There are some books that tap me on the shoulder and say "Remember me? I'm the reason you like to read."
This is one of those books.
I have always loved anything set in Europe, particularly England. I'm also a big sucker for plots that center on lost love that's found again. This book has both.
Harriet Evans reminds me of a less cheesy Sophie Kinsella (sorry, Sophie - I still love you). In fact, this novel has inspired me to spend at least a month in Europe in the future. As soon as I can afford it. Before I'm 40, anyway. I think a ten-year plan is doable.
And maybe I could snag a cute guy with a British accent...