I bought this novel after becoming desperate for a "guilty pleasures" read whilst on holiday. I don't expect Chekhov from chicklit - chicklit serves its purpose when my brain needs some downtime in the sun! - but I found this novel truly pedestrian, and predictable. Its level of English was an insult to its audience. Even my 9-year-old niece could write a better book! As for the characters, I had absolutely no empathy with the heroine Elizabeth (I hoped that she would be left braindead after inhaling too much Mr Sheen, and the book swiftly end thereafter). I hoped the rebellious sister would be smacked over by a local Irish farmer in his tractor after a few too many pints of Guinnes, and die. As for the "love interest"...! Ivan had about as much charisma as a pair of grey saggy undies. I will never buy another book by Ms Ahern again. My advice is stick to Marian Keyes or Nora Roberts.