After being laid off when her IT firm went bust, Jenny Porter decided that she’d never work for anyone but herself again. She became a virtual assistant, which is essentially a glorified secretary, even though she rarely meets her clients. Then, one of her clients, M. R. Grant-Dempsey, decides to send her into the wilds of Scotland to check out Dalmain Mills to see whether it’s worth salvaging.
Once in the wilds of Scotland, away from her increasingly insufferable boyfriend, Henry (yes, he really is that bad), she discovers that not only does she really like Scotland, enjoy working in a fast food stand, and want to find a way to salvage the mill, she is really attracted to possibly the least amiable man in the region: Ross Grant. (Yes, it is who you think it is.)
This book is pure fluff. Really. There’s no way around it. It’s predictable, enjoyable, fluffy romance, where you want the guy to get with the girl, and the stupid, silly boyfriend out of the way. Everything else about the plot is immaterial. There isn’t much sex, though Fforde does know how to write a good kiss and good chemistry between her two leads. Which is really all that matters.
Not a bad way to spend some time, I think.
Rated: High for about a dozen f-bombs, and one off-screen sex scene.