Finished! 
 *does a happy dance* 
 I could never write a story where the main character is a celebrity, or a famous person. Hats off to people who do. It's because I can't relate. Nothing can be more awful, than having your privacy taken away and consumed by the world. I'm not a groupie. Even as a kid, my head was screwed onto my shoulders, as I watched my friends claim ownership to the Jonas Brothers, and sigh over their purity rings. I know panting over the obligatory boyband is a rite of passage, but I guess I skipped that stage altogether? Although I liked a few, I never cyber-stalked them or fantasized about them. 
 Weird, right? 
 The closest to a celebrity crush I got was when I watched a korean drama, fell in love with the male lead character, looked up the actor, spent 30 mins staring at his pictures, then writing his name with biro on my wrist. Then that very night, I went to bed heart-broken because I was in "love" with him, but he didn't even know I existed. As I lay there, my eyes a watery sheen, I wondered how you could love someone, when they didn't even know you existed. My heart broke irreparably. Two days later, I was over it. 
 Freaky. 
 That's how quickly, I am able to "fall" for someone, realize how stupid I'm being and compartmentalize my feelings. 
 I've always been ruled by logic. 
 And it freaks me the fuck out. 
 Is this a self-preventative measure? 
 Anyways, this book is about Levee Williams, America's sweetheart, who routinely heads up a bridge (to possibly, or possibly not commit suicide) where she meets a fellow lonely soul, called Sam Rivers. Sam is tattooed, a chain smoker and has demons of his own. Calling her 'Designer Shoes' they fall for each other hard and fast, but because Levee has dark demons, I could buy into it and I greatly enjoyed this story. He proposes kinda fast, but the fact they wait a year, and they're still together 3 years later, reassures me somewhat. It stopped me from crying out this relationship is too fast-moving. 
 I'm glad Devon didn't sell a story.