I liken this book to a can of Pringles, or bag of cookies. You know when you break the snack open that it’s not the best thing for you, but that’s fine because you’ll have only one or two. Okay, maybe you’ll only have two or three. And then by the time you finally summon the resolution to just put the munchies down, you’ve eaten three-quarters of half the container.
I’m pretty sure this is going to happen to me as I guiltily check out the rest of the Stephanie Plum series. Continue reading
I don’t usually remember my dreams, and rarely do I have any that last long enough to be worth mentioning. There are a couple that have stuck in my memory: a nightmare that I’m not delving into here because the two times I’ve had it disturbed me deeply and I would wake up in full catapult style; and a dream about a horse of unlikely colors that became mine. In the case of the latter I was very young (and furious when I woke up). In the case of the former, I’ve just tried to suppress the memory as much as I can.
But the dream I had last night (well, two nights ago at the time of this posting) was so bizarrely coherent that I thought I’d share what I recall. Continue reading