I don't know how to review this book, it was both shallow, complex and annoying. It wasn't a bad read, but it was never an engrossing read-through-the-night one.

The story is about a flaky school teacher, a Southern belle, about to marry a complex, sensitive author who speaks beautifully and adores her. Naturally he's white. However, she herself is in love, or perhaps just lust, with the singer of a band. He speaks badly, is violent, abusive, has no respect for women and, along with his band members doesn't take guns and shooting at all seriously. Naturally he's black. Absolute stereotypes yes, well-rounded characters, haha, only in the author's mind.

Her best friend is also her therapist. An almost-qualified psychology student who practices weird rituals, speaks therapy-talk, wears a turban and 70s clothes and I was going to say was from New York, naturally, but she could have been from California.

The tension between our heroine and the other three people together with the secondary characters of wicked mother, in-denial sidekick, a paedophile babysitter and the father-figure gardener (black, naturally, we must have balance) is what forms the basis of this book.

I didn't find it "A delicious, warm, and sexy first novel about love, infidelity, and the blues" as the blurb says. It was nasty, racist and more truly about the distinct lack of love between the characters.

The book wasn't entirely unenjoyable as a piece of un-pc froth, but although there is implied depth in the heroine's journey into herself and healing, it doesn't actually materialise and she, like the other characters, remains more or less one dimensional.

It wasn't that bad, it wasn't that good. It was just one of those books you read and forget about quite quickly.

2.5 stars rounded up to 3, meaning it was all right. ( )