I didn't finish this book. I had been vaguely enjoying it, in the kind of way you do when you don't have anything else gripping or interesting to read. But I had to fly in an airplane in the middle of reading the book; I am not a fan of flying, and having consumed too much Titanic literature as a teen and twentysomething, I am always on the look out for my own personal disaster story in the making. I've been on two cruise ships iceberg free so far in my life, but hey -- you never know. I thought reading about a disaster while flying would actually court disaster. I gave the book up, and now I just don't want to return to it. And - this is Titanic lite. That's all the Lusitania is, isn't it - a shipwreck that won't ever be as romantic or interesting as the Titanic.
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