content: Garbage, pure garbage.Never having read a romance novel in my life, I thought that I would start with this one, which a student of mine professed to adore. The reason I chose it is that it supposedly implicated the Second World War, something that, I surmised, would add some interest for me, a curmudgeon who sneers at the world from his moral high horse.Alas! I don't think the author knew anything about World War II. Heck, that conflict doesn't play much of a role in the action anyhow. Basically the book is just a bunch of kissing and sunsets - until the end, where the two principals are a couple of horny octogenarians struggling to maintain their bond despite the ravages of Alzheimer's disease.This book is so sappy, and the leading man is such an uxorious schmuck, that I thought for a moment that "Nicholas Sparks" had to have been a pen name for a female author, as no writer with a pair could possibly have written this tripe.Alas. Not a nom de plume.