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Une jolie romance pleine d'espoir sur l'acceptation de soi
"Vous avez un message" version YA
Un succès mondial
Une jolie romance pleine d'espoir sur l'acceptation de soi
Une savoureuse version YA de " Vous avez un message " avec Meg Ryan et Tom Hanks.
Fan absolue de cinéma, Bailey Ridell a passé son année de lycée à discuter en ligne ave Alex, un geek également passionné des salles obscures. Et peut-être aussi à craquer un peu pour lui... Mais alors qu'elle s'apprête à le rencontrer, elle commence à paniquer. Et si c'était un pervers qui se cachait derrière son écran ? Ou tout simplement une déception dans la vraie vie ?
Dans le petit musée local où elle s'est dégoté un boulot pour l'été, elle se rapproche de Porter, un mystérieux surfer un brin impertinent. Mais avant de décider avec qui elle pourrait partager une belle histoire, Bailey veut découvrir qui est Alex. Elle va donc remonter sa piste pour le retrouver. Tandis que la vérité se dévoile, Bailey devra assumer celle qu'elle est vraiment et faire un choix. Alex, peut-être ?
336 pages, Kindle Edition
First published April 4, 2017
I get a little flustered but not enough to stop wanting the moon muffins.
I'm so ready. I am Mink.
Hear me roar.

Reasons Why this Book is the Greatest™
- It’s a YOU’VE GOT MAIL RETELLING
- Bailey is relatable as hell
- IT’S GENUINELY FUNNY
- Porter Roth owns my heart
- #FRIENDSHIP
- Bailey’s dad
- Porter Roth’s face
- I’M TRASH
- IT’S SO ADDICTIVE YOU CANT STOP READING
- OR SQUEALING
- HONESTLY
- DO YOURSELF A FAVOUR AND READ THE BOOK

The one guy Bailey Rydell can’t stand is actually the boy of her dreams—she just doesn’t know it yet.




Maybe Walt Whitman was right. We all really do contradict ourselves and contain multitudes. How do we even figure out who we really are?
“Bailey, I spend most of my days looking at you through that tiny square screen up there. I’m just grateful to be in the same room. And the fact that you’ll even let me touch you at all is the freaking miracle of the century. So whatever you want or don’t want from me, all you have to do is ask. Okay?”
But despite all that . . . look what he did. Look what he did. For me? And he’s sitting here, in pain, falling apart, and all he’s worried about is that I’m sorry I gave him my number and don’t want to go out on a date with him?
A couple of yards before we hit the ground, he speaks up in a voice so quiet, I can barely hear him. “What I said the other day about you having champagne tastes?” He pauses for a moment. Mr. Reyes is smiling, waiting to unhitch our bar. “I just wanted you to know that I like the way you dress. I like your style. . . . I think it’s sexy as hell.”
He kisses my forehead. “Know what I’m scared of?”
“What?”
“That I like you way too much, and I’m afraid once you get to know me, you’re going to realize that you can do lots better, and you’re going to break my heart and leave me for someone classier.”
If we’re meant to be, and he’s the person I imagine him to be, then things will all work out fine. He’ll be wonderful, and by the end of the summer, we’ll be crazy in love, watching North by Northwest at the film festival on the beach, and I’ll have my hands all over him. Which is what I spend a lot of my free time imagining myself doing to his virtual body, the lucky boy.
..."Like a horse, you know?” He holds his hands up on either side of his eyes. “You plow ahead, and you make a lot of progress that other people wouldn’t make, but you can’t see what’s happening on either side of the road. You have blind spots. You ignore things that are right next to you. Your mom did that all the time.”
A 4 step guide for how to write a 5 star book:
