Title: The literary equivalent of a 2X4 to the skull.....
Product review: this alleged "novel" (I use the word lightly in the case of this endless stream of cliches, hollow banalities, and predictable "twists") has no redeeming qualities whatsoever outside of convincing me that the American public have lost their ability to distinguish writing from chicken scratch. Why would women like this book so much? Are they that lonely? Would they really enjoy meeting a man so unable to get over himself? This book is an ode to narcissism if anything, and it will drive cynics even harder to rip to shreds any and all attempts at romance fiction in the future.
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