Oh dear, has this author lost all fondness for nuance in her stories?

If Donald Trump weren’t born in Queens, New York, I’d think the hero of this one is his great-great-great-great-grandpappy.

Want to read a fun story? Too bad; here, have instead another beautiful duo whining that life isn’t going their way.

This is a well-written book that still leaves a bitter aftertaste.

The romance sees the author back in fine form, but the plot is pure “Yikes!” material.

Oh, could it be? Could the author be getting back her mojo? This is one happy day!

The author still has it. Now, if only she would apply her magic to her longer works.

Wow, this must be one of the most wrong romances I’ve read, and it’s still early in the year.

I’m convinced the main characters don’t like one another at all. Perhaps this one should have been marketed as “fiction”?