How would you like to spend some time in the head of an anxious former child genius? Yes? Then this is the book for you!
Your host for this trip will have suffered a massive and public breakdown in her teens and is now living a reclusive existence under an assumed name. She holds down a job as a financial whizz, largely working from home, but don’t worry – you won’t get the boring numbers in detail. She has the company of a cat who wandered in off the street, and that’s about it.
Your heroine’s life begins to change when she’s sent on assignment to a client’s office, forcing her into contact with humans, and the negotiation of the public transport network. Her journey to and from her temporary office takes her past a music community project, and some joyful music being played. What a difference from her own stressful experience of music! She dares to stop and listen. She dares to go to an open evening.
And, what’s this? Could the music school be run by a gorgeous and driven and understanding and single and talented lesbian? One who thinks our anxious recluse is just gorgeous and amazing? Why, yes! It could!
And could her work colleagues be nice people that she actually might like hanging out with? Yes!
So far, so good. But why don’t I love it?
Partly because I struggle with these journeys in which the first sexual experience quickly extends to sex on desks etc. (but actually, hell, why not? I’m probably just jealous because my first sexual experience didn’t lead to sex on desks.) Also, the plot twist is easy to spot a mile off. But mostly it’s just a bit too much time in an angsty head for me. So, if you like your heroines to be a bit angsty, and some rampant sexual liberation, go for it.
Thanks for your review. This book sounds so formulaic. Hmm, a recluse meeting a ‘gorgeous and driven and understanding and single and talented lesbian.’ I think I’ve read that somewhere before. And sex on a desk is not nearly as much fun as it sounds.
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