I don't care what others say about Sarah-Kate Lynch's books, I love them. They are formulaic yes, exotic and romantic settings lushly and sensuously described, there is a young woman immersed in some sort of crisis, usually involving a broken heart, there are older and wiser people who guide and help our young heroine to a better, happier and simpler existence. Plus there is always lurrrve. What a recipe, fool proof, delicious and satisfying to read. She must get such a kick out of writing these escapist fluff-tales, they are just so intensely enjoyable to read.

Connie Farrell lives in New York. She is a restaurant critic, married to Tom who is a chef. She is on her way to Venice for a second honeymoon, but unfortunately Tom never turns up for the flight, so she wings her way to Venice alone, upset, defeated and worried about the future of her marriage. But this is Venice, you can't possibly be alone here! So after locking eyes with a gondolier, Marco, she finds herself on a whirl wind love-food feast of Venice.

There are hints in the narrative that things aren't quite right with Connie. A sudden collapse sends her back to New York, lying in a hospital bed, suffering from amnesia, with a life she doesn't recognise. What on earth happened to her, where is Marco, where is Tom? And why on earth is her horrible mother sitting on the end of the bed? Worst of all she has lost her sense of smell and taste, rendering her career as a restaurant critic completely redundant. What is a girl to do?

It is clever, surprising, full of twists and surprises. Adorable. Not so for a range of other reviewers who think it too cliched with stereotyped characters, Connie not at all resembling a born and bred New Yorker, the dialogue clunky, but I don't care! It's entertaining, easy to read, full of surprises, flawed characters, new beginnings and lurrrve. Wonderful stuff.

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