Holland has a wild crush on Calvin, an itinerant, Irish, guitarist playing near a Manhattan subway stuff. One drunken night, Holland works up the nerve to ask him his name, then bolts into the station where she is harassed by a scuzzy man who apparently pushes her onto the subway tracks. When she wakes up with a broken arm, kind-hearted souls assume she’s tried to commit suicide. She hasn’t.
One night she goes to a bar in New Jersey with her friend Lulu to see a not quite on the top of the charts band. Lo and behold! Calvin is there playing his guitar and they strike up a conversation.
My first impression is that this book is well-written chicklit. I’m not sure it’s my cup of tea.
One night she goes to a bar in New Jersey with her friend Lulu to see a not quite on the top of the charts band. Lo and behold! Calvin is there playing his guitar and they strike up a conversation.
My first impression is that this book is well-written chicklit. I’m not sure it’s my cup of tea.