Their romantic arc never asks them to forget or minimize what came before; instead, it shows them learning to integrate those experiences into new possibilities. This mature approach to love and loss gives the romance genuine emotional heft.
The intimate scenes are tastefully written, balancing heat with emotional resonance. The authors understand that the most powerful moments of connection aren’t just physical but psychological—the vulnerability of being truly seen by another person.
The Wibberley and Siegemund-Broka Signature
Fans of the authors’ previous work will recognize their hallmarks: sharp dialogue, protagonists with complementary emotional journeys, and a willingness to explore difficult feelings without sacrificing hope or humor. Like Do I Know You? explored marriage in crisis and Book Boyfriend examined the intersection of fantasy and reality, Seeing Other People uses its high-concept premise to illuminate universal human experiences.
Their prose style adapts beautifully to the paranormal elements, maintaining a contemporary, accessible tone while never letting the supernatural aspects overshadow the emotional truth of the story. The Los Angeles setting comes alive through specific details—from West Hollywood apartments to Silver Lake hillsides—grounding the otherworldly premise in tactile reality.
Final Thoughts: A Story Worth Staying For
Seeing Other People is ultimately about the courage to stop running—from ghosts, from the past, from the possibility of future heartbreak. It’s a story about two people learning that moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, and that opening yourself to love again isn’t a betrayal of what came before.
Despite its occasional pacing issues and moments where emotional resolutions feel slightly rushed, the novel succeeds in delivering a romance that’s both entertaining and emotionally satisfying. The paranormal premise serves the story rather than overwhelming it, creating space for genuine character growth and transformation.
For readers seeking a romance that blends humor and heart, that treats grief with respect while maintaining hope, and that proves love can bloom even in the most haunted of places, Seeing Other People delivers. It’s a testament to Wibberley and Siegemund-Broka’s skill that they can take a premise that could easily veer into either pure comedy or melodrama and instead craft something that feels authentically human—ghosts and all.
If You Loved This, Try These
For readers who connected with Seeing Other People, these titles offer similar blends of paranormal elements, emotional depth, and romantic development:
- The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab – A woman cursed to be forgotten by everyone she meets explores themes of memory, love, and what it means to leave a mark on the world
- Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas – A trans brujo accidentally summons a ghost and must help him cross over while dealing with family and identity issues
- The Dead Romantics by Ashley Poston – A romance ghostwriter who can see ghosts finds herself falling for her new editor—who happens to be a ghost
- Haunted Ever After by Jen DeLuca – A skeptical tarot reader and a ghost tour guide navigate hauntings and romance in a small Virginia town
- What Souls Are Made Of by Tasha Suri – A novella about grief, memory, and the ghosts we carry with us
- The Roughest Draft by Emily Wibberley and Austin Siegemund-Broka – The authors’ earlier work about writing partners reconnecting, for readers who want more of their signature emotional depth