Just Between You and Me

I confess I’ve gotten a little frustrated with some popular fiction out there. You know, those books that get made into movies, so suddenly everyone is reading them, and you read them, thinking, I’ll just follow the other literary lemmings off this deceptively-bland looking cliff. And then you’re stuck treading water in a meaningless story, hoping the author will come along and throw you a plot-saving life preserver.

No, I’m not bitter. I just won’t get those hours of my precious leisure time back. And, really, that’s nobody’s fault but my own.

This is why reading Just Between You and Me by Jenny B. Jones was like sailing away from a brain-clouded existence and discovering life, love, adventure, and orange soda-loving natives in a tropical paradise.

What? You don’t get the metaphor?

Ok, I’ll be plain. Just Between You and Me is a perfect example of what women’s fiction is supposed to be—moving, meaningful, and freaking hilarious.

From the get-go, I was in love with the author’s style, her stellar one-liners, the expertly woven threads of tension, and the sizzling romance. A word on the yummiest part of any women’s fiction, romantic tension:

Less is more.

Less is more.

One more time.

Less is more.

That being said, Ms. Jones gets it done, ladies. The tension between the hero and heroine made my mouth water, their banter is divine, and their kisses had me searching out my technology-addicted husband and surprising the glasses right off his face.

And yet, I did not feel like I’d mistakenly wandered into the wrong bedroom and reluctantly received the education of a lifetime. One delicious kiss is worth a thousand tawdry euphemisms. And so, I thank Jenny B. Jones, for giving me exactly what I wanted without making me blush.

On the more serious side, the drama in this book has depth. I was impressed with the way the author portrayed some harsh realities about mental illness and its effects. The character of Riley, a neglected little girl, is drawn so clearly that I could see her hardened little face and hear her angry words. And, as in the real world, there are no pat solutions, but that doesn’t mean there’s no hope.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book, but please don’t read it unless you like to be entertained, to laugh out loud, and be reminded that life is about more than self-preservation. However, if all of those things are as appealing as a dentist visit to you, then I can recommend some truly boring slogs for your reading pleasure. Just don't say I didn't give you options.