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17 April 2008


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What gets me is the grasping the bark of the oak part. If I'm holding onto a tree hoping it will suck me in, the bark isn't what I'm grasping. I take the whole-trunk approach.


I tried starting this book TWICE, while desperate for reading in the middle of the night. I found myself preferring to stare at the alarm clock rather than try to read this one. I have no idea what all the fuss about this one is.


I was pretty shocked that so many people have loved it. It wasn't just the writing -- the characters were flat, the plot was dull (and has been done done done done done) and the heaving bosom scenes weren't even steamy or sensual or anything.

Saying this book is a cross between Buffy and Jane Austen is an insult to both. I'm going to try and find some Georgette Heyer books to cleanse my palate.

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