On the face of it, Rebecca Bloomwood has it all. Confident, single and happily living in des-res Fulham with her best friend Suze, she's a financial journalist who spends her days writing articles advising other people on the importance of budgeting and prudent investing. Her private life is a different story though; Rebecca manages her own finances in a way that would make most of her readers' hair curl--for Rebecca is a woman on a mission--she just can't stop spending. I look up and I'm in front of Octagon. My favourite shop in the whole world. Three floors of clothes, accessories, furnishing, gifts, coffee shops, juice bars and a florist which makes you want to fill your entire home with flowers. I've got my purse with me. Just something small, to cheer me up. A T-shirt or something. Or even some bubble bath. I won't spend much. I'll just go in and... I'm already pushing my way through the doors. Oh God, the relief. The warmth, the light. This is where I belong. This is my natural habitat. As the plot unfolds, Rebecca finds increasingly bizarre and often highly comical ways to ignore her ever-growing debts and mounting pile of unpaid Visa bills and red bank statements. Got a bill you can't pay? No problem. Just take it out for a walk and deposit it in the nearest skip whilst no-one is looking. Need to justify that £120 velvet scarf? Don't worry! It was a snip at half price in the sale, so what initially looks like a splurge is actually an example of canny discount shopping. Rebecca's disastrous love life mirrors her finances. And her career seems to be taking a turn for the worse, too. That is, until she finds a financial story that really sparks her journalistic interest, and begins to spar with handsome and successful financial PR millionaire Luke Brandon. Witty, light-hearted and often hilarious, The Secret Dreamworld of a Shopaholic is the ideal read for anyone who has ever found themselves mentally justifying rash purchases in their heads, or buying just one more pair of black trousers because they are so different from the other eight pairs in their wardrobe. --Emily Lowson