Lara > Recent Status Updates

Had to place other book plans on hold, b/c Interlibrary Loan FINALLY came though on this one. Reading at full superhero speed!

I know I swore off this series, but I have to find out what happens to Cassie. I reserve the right to nope out as soon as someone's womb clenches with painful desire, though.

I swear to all the gods of Romancelandia, if the plot twist that keeps them apart until the end is that she decides to obey her J. Jonah Jameson-type boss and try and coax Nick's past out for her "big story", I will fling this book across the room. Using someone as a career stepping-stone, even if it's so she won't have to leave her happy little small-town job and life, is a romance-ending deed.

Hero A: I am a large Earl with sciencey proclivities, sensory processing disorder, anxiety, and a skin-hunger that hasn't been sated in years.

Hero B: I am a black-haired con-man who looks like Tom Hiddleston's Loki and who would like nothing more than to get pinned against a wall by a giant growly Earl who will talk science to me and let me organize his study.

Me: EEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeEEEEEEEE!

I have added the unnamed sequel to my to-reads list, because I can already tell that I am going to need more of Nedra and Grey and their world LIKE BURNING.

It's "thwarting fraudulent mediums in Post-WWI Britain", one of my favorite plotlines! With a bonus plot thread of "my husband and I both have PTSD, help us how do we relationship?" *hearteyes*

So now I've added another 20 or so books to the eternal and ever-growing to-read list. SHUT UP I DON'T HAVE A BOOK PROBLEM.

I actually need a break from this. I'll finish it tonight, but I'm taking something relatively fluffy to work with me. Black Iron Mountain is not good lunchtime reading.

I already love this book, and now CARMILLA AND LAURA TOGETHER IN WELL-TAILORED SUITS. MY JOY IS UNBOUNDED.

If Percy Tunstell is not demi-ace, and possibly also somewhere on the spectrum, I will eat a selection of Ivy's hats.

Enjoying every salacious detail, but must pause here, as I probably should not bring a book about torrid historical adultery and unhappy marriages of state to my work at a law office...

I am not all that invested in the dramadramaDRAMA that both Felicity and Devil have with their respective families, but their banter is amazing. I would read an entire book of them talking to each other (and making out).

I have read versions of the story of Odysseus, but never a direct translation of The Odyssey, and so am learning new things! Like that when Athena gets bored of being an owl, she likes to be a lammergeier, and that the first five books of the poem are Telemachus wandering around asking if anyone's seen his dad, he's tired of beating off his mom's unwanted suitors with a stick.

I sympathize with our heroine, because I am also an anxious mess of nerves and catastrophizing, and have more than once decided that an evening in with a book is better than going out in public and *shudders* meeting people. But thus far, Hero is a jerk, and even the hint that he has PTSD does not mitigate that. I don't know how a viable romance is going to build from "We met when I saw you peeing into the roses."

ARC won from Goodreads--thank you!--and finally wrested from the covetous hands of my husband, who got to it first. He really enjoyed it, and so far, so am I.

Hey, did you know Lucius Vorenus and Titus Pullo were real people (Caesar mentioned them in the Commentary on the Gallic Wars)? I did not! And they're in this book! HI GUYS I'VE MISSED YOU.

Heroine: "My dear sir, you can be as antisocial and bitter and inner rageful as you want, but there is a first edition of Newton's Principia on your floor and covered in dust, and up with that I will not put. Why, you may even have dogeared pages, the horror! I shall invade your sanctum of brooding tomorrow for some good old-fashioned alphabetizing!"

...I love her.

This book is really good, but it's having the same effect on me that "King Lear" did--I have to read slowly, listening to the words and the layers of meaning and the feelings underneath. The remnants of my 17-year-old brain are complaining vociferously, because I hated "King Lear", and now I'm having to revise my thinking after 23 years.