This was a bit unexpected. Based on the title and the author’s definition of the word “lemoncholy” I thought this was YA. It is not. See? Unexpected! Having shifted gears to adult novel mode and noting that the book isn’t listed as romance, I thought myself safe from insta-love. I was not. Unexpected! I enjoyed the little bit of romance anyway, though I confess my eyes did roll a little. Unexpected! (The enjoyment, not the eye-rolling.)
Seriously now, I did enjoy this for the most part. Some of the “coincidences” were hard to swallow (but you get that with time travel) and were visible from miles and decades away. The ending was saccharine-sweet with nearly every sub-plot happily resolved and tied up with neat little bows, and yet at least two things that I can think of never got explained, one of which is really bothering me. So it was a mostly satisfying read that tried too hard at the end but still left me with a pleasant buzz.
I do wonder, though, with all that vintage Victorian clothing piled around Annie’s house, wouldn’t the whole place smell like great-grandma’s closet? And who stores vintage clothing in piles in the first place?! Take care of that stuff! Sheesh!
I read this for the Halloween Bingo 2018 Supernatural square.