I have read most of Hannah's books, and this one is a huge disappointment. It's fluff and not much else. I reached the end only by skimming pages and pages of soppy, unbelievable filler on what a very young girl might write about romance. Hannah was 35 when she wrote this...she is now 57. I think that she would have written this book so much better if she had written it in the last five years. I might sound like I am bashing her, but her book The Nightingale is in my top five of the best books that I have ever read by any author. And I like a lot of her other books.
Although 35 isn't exactly youthful, I am chalking this fail up to inexperience.
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