Recipe for an inscrutable cultural phenomenon:
1 insipid protagonist
1 controlling and/or emotionally negligent love interest
1 serious martyr complex
A dash of nonexistent romantic intrigue
A sprinkling of repeated adjectives (His Adonis-like body, perfect face, etc.)
1 tsp historical almost-accuracy (optional)
1 complete lack of parenting skills
1 bottle tequila (any kind)
Mix ingredients together. Let sit on the windowsill for a few days in the hopes that it might at some point spoil, rendering its contents slightly more interesting than the sum of their parts. Then, open tequila bottle and marinade self (remember: only use alcohol you would drink yourself), then look again. Repeat as needed.
To be fair, I liked this one better than the first in places. I think it was because the LURVE OF HER LIFE wasn't in the book for more than a hundred pages.