I’m still basking in that lovely, post-book afterglow. I just finished Smooth Talking Stranger by Lisa Kleypas. Oh…it was good. It was so, so good. It’s the third book in a series and, yes, they were all that good.
I love books like that. I start the first couple of lines and…I’m done. Caught. No talking, no watching TV, no computer. Nothing. I’m useless until I finish the last word.
This one had me at the first line.
The characters were so believable and the dialogue exactly what I was thinking. When she was angry, I was furious, when he was hurt, I was in tears. It all threatened to end up horribly, but somehow managed to transform into a magical happy ending.
Yeap. I cried. And I laughed and I sighed when it was done. I was delighted for the heroine and more than half in love with the hero.
Isn’t it wonderful when books are incredible like that? I can’t explain exactly what the magic formula is. Something about the characters or the plot or the writing style. It’s subtle but magical and the result is irresistible. It promises a wonderful ride, then delivers it.
Oh, the book was so good. I want to re-read it right now. Actually, to be honest, I wanted to re-read the entire series the moment I finished but my lovely husband gave me a look that said I had ignored him (and the entire world) long enough for one day.
So I started reading the next morning.