It’s very rare for me to not finish a book - this is one of them. It started with such promise: a bookshop; lots of literary name-dropping; Melbourne setting. But the girl drove me nuts, her friend has no moral compass and that’s apparently ok. The idea of leaving books on trains with a note, in the hope that the perfect man will pick one up, read it and contact her is simply ridiculous. No man is going to pick up Jane Austen or the Rosie Project! Perhaps I’m the wrong demographic for this book, as I can see many readers loved it. I didn’t.