Let’s get this out of the way at the start: I love Kristan Higgins’ books. Just love ’em. There is something about the way she writes that wraps around me like a soft, fuzzy blanket. I can’t get enough of them!
Until There Was You is the third book of hers that I’ve read, and it probably ranks #2 on the list (behind My One and Only and in front of Fools Rush In). Set in New England, where all three of them have been, Until There Was You is a love story and nothing more. And it made me cry. The other two didn’t. This one made me cry TWICE.
(As an aside: I usually cry in books, movies, television shows and Bruce Springsteen concerts.)
We meet Posey Osterhagen, daughter of Stacia and Max, who own a kitschy German restaurant called Guten Tag, in a cute, quirky hamlet in New Hampshire. Posey owns an architectural salvaging company (read the symbolism – she rescues things other people want to toss aside) and her life is humming along without great complaint. Sure, she’d like to be bigger – she’s slightly over five feet tall, weighs slightly over 100 pounds, has the metabolism of a 13-year-old boy and, sadly, the boobs of one too – and a fulfilling romantic relationship would be nice, but life treats her well.
But then Liam Declan Murphy re-descends into her life. He broke her heart in high school, albeit unknowingly, and he was her first burning, consuming crush and love. And now he’s back, with his 15-year-old daughter. Posey cannot resist.
Oh, she tries, but we readers know that both, ultimately, will be powerless against the tides of true love. Yes, it’s obvious, but what makes Kristan Higgins so good and fun to read is that she takes you down that path of predictability in an unpredictable way.
For instance, Posey’s first night with Liam is not the stuff of dreams:
Posey’s first thought on waking was not optimistic. No. It was that the sunlight hated her, and, really, God was quite cruel in sending this blindingly painful day, and why did her mouth taste like a landfill for poopy diapers?
She clamped a pillow over her head and groped for the comfort of Shilo. Empty. And hang on a sec … this pillow … it was foam. And her pillows were not. Hers were down. She cracked open an eye. These sheets were blue.
Hers sheets were yellow.
Posey bolted upright, pain kicking her head like an angry mule. Where was she? Holy Elvis Presley, where was she? The room was nowhere she’d ever been. Ever.
It makes me want to read this book again. So hang on a sec while I do …
Better yet, go grab a copy for yourself. And while you’re at it, get My One and Only, which I read a while ago but will review when I can find my copy. Join me in my addiction.
Published by Harlequin books and available on Amazon.com
I bought this book my own self.