Frankie Daniels is a tough city detective who is re-assigned to a small town police job, much to her humiliation. Her new boss, gorgeous Matt Webber, fancies her, but Frankie is still vulnerable after a disastrous affair with a married man, and afraid to get involved again. Naturally, being tough, she wears jeans and swears and doesn't cook, but sucha deplorable state of affairs is not allowed to continue for long. Every woman she meets sets about the task of feminising Frankie, tecahing her to cook, or to wear makeup, or to buy satin underwear, until by the end of the book she is so completely feminised she is worrying about what to wear for a date with Matt, isn't that so cute? Reading this book is like watching one of those ghastly musicals, Annie get Your Gun, or Calamaity Jane, in which a tomboy heroine is relentlessly prettied up and domesticated in order to make her fit to associate with men. What was wrong with Frankie as she was? Actually, her toughness is pretty unconvincing anyway, she's about as tough as marshmallow. This book made me nauseous.