I wanted to really really really like this and I only sort of liked it. The premise is great: it's a Regency where she was always pining for the hot guy next door, and he was never interested, so she wrote a book about how great it is to be alone and how he totally missed out on someone as great as she is. She's become the toast of the town, and he's embarrassed (she used a name that's NEARLY but not quite his, and no one is fooled). That sounds great! He can apologize and realize what he missed, she can feel vindicated, they can get together finally as equals.
...that isn't what happens. He's kind of a jerk about it, and for no reason that ever made any sense to me, she still wants him, especially when he's kind of a jerk about it. At the end I still felt like he owed her an apology.
Oh, and there's a lot of dumb stuff here. This is the kind of romance where they're so intent on boning, despite claiming to hate each other, that they get locked outside of a cabin in the snow, naked. If that sounds like something you could read, and nod, and say, "Sure, that happens all the time," then this might be your book.
Grade: C
2015
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