After finishing "Flirting In Italian" by Lauren Henderson, I got mad at myself. Why do I have to be so anal-retentive that I feel like I have to finish a book even though ti is so uninteresting and boring? But, I did. This has got to be one of the worst books I have ever read, and the premise came with such promise. A young lady from England goes to Italy for the summer, and... it could have gone everywhere that's beautiful. It starts as she sees a picture of a young woman in an old painting, and the woman looks like her. I mean, the possibilities were endless. But what do we get? A stupid mystery-ish with such a lame twist. There is some love story here, but the young man, Luca, is painted like an asshole that you never root for the relationship to go anywhere. Sigh, I really do not want to waste any more time writing about this book. On to the next.
BC-67
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