That's how I feel whenever I'm in the middle of a book. I always start when I look up from the last page, glance at the clock and see that the afternoon has come and gone. I'm lost in the story's world. Transported to merry ole England with its scandalous (not in our times) dukes and duchesses, marquis and marquesses and whathaveyous. I just know I'm going to visit the UK and soon. I've lost track of the number of times I've visited that lovely country in my imagination.
I am addicted to Victorian and renaissance romances. Very few contemporary chick lit books can compare. There is just something about the royal peers that engrosses me so. Must be my frustrated princess fantasies. If I can't live it, then I can very well imagine it.
That's the reason I slept at 6 am this morning. I managed to finished 3 books from midnight on Friday till early morning Saturday. I slept the morning away and then managed to finish another book in the afternoon before going to church.
I have a shameful secret to confess though. Although I know that its always, ALWAYS a happy ending, sometimes I can't help myself and sneak at peak at the epilogue and satisfied that my hero is happy with his pregnant heroine, then I begin to read from chapter 1. What kind of bookworm am I huh. For shame! Anyway, I don't think I'm going to cure myself of this dreadful habit anytime soon.
One of my wishes amidst my myriad of wishes besides a soulful soprano voice and an extra billion dollars is unlimited success to unlimited free Victorian and Renaissance novels. So if anyone of my non-readers know of an extensive ebook site featuring the books that serve as my drug, feel free to leave a comment. Yours maybe the only comment I would get for 2012 and I'm not kidding.
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