It used to be that publishers courted reviewers and review sites like ours. Back in the day, my mailbox (and those at AAR who came before me) overflowed with paperbacks and the occasional hardback. Those advance review copies (ARCs)—unsolicited, unconditional, and generous—arrived because publishers believed reviews mattered.

No more. Every week, it gets harder. NetGalley rarely lists major releases and usually says no to most requests; Edelweiss often ignores them altogether. Silence has become the norm. For romance novels, it’s even worse. Asking for an ARC from Avon or Grand Central often feels like clicking into space. Ironically, other genres are more welcoming: mystery publishers nearly always say yes. Getting upcoming romances now requires detective work—tracking down which publicist handles which author (a role that often changes yearly)—and a willingness to keep asking, and though I’m often told yes, it’s a lot. 

Why? There are plenty of reasons, but here are a few: publishers now chase metrics and pour resources into a handful of big names. A TikTok clip or Instagram squee feels safer than a thoughtful review. Publicity has become centralized and risk-averse. And Amazon and KU have built their own closed ecosystems, with little room for independent, long-form reviews.

What’s vanished isn’t just access—it’s relevance. Review sites like AAR once connected writers, readers, and critics in a conversation built on curiosity, trust, and joy. It feels as if that kind of exchange no longer interests publishers. The romance, it feels to me, is fading fast.