You'd have to have lived in a hole in the ground to not recognize the Mr. Darcy trend that's swept, and is currently sweeping, the literary market. Women everywhere are losing their shit over the dark and handsome hero of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. It's a fad comparable to Twilight and Harry Potter. (I apologize to any seriously offended over those titles so closely seated in the same sentence.)
I've never been that intrigued, truly. While I do love Ms. Austen and her novels, and I suppose Mr. Darcy by extension, I've never been so enamored with his character. He's actually quite a jerk. A cold, prideful jerk.
Which is where I'd like to start my little review. Dear Author Potter has turned Mr. Darcy into a sterile, unintelligent mess. The heroine, Emily Albright, is generally unlikable and immature. If we're to assume that Potter is forcing similarities between Emily and Lizzie B - well...forcing is then quite an appropriate word. If we're to believe that Mr. Darcy would feel any attraction toward Emily, when we don't quite like her, it's rather insulting to those of us rooting for Lizzie.
Here's a snippet from the back cover:
After a string of disastrous dates, Emily Albright decides she's had it with love. She'd much rather curl up with Pride and Prejudice
and spend her time with Mr. Darcy, the dashing, honorable, and
passionate hero of Jane Austen's classic. So when her best friend
suggests a wild week of margaritas and men in Mexico with the girls,
Emily abruptly flees to England on a guided tour of Jane Austen country
instead...
The story had a lot of potential (like the snarky Spike Hargreaves, Emily's obvious intended) but I have a feeling that even the die-hard Darcy fans will not approve of this one.
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