Although, as the holder of a degree in English Literature and therefore a literary snob/Jane Austen freak, I probably shouldn't admit in public to reading (and enjoying) anything written after 1970, let alone something described as "chick-lit", sometimes I am a trifle wayward in my reading habits. But it's hammock reading season, so forgive me.
Yup, I am reading Wanna Get Lucky?, and yup, it definitely fits the bill for trashy hammock (or beach, should you not be the albino that I am) reading. Thank goodness Nut Boy is away at camp, so there's one less person to notice I'm not getting a single thing done until I finish it...
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