It was ok. I really wanted to like it, since I love Mary on Writing Excuses. Usually when the author narrates his/her own book, it is a disaster, but not so for this one. She does a really good job.
The story is gentle, mellow. All the Jane Austen touches are nice, but it is too much like a 'faded copy'. I know how much effort she put into it, that's why I want to love it... but I don't. It's merely OK.
Maybe I shouldn't have reread all that noir urban fantasy right before reading this. Maybe I should have eased myself into it by reading more similar works first.

However, it got more interesting near the end. There was finally some action. Less sighing, swooning and moping around, more doing.
I think I'm just not the female romance kind of woman (even though I love Jane Austen).