The premise of this book sounded enchanting and nostalgic, but it was just not my type of book at all. One reviewer called it ‘lacy’, and I think that’s an apt description.
This is a story about a man who collects lost things he finds, labels them, then makes up little stories about these lost things. When he dies, he passes on his huge collection to his house assistant, asking her to reunite each of them with its owner.
I didn’t personally enjoy the style of writing or the characters, and found the writing and story ‘cute’. It’s just very sickly sweet, with slightly superficial characters and unbelievable scenes. But that being said, if you’re interested in a soft, quirky, cozy romance, this might be your type of thing. It just wasn’t mine.