I really wanted to like this book, but I couldn't finish it. I enjoyed the historical aspect, about the discovery of penicillin and how it changed everything. We of the post-penicillin generation don't remember or appreciate how many children (and adults) died painful deaths from seemingly harmless injuries like skinned knees or minor cuts which then became infected. Died! But I did not enjoy the romance aspect at all. In fact, it was so annoying, it killed the story for me. A divorced woman with a young son (and a daughter who died of an infection) is a photographer for the new and popular Life magazine. She's a real professional, but she's also beautiful, plucky, and a swell dresser. She's doing a story on a doctor testing a new thing called penicillin. He's a real professional and totally dedicated, but he's also handsome and unable to stop thinking about the touching the photographer's breasts. He works with his sister, who is a scientist in her own right. She's a dedicated professional, but also stunningly beautiful. Seeing a trend here? I couldn't stick with it long enough to find out if it was a mass-market bodice-ripper masquerading as a hard-headed look at scientific history or a good science history using cheap romance stereotypes as a hook. If someone else can, let me know.