Review: IF YOU ONLY KNEW by Kristan Higgins
Yep, that’s my review.
Read an excerpt: here
Jenny Tate is the consummate New Yorker. A celebrated dress designer with access to the posh lifestyle- Jenny has it all. She even has a sickeningly cordial relationship with her ex-husband and his perfect wife. How modern. Nothing says closure like forced cheerfulness so you don’t seem bitter at an ex’s current wife’s baby shower!
Jenny decides to open a new page in her life and moves back upstate to be closer to her family and open a dress shop. While her sister’s life starts to unravel, Jenny may find a few other hearts in need of mending.
Rachel Carver, nee-Tate, is living the ultimate Stepford existence in Cambry-on-Hudson, NY; A loving husband, three adorable daughters (triplets no less), Mommy and Me Swim sessions...But the dream life gets flipped upside down by the ultimate betrayal. As Rach tithers back and forth on the right next step, she discovers more about herself than she ever realized existed.
4 ½ Red Roses
My Favorite Part of this Book: Call me a glutton for punishment but I enjoyed the emotionally wrecking scenes where Rachel had to confront her husband on his wrong doings. They were so filled with emotion I felt myself getting worked up, too!
Let me preface my final thoughts on this book with the following: I don’t cry. I am pretty desensitized and disenchanted when it comes to emotional/sappy scenes in books (ignore the oxymoron of me running this book blog and focusing on HEAs). I am just not that girl who wears her emotions on her sleeve (even in private).
That being said- IF YOU ONLY KNEW was so god damn affecting, I felt physically drained 3/4s through. I wanted to scream, and cry, and vented to my best friend how upset I was with Adam (Rachel’s husband). I stayed up all night and straight through to work the next morning reading because this book truly swept me away. I just couldn’t escape the feelings this book evoked and as I am not use to many books inspiring this, I couldn’t get enough! I recall an actual physical ache in my chest- my heart was in my stomach. This book is on par with Lisa Kleypas’ Sugar Daddy (my favorite contemporary of all time).
I think at the heart of it, we have an incredibly realistic book. Jenny’s love interest isn’t this dashing prince charming who rides in on a white horse and finds the way she eats, blinks, breathes intoxicating. He actually thinks she’s a little crazy when they first met. He was a bit of a dickhead, actually. There were no rose-colored angles- raw characters with plenty of flaws I found myself in.
The only thing keeping this from being a full 5 star read is that the writing style was difficult to follow at times. It was told from two perspectives (either sister) in alternating chapters (which I fucking hate 99% of the time)- oddly enough, once I became engrossed in both characters’ individual story, I didn’t find it as distracting/annoying. What did get me was with the writing style was that I found myself confused between reality and sarcastic day dream a lot- it was a little more work keeping everything straight. Also, the middle of this book was so spectacular that the final 20% paled in comparison and brought the story down as a whole for me.
There’s so much I could say about this book. From the excellent writing, to realistic characters, to the devastation left in the absence of its’ palpable suspense- IF YOU ONLY KNEW is going down as a favorite and go-to recommendation.
IF you want heart, triumph, laughs and love then you want IF YOU ONLY KNEW.
Jenny decides to open a new page in her life and moves back upstate to be closer to her family and open a dress shop. While her sister’s life starts to unravel, Jenny may find a few other hearts in need of mending.
Rachel Carver, nee-Tate, is living the ultimate Stepford existence in Cambry-on-Hudson, NY; A loving husband, three adorable daughters (triplets no less), Mommy and Me Swim sessions...But the dream life gets flipped upside down by the ultimate betrayal. As Rach tithers back and forth on the right next step, she discovers more about herself than she ever realized existed.
4 ½ Red Roses
My Favorite Part of this Book: Call me a glutton for punishment but I enjoyed the emotionally wrecking scenes where Rachel had to confront her husband on his wrong doings. They were so filled with emotion I felt myself getting worked up, too!
