Sex, cigarettes, and self-pity.
Newly divorced freelance-journalist Samantha leaves New York and heads for London. Why, oh why, did David, trendy photographer, dump her for a beautiful model? Perhaps Georgia Green will know. Georgia is American but married (unhappily) to David’s best friend, the oh-so-British Andrew. She’s clever, successful, and even has a requisite fetish for chick-lit plots: she’s still obsessing over split ends at age 35. When not twiddling her hair, she’s a literary agent, with one very successful client, Eugenie Woodrow, the author of Let Her Go, a thriller about three beauties who fall in love with their deranged but sexy kidnapper. At the moment, Eugenie has a bad case of writer’s block—but she comes up with an utterly marvelous idea. Perhaps Samantha’s miserable experiences could be appropriated for her next novel! Given enough alcohol and other encouragement, Samantha could even be an avenging angel, taking revenge on all bastards—beginning with John Rankin, the handsome gynecologist who jilted sweet young Jilly and others. Too naïve to say no, Samantha lets the two older women take over. Eugenie advises her on clothes and makeup, while Georgia delves into more intimate areas, like the removal of unfashionable body hair. A day or two later, painted, primped, and waxed to the shrieking point, Sam ventures into Rankin’s lair. He’s smitten with the young American, who continues to play the game even though faintly disgusted by the doctor’s overconfident lechery. Then she finds a list of all his lovers and their ratings, in stars. The trio looks for names they know, mostly in order to stir up more pointless trouble—and so it goes.
Recycled farce from the author of Second Wives (1999), filled with dopey puns and dated pop-culture references. Earth to author: Phil Donahue is off the air and Princess Diana is dead.