Amazon.com Review
What is it with Catholic girls anyway? In Christina Bartolomeo's
Cupid and Diana, Diana Campanella, a decidedly '90s woman with a penchant for early-'50s fashion, can't help but wonder if there isn't more to life. True, making the switch from her dull government job to ownership of a vintage clothing shop has been a personal victory. But the shop is about to go the way of the corset, and Diana's bank balance is dangerously low. Meanwhile, acting as referee between her head-butting sisters (a professional lingerie model in one corner, a perfect Catholic housewife in the other) is intolerable at best. And lawyer-fiancé Philip--handsome, well-dressed, a veritable Clark Kent with a bankroll--provides Diana with stability, security, and a notable shortage of profound passion.
Enter one Harry Sandburg, a displaced New York lawyer with a five o'clock shadow and a rumpled suit to match: "He had the sort of sweet and sad smile some Jewish guys have. It radiated a wry self-deprecation in which there was nothing humble or cringing." Harry is witty, wise, and utterly endearing. To make matters worse, their fervent lovemaking is enough to peel paint from the walls--a fact Diana learns one sweltering evening after a little too much Chianti and meatballs. Profound passion? Yes. But Harry's staying power is questionable, and Diana isn't getting any younger. Amidst mounds of manicotti and family feuds, vintage Roxbury suits and dreary Washington, D.C., political events, Diana struggles to choose between what she should do and what she truly wants. Funny, warm, sophisticated, and intelligent, Bartolomeo's debut is a keen romantic comedy packed with both fictional and fashionable delights. --Stefanie Hargreaves
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Fans of gentle contemporary romance will enjoy this debut effort from Bartolomeo, a teachers' union organizer whose short stories have run in
Cosmopolitan. Diana Campanella grew up in Maryland, worked for the federal government, then decided to buy a District of Columbia consignment shop. She inherited her interest in clothes from her mother, who was Irish, drank too much, and died while Diana was away at college. Her 71-year-old
paesano father and Catholic-matron sister Francesca don't understand Diana's entrepreneurial fling; neither does longtime fiancePhilip, a workaholic attorney whose southern family has wielded power in Washington for generations. Her sister Cynthia--recognizable to millions as lead model for a widely circulated lingerie catalog--wants to liven up Diana's business . . . and her social life. She introduces Diana to Harry, a lawyer from New York who's as rumpled and working-class as Philip is crisp and high society. Nothing startlingly original here, and background characters are undeveloped, but Bartolomeo's leads are involving, and thirtysomething women readers will relate to them.
Mary Carroll
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