Let me preface my final thoughts on this book with the following: I don’t cry. I am pretty desensitized and disenchanted when it comes to emotional/sappy scenes in books (ignore the oxymoron of me running this book blog and focusing on HEAs). I am just not that girl who wears her emotions on her sleeve (even in private).
That being said- IF YOU ONLY KNEW was so god damn affecting, I felt physically drained 3/4s through. I wanted to scream, and cry, and vented to my best friend how upset I was with Adam (Rachel’s husband). I stayed up all night and straight through to work the next morning reading because this book truly swept me away. I just couldn’t escape the feelings this book evoked and as I am not use to many books inspiring this, I couldn’t get enough! I recall an actual physical ache in my chest- my heart was in my stomach. This book is on par with Lisa Kleypas’ Sugar Daddy (my favorite contemporary of all time).
I think at the heart of it, we have an incredibly realistic book. Jenny’s love interest isn’t this dashing prince charming who rides in on a white horse and finds the way she eats, blinks, breathes intoxicating. He actually thinks she’s a little crazy when they first met. He was a bit of a dickhead, actually. There were no rose-colored angles- raw characters with plenty of flaws I found myself in.
The only thing keeping this from being a full 5 star read is that the writing style was difficult to follow at times. It was told from two perspectives (either sister) in alternating chapters (which I fucking hate 99% of the time)- oddly enough, once I became engrossed in both characters’ individual story, I didn’t find it as distracting/annoying. What did get me was with the writing style was that I found myself confused between reality and sarcastic day dream a lot- it was a little more work keeping everything straight. Also, the middle of this book was so spectacular that the final 20% paled in comparison and brought the story down as a whole for me.
There’s so much I could say about this book. From the excellent writing, to realistic characters, to the devastation left in the absence of its’ palpable suspense- IF YOU ONLY KNEW is going down as a favorite and go-to recommendation.
IF you want heart, triumph, laughs and love then you want IF YOU ONLY KNEW.
New Release Highlight + Excerpt: If You Only Knew by Kristan Higgins
Time to highlight another new release this month from a fav author.
When I need my contemporary fix, no one speaks to me quite like how Kristan Higgins can. Yesterday marked the release of her latest, IF YOU ONLY KNEW ! Another book I've begun which grabbed me at page one and I am dying to finish in-between work and responsibilities (bleh).
Review on the way, but in the meantime, how about an extra special excerpt !?
(You can stop screaming now and get to reading!)
About The Book:
Letting go of her ex-husband is harder than wedding-dress designer Jenny Tate expected…especially since his new wife wants to be Jenny's new best friend. Sensing this isn't exactly helping her achieve closure, Jenny trades the Manhattan skyline for her hometown up the Hudson, where she'll start her own business and bask in her sister Rachel's picture-perfect family life…and maybe even find a little romance of her own with Leo, her downstairs neighbor, a guy who's utterly irresistible and annoyingly distant at the same time.
Rachel's idyllic marriage, however, is imploding after she discovers her husband sexting with a colleague. She always thought she'd walk away in this situation, but her triplet daughters have her reconsidering her stance on adultery, much to Jenny's surprise. Rachel points to their parents' perfect marriage as a shining example of patience and forgiveness; but to protect her sister, Jenny may have to tarnish that memory—and their relationship—and reveal a family secret she's been keeping since childhood.
Both Rachel and Jenny will have to come to terms with the past and the present and find a way to get what they want most of all.
Get Your Copy Today:
Excerpt:
CHAPTER 1
Jenny
Today is one of those days when I realize that staying friends with my ex- husband was a huge mistake.
I’m at the baby shower for Ana-Sofia, Owen’s wife and my replacement. Indeed, I’m sitting next to her, a place of honor in this circle of beaming well- wishers, and I’m probably beaming just as hard as everyone else. Harder, even, my Gosh, isn’t it wonderful, she’s so radiant smile that I give at work quite often, especially as my brides get bitchier or their mothers get more critical or their maids of honor get more jealous. But this smile, the baby shower smile…this is superhuman, really.
