Did you know that the blockbuster TV series Heated Rivalry started as a book? It’s a fact that often gets overlooked, but it’s one that could change the way you think about genre fiction. From afro-solarpunk cli-fi to queer fairytale romantasy, and even senior-sleuth cozy mysteries, genre fiction dives into some incredibly specific—and captivating—niches. But one subgenre has truly taken the world by storm: gay hockey romance. If you’ve scrolled through social media or tuned into HBO Max lately, you’ve likely heard of Heated Rivalry, the series that chronicles the fiery, years-long relationship between Canadian hockey star Shane Hollander and his Russian rival Ilya Rozanov. With over 10.6 million American viewers and a recent release in Germany, it’s a cultural phenomenon. But here’s the part most people miss: it all began with a novel—a slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers masterpiece penned by Rachel Reid in her Game Changers series.
Reid herself has said the story was born from her lifelong love of hockey and her awareness of the sport’s cultural challenges. In an interview with Maclean’s, she reflected, ‘I thought a lot about how difficult it would be to be a closeted pro player—and what it might be like if they came out.’ Her intuition paid off. The series has sold over 650,000 copies, proving that writing what you’re passionate about isn’t just therapeutic—it’s a recipe for success. After all, as Reid’s story shows, the audience is out there, even if you haven’t found them yet.
But here’s where it gets controversial: despite genre fiction’s massive popularity—we’re talking a multibillion-dollar industry here—its transition to screen adaptations remains shockingly uneven. Sure, Game of Thrones, Twilight, and The Hunger Games broke through, but they’re the exceptions, not the rule. Even romantasy, the fastest-growing genre in literature, has yet to see a mainstream adaptation. Remember when Hulu scrapped plans for A Court of Thorns and Roses? Fans were devastated. So why aren’t studios giving audiences more of what they clearly want?
Take Heated Rivalry as a case study. When the HBO Max series dropped, Rachel Reid’s publisher, Harlequin, missed a golden opportunity. Instead of reissuing the book with a promotional cover or ensuring ample stock in bookstores, they did… virtually nothing. The result? Long library waitlists, Amazon dominating e-book sales, and Reid missing out on potential paperback royalties that could have been hers. It’s a painful reminder of how authors often get the short end of the stick, even when their work becomes a cultural juggernaut.
Harlequin eventually responded to the backlash, claiming they were ‘excited for the continued support’ and promising reprints. But for many, it was too little, too late. The real question is: why did they underestimate genre fiction in the first place? The New York Times called the show’s success ‘surprising even to TV executives,’ but fans of the genre saw it coming. After all, Reid’s books had already topped Amazon’s sports romance charts for years. Seven out of the top ten hockey romances? Written by her. The surprise isn’t that Heated Rivalry succeeded—it’s that it took this long for a studio to adapt one of these wildly popular stories.
And this is the part most people miss: genre fiction authors have been building their own audiences for decades, often through self-publishing and fan fiction communities. Only recently have traditional publishers and studios started to take notice—and even then, they’re playing catch-up. But the truth is, genre fiction is a goldmine of diverse, compelling stories that deserve to be told. So, studios and publishers, take note: give the people what they want, and make sure you’re prepared for the demand.
Here’s a thought-provoking question for you: Is the publishing industry still stuck in the past, underestimating the power of genre fiction? Or is this the beginning of a new era where these stories finally get the recognition—and adaptations—they deserve? Let’s discuss in the comments!
