I'm totally not a chick-lit type of reader, although there does actually exist good books that fall in the chick-lit genre. These two were surprisingly sweet and decent.
Synopsis: Naive, sheltered teenager (obviously from affluent, white America) goes on a European tour by way of her dead aunt's instructions. On the way, she discovers the wonders of Harrod's, the creepiness of over-sexed Italian men, that cool travel buddies come from down under, and the intrigue of art dealing. Well, I found the art dealing part intriguing at least.
My favorite parts are the letters from said, deceased aunt, and the main character's interactions with Richard - who probably is a paler-than-pale, uptight English dude between 35-40 years old, but I first imagined him to be rather dapper, and younger than he was described later on in the books.
The main character herself is rather forgettable. Actually, I have already forgotten her name. Um. Sorry. But really, she could have been the fictional doppelganger of that bland, squeaky, blonde girl from my high school chem class. Her sympathetic grief over the sudden disappearance and death of her aunt saves her from complete character boredom.
Overall, decent read. And yes, I cried. Which is what all good chick-lit should make you do.
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