I know that coming today is incredibly pathetic, don’t worry. It’s just that I didn’t want to seem bitter by not showing up (though I’m pretty sure I am bitter, at least a little). After all, I’m the one who always wanted kids. Every time I brought it up, though, Owen said he wasn’t sure the time was right, and he loved our life the way it was.
Yeah. So. That turned out not to be quite true, but we did stay friends. Coming today, though…pathetic.
However, I woke up this morning utterly starving, and I knew the food would be amazing at the shower. Ana-Sofia inspires people. Plus, I’m moving out of the city, so for the past three weeks, I’ve been trying to eat or give away every morsel of food in my apartment. Let’s also mention that I couldn’t figure out an excuse that people
would buy. Better to be an oddity here than Poor Jenny at home, scrounging through a box of Wheat-Thins of indeterminate age.
Ana-Sofia opens my gift, which is wrapped in Christmas paper, despite it being April. Liza, my host, glowers; the red and green cocoa-swilling Santas are an affront to the party vibe, which Liza noted on the invitations. In an effort to create a beautiful and harmonious environment for Ana-Sofia, please adhere to the apricot and sage color scheme in your clothing and gift-wrapping choices. Only in Manhattan, folks. I’m wearing a purple dress as a middle finger to Liza, who used to be my friend but now posts daily on FB that she’s LOL-ing with her BFF, Ana-Sofia.
“Oh! This is so lovely! Thank you, Jenny! Everyone, look at this! It’s beautiful!” Ana-Sofia holds up my gift, and there are gasps and murmurs and exclamations and a few glares that I have the best present here. I cock an eyebrow at the haters. Suck it up, bitches. My gift was actually dashed off last night, as I kind of forgot to buy a present, but they don’t have to know that.
It’s a white satin baby blanket with leaves and trees and birds stitched into it. Hey. It only took me two hours. Nothing was hand-stitched. It wasn’t that big a deal.
I sew for a living. A wedding dress designer. The irony is not lost on me, don’t worry. “Couldn’t you have just bought a stuffed animal like a normal person?”
murmurs the person on my left. Andreas (born Andrew), my assistant, and the only man here. Gay, of course—do straight men work in designer bridal wear? Also, he hates and fears children, which makes him the perfect date for me under the circumstances. I needed an ally.
Have I mentioned that the shower is held in the apartment I once shared with
Owen? Where, so far as I could tell, he and I were extremely happy? Yes. Liza is hosting, but the power went out in her apartment, thanks to the ham-fisted construction crew installing her new glass countertops (granite being so very last decade), and so we’re here instead. Liza is sweaty and loud, rightfully worried about being judged on her prowess as hostess. This is the Upper East Side, after all. We’re all about judgment here.
The gifts (including mine) border on the ridiculous. The shower invitation
(engraved from Crane’s) asked, at the behest of the parents, for donations to the clean-well-water charity Ana-Sofia founded—Gushing.Org, the name of which brings to mind a particularly bad menstrual period, but which raises funds for wells in Africa. Yeah. Therefore, everyone donated fat checks and tried to outdo themselves with gifts. There’s a Calder mobile. A 1918 edition of Mother Goose stories. A mohair Steiff teddy bear that costs about as much as the rent on my soon-to-be former apartment in the Village.
My gaze drifts across the now-tastefully furnished apartment. When I lived here, it was cozier and Bo-Ho—fat, comfortable furniture, dozens of pictures of my three nieces, the occasional wall hanging from Target, that bastion of color and joy for the middle class. Now, the décor is incredibly tasteful, with African masks on the wall to remind us what Ana-Sofia does, and original paintings from around the globe. The walls are painted those boring, neutral colors with sexy names—October Fog, Birmingham Cream, Icicle.
There’s their wedding photo. They eloped, so thank God I didn’t have to go to that (or, God forbid, make her gown, which I would’ve done if asked, because I’m
still pretty pitiful where Owen is concerned and can’t figure out how to divorce him out of my heart). Though the photo was taken by the justice of the peace in Maine, it’s perfect. Both bride and groom are laughing, slightly turned away from the camera, Ana’s hair blowing in the sea breeze. The New York Times featured the photo in the Sunday Vows section.
