I read a rave review of this memoir and it sounded so heartfelt, amusing and charming that I got a copy. Unfortunately, its charm was lost on me. It's basically a slog through the author's delusional dating history (hopeful but clearly not paying attention to who's in front of her) - the failures are blamed on whatever book/movie romance she's obsessed with at the moment - until she finally finds true love. I was hoping for more stories of her 16 years of editing romance novels at Harlequin, but that's not what this is about. It might make a very cute 120 minute movie on the Hallmark Channel.

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