Quick Take
- Narration: Jakobi Diem brings warmth and emotional specificity to Brooklyn and Vann’s complicated reunion, capturing both the heat of the attraction and the weight of what these two characters carry.
- Themes: Second-chance romance, healing from loss and failed marriage, found community at an HBCU
- Mood: Emotionally layered and steamy, with genuine heart underneath the drama
- Verdict: A satisfying close to the Romey University trilogy that works best if you’ve followed Brooklyn and Vann from earlier in the series, but holds up on its own as a second-chance romance with real emotional stakes.
I finished this one on a Sunday afternoon in early February, the kind of gray day that makes you want something that will actually make you feel something. Temper Me had been sitting in my queue since I’d heard it mentioned alongside Alexandria House’s earlier Romey University books. I hadn’t read the first two, I went in a little cold, which turned out to be a useful experiment. By the end of six hours and change, I understood exactly why readers who had followed this trilogy from the start were calling this conclusion perfection.
Brooklyn Dembele and Vann London are carrying the particular weight of people who have been close to something good and lost it, Brooklyn through a marriage that ended in infidelity, Vann through a health scare that forced him to confront a lifetime of running from attachment. When Vann returns to Romey U, his alma mater, seeking comfort in family, the reunion with his sister’s friend Brooklyn is the kind of collision that feels both inevitable and genuinely complicated. Alexandria House doesn’t reach for easy resolution.
Our Take on Temper Me
What separates this book from a lot of second-chance romance is the specificity of the damage. Vann’s avoidance isn’t presented as romantic mystery, it’s rooted in something recognizable: a father who abandoned him, and a resulting conviction that putting down roots only invites loss. Brooklyn’s baggage is similarly concrete. She was complicit in her own marriage’s collapse, and the book doesn’t let her off the hook for that even as it allows her to grow past it. Both characters are broken in ways that feel true to how people actually break.
The HBCU setting at Romey University is more than backdrop. House uses it to anchor her characters in community, history, and specific cultural belonging in a way that matters to the story. The university’s culture, the relationships that stretch back to shared college years, the weight of institutional identity, all of it is woven into who Brooklyn and Vann are and why their reconnection carries the stakes it does. Reviewers who loved this series consistently point to the growth and the closure it provides, one calling the reconciliation between Vann and his father a genuine highlight, and another noting the flashback structure, glimpses into their earlier love affair, as a technique that gives the present-day relationship its emotional grounding.
Why Listen to Temper Me
Jakobi Diem’s narration is a significant part of why this works as an audiobook. He handles the tonal shifts between the steamy sequences and the more vulnerable emotional conversations with enough variation to keep both registers feeling distinct. The humor that reviewers mention, and Alexandria House has a real gift for comic timing, lands in the audio version in a way that is sometimes lost in straight reading. A moment that might play as banter on the page becomes a full comedic beat when delivered well, and Diem’s timing is reliable.
The book is also genuinely economical with its 6 hours and 22 minutes. House doesn’t pad. The scenes that exist are doing work, either revealing character, building tension, or providing the kind of payoff that readers of the earlier books have been waiting for. For listeners new to the series, there is enough context woven in to follow the emotional logic without feeling lost, even if some of the resonance of the series-long arcs will be attenuated.
What to Watch For in Temper Me
The on-again, off-again history between Vann and Brooklyn is primarily conveyed through flashback and dialogue rather than dramatized in full. If you have read the earlier books in the Romey University series, this architecture will feel earned. If you haven’t, the depth of the wound between them is something you’ll take somewhat on faith. The emotional stakes are legible either way, but the payoff lands with considerably more force for listeners who have been with these characters since the beginning.
The book is also firmly in the steamy category. Reviewers put the heat level at around 3.5 out of 5, present and purposeful rather than gratuitous, but unmistakably there. Listeners who prefer their romance on the cleaner side of the spectrum should know what to expect.
Who Should Listen to Temper Me
Start at book one of the Romey University series if you can. The full arc of these characters, Nathan and Nadia, JoJo and Sharla, and finally Brooklyn and Vann, is designed to accumulate, and this conclusion will hit harder for it. That said, Temper Me functions well as a standalone second-chance romance for listeners who enjoy emotionally intelligent Black romance fiction with an HBCU setting, real character damage, and a narrator who knows what he’s doing. Readers in search of something breezy and conflict-lite may want to look elsewhere; this one earns its sweetness by sitting with the complicated parts first.
Frequently Asked Questions
Can Temper Me be listened to without reading the first two Romey University books?
It works as a standalone, and the core emotional dynamic between Brooklyn and Vann is clear without prior context. But the resolution hits considerably harder if you’ve followed the series, the flashback structure and the reconciliation with Vann’s father carry more weight when you know these characters from earlier.
How does Jakobi Diem handle the range from comedic moments to emotional scenes in the narration?
Well. Diem’s timing on the humor is consistent, and he differentiates the romantic and vulnerable scenes from the lighter banter without overcorrecting into either melodrama or flatness. The steamy sequences are handled with appropriate directness.
Is this book primarily about the romance, or does it engage meaningfully with the HBCU setting?
Both. Alexandria House uses Romey University as a genuine community with cultural and historical weight, not just a backdrop. The setting shapes who these characters are, what they owe each other, and why their history carries the stakes it does.
What is the spice level, and is there significant non-romantic conflict beyond the central relationship?
Reviewers describe the heat level at roughly 3.5 out of 5, present and purposeful. Beyond the central romance, there is genuine character conflict: Brooklyn’s complicated feelings about her own past choices, Vann’s father-abandonment wounds, and the ensemble dynamics of the broader Romey U community.