They really are the perfect couple. Once, it was Owen and me, and while I
didn’t expect perfection, I thought we were pretty great. We never fought. My mom felt that since Owen is half Japanese, he was a better bet than “those simpletons” I dated (all of whom I hoped to marry at one point or another, starting with Nico Stephanopolous in eighth grade). “The Japanese don’t believe in divorce,” Mom said the first time I introduced her. “Right, Owen?”
He agreed, and I can still see his omnipresent, sweet smile, the Dr. Perfect Smile, as I called it. It’s his resting expression. Very reassuring to his patients, I’m sure. Owen is a plastic surgeon, the kind who fixes cleft palates and birthmarks and changes the lives of his patients. Ana-Sofia, who is from Peru and speaks five languages, met Owen eleven weeks after our divorce when he was doing his annual stint with Doctors Without Borders in the Sudan and she was digging wells.
And I make wedding dresses, as I believe I’ve already said. Listen. It’s not as
shallow as it sounds. I make women look like they dreamed they would on one of the happiest days of their lives. I make them cry at their own reflections, I give them the dress they’ve spent years thinking about, the dress they’ll be wearing when they pledge their hearts, the dress they’ll pass onto their own daughters someday, the dress that signifies all their hopes and dreams for a happy, sparkling future.
But compared with what Owen and his second wife do, yeah, it’s incredibly shallow.
In theory, I should hate them both. No, he didn’t cheat with her. He’s far too decent for that.
He loves her, though. Ostensibly, I could hate him for loving her and not me. Make no mistake. I was heartbroken. But I can’t hate Owen, or Ana-Sofia. They’re too damn nice, which is incredibly inconsiderate of them.
And being Owen’s friend is better than being without Owen entirely.
The quilt has made the rounds of admiration and is passed back to Ana. She strokes it tenderly, then looks at me with tears in her eyes. “I don’t have the words to tell you how much this means.”
Oh, shut up, I want to say. I forgot to buy you a gift and dashed this off last night with some leftover Duchess satin. It’s no big deal.
“Hey, no worries,” I say. I’m often glib and stupid around Ana-Sofia. Andreas
hands me another cream puff. I may have to give him a raise.
“I’m so excited about your new shop,” Ana says. “Owen and I were talking about how talented you are just last night.”
Andreas gives me a significant look and rolls his eyes. He has no problem hating Ana-Sofia and Owen, which I appreciate. I smile and take another sip of my mimosa, which is made with blood oranges and really good champagne.
If I’m ever pregnant, though the chances of that are plummeting by the hour, I imagine I’ll have the unenviable “I sat on an air hose” look that my sister had when she was percolating the triplets. There was no glow. There was acne. Stretch marks
that made her look as if she’d been mauled by a Bengal tiger. She gnashed on Tums and burped constantly, but in true Rachel fashion, my sister never complained.
Ana-Sofia glows. Her perfect olive skin is without a blemish or, indeed, a visible pore. Her boobs look fantastic, and though she is eight and a half months pregnant, her baby bump is modest and perfectly round. She has no cankles. Life is so unfair.
“We just found out that our daughter’s classmate is her half-brother,” says
the taller woman in Lesbian Couple #1. One of them just became a partner in Owen’s practice, but I don’t remember her name. “Imagine if we hadn’t known that! She could’ve ended up dating her half-brother! Marrying him! The fertility clinic gave out fourteen samples of that donor’s sperm. We’re filing a lawsuit.”
“It’s better than adopting,” says another woman. “My sister? She and her husband had to give back their son the fourth time he set fire to the living room.”
“That’s not so bad. My cousin adopted, and then the birth mother came out of
rehab and the judge gave her custody of the baby. After two years, mind you.”
On the other side of the circle, there seems to be a heated debate over whose labor and delivery was most grueling. “I almost died,” one woman says proudly. “I looked at my husband and told him I loved him, and the next thing I knew, the crash cart was there…”
“I was in labor for three days,” another states. “I was like a wild animal, clawing at the sheets.”
