This is going to be a short review, but I cannot begin to say how disappointed I am with this book.I picked up Beverley Kendall's "When in Paris..." looking for a refreshing read and I think the moment I hit about page 16 or 17, I realized what the problem with the narrative was - the style of the writing. It did not work for the story at all - it was mostly telling, not showing, and none of the characters were identifiable. Their voices didn't feel authentic, the only thing that really defined them were their pining feelings for each other, lust over each other's bodies, and jealousy factors for each other's competing love interests. Seriously, it was the only thing I really got out of this story in the read and getting through the story was a chore. People do not think or act like this in real life and it was incredibly shallow and a struggle to read.It tries to evoke a college atmosphere, but that was threadbare; it tries to define some of the other characters and their relationships, but there's a lot of naming and shaming, girl on girl confrontations and drama that felt manufactured for the sake of conflict. It seemed like the only reason Zach hated Olivia initially was because she seemed like she was fake, down to her boobs. To which she grabs his hands and let's her handle her boobs to show they are real. Not long after that, they fall in love. I didn't feel a bit of it, sadly. The conflicts to that love felt just as static as the development of their relationship, and the trip to Paris? Not evocative. I actually became angry as a revelation about one of the characters came to pass near the end of the book, and it felt like that was thrown in just to supposedly drive the characters further together. I think from the style of the writing and feeling like the experience was a waste of time, I'll be skipping the rest of the series.Overall score: 0.5/5Note: I received this as an ARC from NetGalley, from the publisher Season Publishing.