Here's the love story of two ordinary people. You know, the story of a "mobbed-up" catholic girl from Chicago with a record and a penchant for black clothing (can we call this code for 'goth'?), and a wealthy London man who is also an artistocrat, very talented closet artist, totally ripped and inhumanly gorgeous. So yeah, two ordinary, everyday people.
But I can put aside the fact that I think these two people are completely unrealistic.
Cath's character (and yes, her name is Mary Catherine and she goes by 'Cath'. Which is really cringe worthy to me -- 'cath' is medical slang) is confusing. Either Ruthie Knox intended her character to be emotionally scatterbrained, or Ruthie didn't quite have her own feelings sorted out on the matter of how to write Cath. There was a dangerous moment here when I thought we'd have to hear Cath deliberate between "Bad Cath" and "New Cath" through the entire book. I think there was an attempt here to do a slow reveal toward the true emotional issues, but it just didn't work. Honey, we knew you were effed up from the beginning.
Neville's character on the other hand was very straight forward. He is a coward, and sometimes an idiot. That brillant plan for revenge against your meddling mother didn't work so well, aye?
I really wanted to like this book. I liked the Ruthie Knox novella How to Misbehave. I liked her writing in that it was sexy and light. I liked her characters. It was all around enjoyable.
I'm not sure I thought this reading experience was terribly enjoyable. I finished it, but it took some effort. And for erotica, I thought the sex was very blaise.
Overall I think my high expectations is what killed this for me. And I feel pretty guilty about my rating given that it wasn't a bad book, most reviewers really like it in fact, but it fell short for me.