“Emergency cesarean eight weeks early, no anesthesia,” someone else says proudly. “My daughter weighed two pounds. NICU, fifty-seven days.”
And we have a winner! The other mothers shoot her resentful looks. Talk turns to food allergies, vaccines, family beds and the sad dearth of gifted and talented programs for preschoolers.
“This is fun,” I murmur to Ana-Sofia.
“Oh, yes,” she says. Irony is not one of her skills. “I’m so glad you are here, Jenny. Thank you for giving up your afternoon! You must be very busy with the move.”
“You’re moving?” one of her extremely beautiful and well-educated friends asks. “Where?”
“Cambry-on-Hudson,” I answer. “I grew up there. My sister and her family are—“
“Oh, my God, you’re leaving Manhattan? Will you have to get a car? Are there any restaurants there? I couldn’t live without Zenyasa Yoga.”
“You still go to Zenyasa?” someone says. “I’ve moved on. It’s Bikram Hot for
me. I saw Neil Patrick Harris there last week.”
“I don’t do yoga anymore,” a blond woman says, studying a raspberry. “I joined a trampoline studio over on Amsterdam. Sarah Jessica Parker told me about it.”
“What about brunch?” someone asks me, her brow wrinkling in concern. “What will you do for brunch if you leave the city?”
“I think brunch is illegal outside Manhattan,” I answer gravely. No one laughs. They may think I’m telling the truth.
Now granted, I love Manhattan. To paraphrase the song, if you make it here,
the rest of the world is a cake walk. And I have made it here. I’ve worked for the best—even Vera Wang, as a matter of fact. My work is sold at Kleinfeld’s and has supported me for fifteen years. I was named one of the Designers of the Year when I was at Parson’s. I’ve been to not one but two parties at Tim Gunn’s place. He greeted me by name (and yes, he’s as nice as he seems).
But while I love the city, its roar, its buildings and smells, its subways and
skyline, in my heart of hearts, I want a yard. I want to see my nieces more often. I want the happily ever after that my sister nailed, that’s unfolding for my ex-husband and his too-nice wife.
I hope I’m running to something, not away. The truth is, work has felt a little flat lately.
Cambry-on-Hudson is a lovely little city about an hour north of Manhattan. It has several excellent restaurants (some even serve brunch, shockingly). The downtown has a movie theater, flowering trees, a park and a Williams-Sonoma. It’s hardly a third-world country, no matter what these women think. And the latest shop is Bliss. Custom-made wedding gowns. My baby, in lieu of the human kind.
My phone beeps softly with a text. It’s from Andreas, who has put in his ear
buds in order to drown out the stories of blocked milk ducts and bleeding nipples. Check out the nose on the great-aunt. I hope the baby inherits that. I smile at him gratefully.
“Did you hear about the obstetrician who fathered fifty-nine babies?” someone asks.
“That was an episode on Law & Order.”
“Ripped from the headlines,” someone else murmurs. “Someone in my building was one of his patients.”
“Oh. Oh, dear,” Ana-Sofia says.
I turn to her. She looks a bit startled. “It’s probably not true,” I tell her. “No…I think…it appears my water has broken.”
There is a silence, followed by a collective roar.
I’ll spare you the details. Suffice it to say that, despite there being a dozen women who’ve given birth all jockeying for position, my hand is the one Ana-Sofia clutches. “Oh, Jenny, it’s happening,” she says, and her beautiful brown eyes are wide and terrified, and then I’m easing her onto the floor and crouched between her still- slim thighs (she’s maintained her bikini wax, FYI). Off with the thong (really, it’s like she’s showing off), and holy Mother of God, I can see the head.
I fumble in my purse for the travel-size Purell (if you ride the subways on a daily basis, you carry Purell). Slap some on my hands. “Get some towels and quiet down!” I bark at the other shower guests. I’m kind of good in emergencies. Liza hands me a stack of towels (very soft and about to be ruined by whatever comes out of a woman during childbirth).
“Let me help,” Liza whines. Indeed, this would make a great Facebook post.
