KIRKUS REVIEW
Rebecca Bloomwood is back, and she still owes everybody money: a rehash of the much funnier Confessions of a Shopaholic (2001).
No matter. Rebecca’s on her way to Manhattan, where true love Luke Brandon plans to open a branch office of his London p.r. firm. Loyal flatmate Suze is helping her pack, even though Rebecca doesn’t have a thing to wear, really. So she goes shopping . . . for necessities, of course, like sexy high-heeled sandals in an ineffable shade of pale orange. She can’t afford them, actually, but she can’t live without them either. Overdraft? What overdraft? Bank manager Derek Smeath is such a darling, darling man; he’ll let her get away with anything. After all, she’s the financial reporter for the TV chat show Morning Coffee, whose millions of viewers rely on the down-to-earth advice she dispenses in snappy sound bites. Knowing nothing of Rebecca’s spendthrift ways, a noted British publisher awaits the complete manuscript of her guide to money management, and an American TV network plans a screen test. Rebecca is on the verge of worldwide fame—and the ultimate retail orgasm of her life: Fifth Avenue. Isn’t it bloody marvelous that American money doesn’t even look real? She shops till she drops, while Luke (her true love, remember?) is struggling to please his stateside investors. Then a British tabloid breaks the awful news: Rebecca is deep in debt, utterly incapable of managing her own money, let alone anyone else’s. Someone has betrayed her—but why? She’s heartbroken, and she’s ruined. No TV show. No bestselling book. And no Luke. What to do . . . . ?
Lackluster.
