I've enjoyed mayle's books in the past. While they aren't great works, I find them to be wonderful escapist vacation reading. Here he uses pretty girls, French food, high living and scenery to carry the otherwise unremarkable story. These gratuitous flourishes weren't enough to keep my interest, though I did finish the book. Mayle is capable of much better writing than this. Read his other books, but do not waste your time with this one. He really should be a little ashamed of himself.