Just delivered my BFF’s baby, LOL! –with Ana-Sofia Marquez-Takahashi.
“I need to push,” Ana pants, and she does, once, twice, a third time, and a face appears (a baby! there’s a baby coming into my hands!). One more push, and I’m holding it, slimy and covered in white gunk and a little blood and incredibly beautiful.
Dark hair, huge eyes. A miracle.
I ease her out all the way and put her on Ana’s chest. “It’s a girl,” I say, covering the baby with a towel.
Then FDNY clomps in, and I entertain a quick and deeply satisfying fantasy—
The head firefighter is filled with admiration for my cleverness, checks me out and asks me to dinner in the cutest Brooklyn accent the world has ever heard. His biceps flex hypnotically, and at the end of the date, yes, he does pick me up to demonstrate just how easy it would be for him to save my life, and a few years later, we have three strong sons and twin daughters on the way. And a Dalmatian.
But no, their attention is quite taken with Ana-Sofia (as it should be, I guess, though it would be nice if just one of them checked me out). Someone cuts the cord, and Ana is weeping beautifully over her daughter, and Liza holds her phone to Ana’s ear so my ex-husband can sob his love and admiration for his wife, who just set the land-speed record for labor and delivery.
From down the hall, I can hear Andreas dry-heaving in the tastefully decorated powder room over the murmurs of admiration from the shower guests and the brawny firefighters as they tell Ana how amazing she is, how beautiful her daughter is.
Seems like I’m leaving the city in the very nick of time.
----
On hell of a first chapter, #AmIRight? Have this on your TBR list? Comment your excitement below!
Review: Suddenly One Summer by Julie James
Julie James writes it, we read it, we love it- - rinse, lather, repeat. This time around we take an attractive journalist, add one snarky, kick ass family lawyer, multiply by their complicated pasts and a convenient "my sister needs your help, so let’s- grudgingly- work together” story line, (and subtract a 'cavalcade' of misunderstood female companion sightings) = and you've got your next best read.
Read an except: here
Ford Dixon can get to the bottom of any story for his numerous investigative pieces for the local newspaper. His instinct bodes well professionally, but sometimes falls short outside of the newsroom - especially when Victoria Slade enters his life (and the apartment next door).
Slade, a highly successful divorce lawyer, has seen it all. The trials of life have helped mold Victoria into the woman she is today. She’s the always on-it, semi-compulsive, love-cynic wunderkind that clients love as much as opposing counsel loathes. A traumatic episode sets her down a path of losing that hard-won control and it’s through resilience and some well-meaning prodding by her pesky-cute (new word) neighbor that she’ll begin to do the ground work needed to get to the root of her issues.
And pesky-cute neighbor guy…the one with penis pop parties with brunettes at night and mysterious blondes saying they loves him in the A.M. --well, he has his own misguided philosophies and views on love to reevaluate.
These two are perfectly imperfect for one another, and while working towards a mutual goal, they'll recognize that fact profoundly- or risk devastating the other in resisting.
Rating:
3 3/4 Red Roses
My Favorite Part of the Book: Is when Victoria comes face to face with one of her biggest fears since her ordeal. Ford is on hand to catch her when she falls (quite literally) and this scene represents chapters and chapters of buildup! Reader can tell something to this effect is coming. The suspense was palpable and very well done!
The winning components to this novel are the skillfully crafted characters. James really takes her time molding an H/h readers will actually care about. You instantly connect with Victoria from the first scene as she lives through a nightmare and works through the subsequent aftershock. Fear and anxiety are familiar emotions for anyone- and the author plays with them memorably. Ford also wars with his past and the empathy you'll share spans actual sadness to tentative hope.
On the flip side, with so much concentration on developing these perfectly flawed characters, I felt slightly deprived of that interaction and romance I wanted for H/h. The therapy sessions started to crowd the story and once the H/h finally get busy it took me off guard a bit (all this time was spent developing these amazing characters separately that when they came together I wasn't prepped enough for that dynamic). I found myself wanting to scream "YOU GOT ME! I CARE!", let’s get more scenes like the Taste of Chicago that don't have the whole battle of wills thing going all out.
