This is one of the worst books I've ever attempted to read, in fact so bad that I feel compelled to spend a few minutes wrtiing about it. How on earth could this author or her editor let a person in the 16th century find something "electrifying" and in "Present Day" let the heroine, no matter how tough, waltz down 5th Avenue with a multi-million dollar manuscript, that someone had just died over, in her bag. Wish I'd read the other reviews before wasting my money.