There is an experiment at the heart of Angela Meyer’s second novel, Moon Sugar. Without going into spoiler-level detail, it unlocks something in her protagonists, offering them new ways to connect with each other and the world around them. This experiment is a neat metaphor for Meyer’s own; by slipping between genres, her fiction strives to upend readerly expectations, expanding the possibilities for engagement.

Though the experiment is hinted at from the beginning, Moon Sugar starts out on a more direct, realist path. Mira is a forty-year-old woman who has left a long-term relationship and is coming to terms with the ruin of her life plans, including the idea of children. Looking for something more, she makes an appointment with a sex worker named Josh, and quickly becomes close to the younger man. Then he disappears.

Mira’s search for what has happened to her younger lover – the term fits, though the relationship begins as a transaction – takes her from Melbourne to Europe, where she encounters his friend Kyle, a reserved counterpoint to her more impulsive character. These two unlikely companions band together, moving from Berlin to Prague to Budapest, wonderful backdrops for the kind of mystery/romance crossover story Moon Sugar seems to be promising. Sex, death, and train travel: it’s an irresistible combination.

The pace moves quickly with the changes of location, and the question of what has really happened to Josh provides a satisfying structure. The search drops in and out of focus for the characters, as both are also concerned with their inner lives and emotional responses to grief, Josh, and each other. Threaded through Moon Sugar are deeper questions about the layers of intimacy, the boundaries between people, and how we can find ways to connect in spite of social conventions.