Ya'll know I am all action/need to see cars blowing up, etc- so therapy sessions with a lot of internal plot movement/set up kills me- only James could keep me as engage as I was considering my disposition to these methods.
So like it, love it, you'll definitely feel the heat Suddenly One THIS Summer!
Don't forget to check out:
Review + Giveaway: Waiting on You by Kristan Higgins
WAITING ON YOU by Kristan Higgins is rife with emotion and not as cookie-cutter as you'd expect a small town contemporary romance to be; These quintessential Higgins characters learn lessons in love, forgiveness and acceptance that keeps a reader engaged until the final page.10 years, a miscarriage, failed marriage, and sick uncle later, Lucas Campbell finds his way back to the small town that never really felt like home. His only family included an aunt that went above and beyond to make him feel like an outsider, a dimwitted but lovable cousin, and the kind but preoccupied (and pussy-whipped) brother of his father. The only person that made Manningsport worth living in, back then and now, was Colleen O'Rourke- but she currently regards him as the asshole who refused to marry her because he wasn't ready one moment and then turns up engaged the next. Despite the awkward tension, Lucas has to insert himself back into the fold of the town- if only to honor a dying wish and see his cousin settled before Uncle Joe's passing. It wouldn't be nearly as frustrating if his ex-girlfriend wasn't butting in at every turn and trying to set the cousin up with someone who was obviously a waste of time (or was she?).
Characters both young and old learn from their mistakes and find contentment in exactly who they are. When misunderstandings from the past float to the surface, a second chance at first love just might persevere.
My Rating:
My Favorite Part of the Book: Was the complexity of the relationship between Colleen and her father. This dynamic resonated with me deeply and was written in a very convincing and poignant way. I love when I can see little pieces of myself and true life struggles in the books that I am reading and it's nice to be on the outside looking in on something that hits close to home. I connected a lot more with the characters because of this.
Every time I read a book by this author I have some pop culture comparatives to mention; This book was like Cheers meets the soap opera Passions (anyone else remember Passions!?!). I tend to shy away from small town novels because they can read too cookie cutter (and honestly too staid) to me- and for a short time in the beginning of the novel I started to worry this one would follow suit. Sure enough, Higgins worked her magic and delivered characters and plot twists that kept me engrossed with the story all the way through. I appreciated the flaws of the characters (not just protagonists) and the very real way the author chose to address those insecurities and short comings. I also appreciated a female protagonist who actually knew she was pretty, not pulling the whole "I-am-a-simple-small-town-girl-with-no-idea-how-gorgeous-and-irresistible-I-am", but Colleen did start to irk me when her beauty and her promiscuity became a repetitive theme she liked to use as a defense mechanism. And as hilarious as #TeamMenopause was, some of their conduct (and specifically a scene at a single's painting class event) just read too dramatic for me. Still, this book is classic Higgins and delivers a story ripe with characters worth reading and plenty of inspirational messages to take home.
***GIVEAWAY***
Little Bird Publicity and Kristan Higgins would like to offer a copy of WAITING ON YOU to one (1) lucky commenter! Comment on this review AND fill out the rafflecopter form below to be entered. This giveaway is open to US only (no P.O. Boxes please) and will end April 17th. A winner will be chosen and emailed.a Rafflecopter giveaway
‘My One and Only’ by Kristan Higgins –Review-
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| Read and excerpt: here |
Being a top-notch divorce attorney certainly helps skew your view on the whole institution of marriage. Throw in a failed marriage of your own that didn’t even make it to a full year and you’ll find it very easy to look on at the world in Harper-colored lenses. Infamous and loathed by the divorcees (at least on the losing side) of a town in Martha's Vineyard, Thirty *mumbles* year old Harper James is driving even the local priest to shaking his head in hopelessness at her dry wit and second skin of cynicism. Fanciful and naive dreams of a perfect marriage were left to the just-out-of-college, newlywed Harper. But now, she has traded in the title of ‘hopeless romantic’ for ‘habitual realist’. A much older and wiser Harper doesn’t see the point in dwelling on failed marriages and crushed dreams and has the ultimate formula to a happy life: 1 superhot, slightly wet behind the ears, rat tail having, firefighter boyfriend + 2 ½ years in a committed relationship + some wicked hot sex = time to say “I Do”.
