S went to his cottage on the lake last night so I had a free Friday evening to do whatever the heck I wanted.
So I read.
And drank wine.
I finished Into the Fire by Suzanne Brockmann. (And can I just say here that I LOVE her? I will happily plop down my moolah months in advance to buy books through her virtual signings. Because, hullo?, SIGNED COPIES.) And I'm a total book snob when it comes to her books. For years I had a no-lend policy with her books. What if someone didn't return them? What if they got damaged? I would be verrah verrah bitter towards the borrower and would carry a grudge for a long time, I'm sure. So it was better all around if I kept them at home. On my shelf. Where they belong.
Broke my no-lend rule last evening when my best friend of 20+ years stopped by. I lent her my precious copy of Taylor's Temptation and Flashpoint and made sure she knew that our next 20+ years of friendship are contingent upon the safe return of my books.
Also did something I haven't done in FOREVER last night. I pulled an all-night Reading Binge. After finishing Into the Fire about 11:30, I immediately picked up and plowed through (again) another of Brockmann's books -- All Through The Night.
Why, you ask?
Because I COULD.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
2 comments:
I only ever lend ANY books to my dad, and that's only because I have a key to his house.
Hon? That's just awesome. I used to be like that with Anne Rice. I still don't lend out my copies of her books.
Post a Comment