If The Blonde Identity was a candy, it would be SweeTarts. Sugar loaded, sure, but with a great sour pucker too. Ally Carter writes a witty, rom-com version of The Bourne Identity. The first two sentences set the stage perfectly.
”Here's the thing about waking up with no memory in the middle of the night, in the middle of the street, in the middle of Paris: at least you're waking up in Paris. Or so the woman thought as she lay on the cold ground, staring up through a thick layer of falling snow at the Eiffel Tower's twinkling lights.”
No accident that the novel is set in Paris, a city closely associated with romance. Also no accident that the guy with a gun who appears and tells her to run is the hottest guy she has (probably) ever seen. Events unfold and it becomes obvious that the hot guy, the CIA, and the Russians all think she is Alex, her twin sister. Who she also doesn't remember.
I loved how Zoe (because that's what she and Sawyer figure out her name must be) kept trying to describe their situation in romance-trope terms. And Sawyer keeps telling her not to. “Oh, is this enemies to lovers?” When they are pretending to be a honeymoon couple, Zoe is saying, “ Oh, fake marriage! Oh, only one bed!” So by halfway through, I figured that she must be a romance author.
Sawyer keeps trying to maintain his distance. He knows her badass sister, but Zoe is nothing like her. Zoe is sweet and sassy, but also a lot tougher than she looks and smarter than he gave her credit for. She makes him smile despite himself. (She's very funny throughout.) So we know where this ship is headed—the question is whether they will all survive to the end.
Delightful! A wonderful palate cleanser before heading into a couple of more serious mysteries. I have The Blonde Who Came in From the Cold on hold at the library and I can hardly wait to get my hands on it!
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