While in the midst of laying out a very compelling marriage proposal (and when you read the book, proposal is just the word for it), Harper gets a call from her sometimes flighty but oh so loveable sister, Willa. Looks like Harper wasn’t the only one doing some proposing, because Willa calls to inform her big sis that she’s getting hitched (for the third time). She wants Harper to be her maid of honor and travel down to Montana for the wedding. Harper couldn’t be more thrilled... [insert sarcasm here]
The wedding is in a few weeks, so besides being on a time crunch to convince her sister to not marry some guy she just met, Harper won’t have a lot of time to prepare herself for seeing her ex-husband of 12 years- who also happens to be the groom’s brother and best man.
The whirl wind that swept up an ambitious Nick Lowe 12 years ago when he married Harper James may be coming back to cause more destruction as Nick travels to Montana for his brother’s wedding. Being the best man, Nick has a responsibility to his brother to make sure the next few weeks go by with as little conflict as possible; but how can anyone expect Nick to do his job when his ‘stunted’ ex-wife jumps into the fray and tries to talk her sister into backing out every chance she gets?
The weekend of the wedding will hold a lot of fortunate happenstances. (Superhot boyfriend, meet crazy sexy ex-husband.) The best man and maid of honor are destined to butt heads during the festivities leading up to their siblings’ big day, but what sort of hazards await the not-couple when they must travel cross-country together with a dog and a horde of repressed memories?
Nick and Harper never got over one another despite how much time has passed and maybe the road trip down memory lane will be just the thing needed to convince the exes to make peace with the past and embrace their One and Only.
My Rating:
My Favorite Part of the Book: Is surprisingly enough, the road trip reflections where we get all the backstory and emotional rehash we could ever want. Usually, when books have these flashbacks, they can be lengthy and start to fell like one big info-drop after another. I can never really enjoy them. When I realized that most of the backstory would be told during the road trip, I cringed and thought “Well, there goes the book.” Higgins delightfully surprised me by executing the reflections wonderfully. I was absorbed by my interest in the characters past. I had to stop reading around these parts so I could run some errands, and a more distracted shopper at Pathmark you’d never find. The road trip reflections were well crafted and stayed with me even after I finished reading.
This book was like 27 Dresses meets Sweet Home Alabama. Higgins has an infectious writer's voice and the book was one filled with pizazz and personality. Nick was very interesting but at first, I thought he would be more of a prop than a protagonist. As the story progressed, however, his vulnerability shines through and you want to pat him on the back for knowing what he wants and going balls-to-the-wall to get it.
Harper reminded me a lot of the pragmatic, sometimes stick-up-the butt-ish women we see in romantic comedies like the ones I mentioned above. She was a BOSS. But she was also as vulnrable or even more so than Nick. Yeah, it takes balls to propose to your boyfriend and give him an ultimatum, but as you read, you see she's covering up her fear of abandonment with a mask of practicality.
Harper was a character that you instantly liked and simultaneously rolled your eyes at when she said things like:
Harper was a character that you instantly liked and simultaneously rolled your eyes at when she said things like:
“Sometimes our minds just need time to accept what our hearts already know”
The book didn’t only have lovely protagonists, but a strong supporting cast and intriguing settings. If this latest is anything to go by, Higgins will be a permanent fixture on my bookshelf. Her unique style and relatable characters will certainly enchant her to romance readers everywhere.
[I received the galley for
[I received the galley for
this book through Netgalley]
*Check out another Higgins novel, ‘The Next Best Thing’
*And in the spirit of second chance romance and movies, check out the classic movie ‘The Philadelphia Story’. One of my all-time favorites with some debonair 1940’s Man Candy (Mmm, James Stewart)
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