Burned through two of Mhairi McFarlane’s books in two days. The first, her latest, is If I Never Met You. Absolutely my kind of fiction. Nice turn of phrase, clever erudite chick lit. Total catnip hence quickly looked for another book after reading til 2 am and waking up the next day to finish it as quickly as I can.
Don’t You Forget About Me punched me in the face. Started meh. Five chapters in, I started to enjoy the heroine a little more. I very consciously decided to give the book a chance because it felt a little Marian Keyes to me. And true enough, like many MK books, the plot punched me in the face and I read the last 1/3 of the book teary-eyed and light-headed.
Need to take a bit of a break from women’s fiction. Maybe I should sort through my ebooks and brush up on a bit of nonfiction for work.
Be Still, My Beating Heart 