More Than You Know by Jo Goodman
Everything is the woman’s fault. Always!

Everything is the woman’s fault. Always!

Everyone wants this author to be the new Susan Elizabeth Phillips. God, I hope not – she should aim to be better than that author!

I have no idea, and I just can’t.

It’s pretty disquieting how the heroine can spend years on the streets but is still an innocent dingbat through and through.

The hero is the most boring kind of broken record.

What starts out fun ends up contrived and annoying.

World War 2 is over, but dang, those killers don’t waste time getting back to business.

Maybe some actual hot chocolate can make this better.

Maybe the novelty is gone, but I find this one too corny for my tastes.

It’s unnerving just how much the author enjoys humiliating her heroine.
