After spending last Valentine's Day in a state of "Delirium," about a futuristic society in which love is considered a chemically curable disease, we've been waiting all year for the chance to sink our teeth into Lauren Oliver's next dystopian tome. Because seriously, we feel about this book the way most people feel about a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolate truffles. (Which is to say that we want to hide in the bathroom with it and polish it off in one uninterrupted sitting while our significant other bangs on the door and shouts, "What are you doing in there?!")

But alas, it was not...