A prime example of the Gossip Lit genre, which began its ascent after The Nanny Diaries and The Devil Wears Prada hit the scene, The Right Address could have been an amusing, albeit extreme, expose of the lives of the rich and well, rich. However, the unsteady cadence of the novel, coupled with the absence of any real human emotion, turn this effort into simply one nasty gossip session after another. The reader never feels invested in any of the many characters, and even when our heroine comes to her senses, there's no real sense of relief or delight. So while the tell-all nature of the book may make it hard to put down, the only real joy lies in the fact it ends quickly. --Gisele Toueg

I'm Laura Finnegan – thrift store junkie and scholarship student at Tate, our posh all–girls high school in Manhattan. I'm not like Whit or Soph, but that doesn't stop us from being BFFs. But then they started tuning in to the all–Sweet Sixteen, all–the–time channel. Now tempers are flaring, Prada bags are flying, and guys are being tossed around in vicious tug–of–war battles. Whose Sweet Sixteen will reign supreme?

—Attend photo shoot on pier at sunset.

—Get invited to NYC's most exclusive parties.

—Walk big star's makeup artist's assistant's dog.

—Fetch dry cleaning when it arrives from Paris.

There's nothing run-of-the-mill about working at Skirt, the preeminent fashion magazine. I'm Kira Parker, total fashion junkie. I thought I had it made when I landed this job. Ha. I mean, don't get me wrong—working at Skirt is amazing. And spending the summer in New York City without my parents? Golden. But now I'm up against Daphne Hughes, daughter of the magazine's owner. What Daphne wants, she gets—all wrapped up in a cute Coach bag. She's already got the guy of my dreams and all the right connections. Now she thinks she'll get the plum position working for the editor in chief without even lifting a diamond-adorned pinky? This catwalk is primed for battle.