I have such a love/hate/love/hate/love relationship with Megan Hart books. Amazing characters, real, flawed, full of issues, lots of conflict mixed with emotional highs. I love her first person narration. I hate the flippy-floppy worried feeling I get in my stomach when I realize how fucked up some of her characters are, it's painful waiting for the other shoe to drop. Same with some of the interwoven stories. So I put my kobo down, only to glower at it for a minute, then pick it up and keep reading.
I liked all of these characters, and I fell in love with Sam, but ...
WHY WAS HE WITH THE BLOND BIMBO AT THE END? That seemed really out of character. Totally like Hart to drop a bomb at the end and just let the broken pieces settle back together, sort of, maybe, who knows ... gah!!!!! That's most of the hate for this book.
Loved seeing Jack again, and now I'm going to go back to Naked and look for his and Sarah's storyline there again, because I didn't make the connection before.
As with all Megan Hart books, I finished this one with a bittersweet sigh. Loved it, flaws and all, terrified to start another one, know that I will inevitably feel the pull and start the cycle all over again.