I read this book first, despite it being the seventh in the series, for my book club, but Wodehouse does an excellent job of making sure the reader can jump right in without missing a beat. I'm not sure how to categorize this book (is it a mystery? a comedy? utter nonsense?) but I can say with certainty that it is sidesplittingly funny. I love that it was written in 1938 and despite that date the main character abbreviates words like he's trying to fit his witticisms into a tweet, and the characters send telegrams like text messages. Highly recommend when you need something light and funny.

I love this trilogy. It satisfies my craving for high tech gadgets (trains that take two hours from NY to LA, flowers that sense your temperature and change colors like mood rings, shopping without having to try on clothes), gossip, and teen angst. This was packed full of emotion and realistic behavior wrapped up in a bow of thank-god-this-isn't-dystopian-I'd-actually-want-to-live-in-this-future.

A mediocre prequel that isn't even about Amelia Grey with insipid characters and a metric fuckload of poor editing: entire swathes of text are italic, words are missing, and typos abound.

This book will definitely warm your heart, will definitely make you want some cider, and possibly will make you do that snuffle thing where you pretend you don't want to cry.

It's a cutesy, achingly midwestern love story about all kinds of love: romantic, familial, arboreal.

Would recommend to anyone in need of a feel good fall read.

I hate stories where I have to turn every page going "Christ, main character, don't do this. Oh God, no, don't do that either. Oh my God what is wrong with you?!"

This is one of those books.