Oh dear. I don't relish the task ahead of me. Frankly, looking at somebody's creative effort and saying; 'I can see what you've tried to do here, but you've failed' feels desperately distasteful. But, dear reader, I cannot lie to you, and that's exactly what I have to say.
Actually, to save us both the unpleasantness of a book-assassination, feel free to stop reading this review now. Just don't, whatever you do, go and read Me and Mr Darcy.
Emily Albright has given up on modern men. Instead of going man-hunting in Mexico with her best friend, she books a guided tour of Jane Austen country, determined to immerse herself in the world of her favourite novelist.
Fine. While there, she meets - and starts to date - Mr Darcy. Yep. The Mr Darcy.
Okay, I'll admit, I wasn't in love with this concept to begin with, but I could see that it had potential.
It is, however, the kind of idea that needs to be handled with originality and grace, not flimsy characters and painful over-writing. Every nuance, emotion, and thought is spelled-out in great detail, the effect of which is like being mugged - very slowly - by an elf wielding a dictionary filled with adverbs.
The passages from Pride and Prejudice were shoe-horned into the narrative with all the subtlety of an ice-cold speculum, despite which, the heroine remained blissfully unaware of the parallels between events in her life and the book she supposedly adores. The only possible conclusion being that she is an imbecile.
In fact, the heroine's 'voice' made me want to scratch my own eyes out, which is particularly tiresome in a first-person narrative. Emily Albright is supposed to be American. However, despite continually making reference to this fact, she uses so many British words and phrases, that it was impossible to believe that she had spent more than a handful of nights in the US.
And, while we are on the subject of disbelief, a book billed as a 'feel-good fairy tale' is unlikely to be chock-a-block with gritty realism, but I do expect it to be believable within the confines of the story.
Unfortunately, I didn't believe in Potter's version of Mr Darcy (who sounded nothing like Austen's creation), I didn't believe in the painfully-pedestrian sub-plots, and I didn't believe in the heroine.
Rating: 1/5
Like this only non-fiction and non-rubbish? Try: Flirting with Pride and Prejudice
