Dammit, Sherry Thomas!

I'm exhausted an it's all your fault.

I ran out last night and picked Private Arrangements up. It started in the drive through line for my dinner. "I'm just going to read a page," I thought.

A page turned into a chapter, which turned into "Just a few minutes more," and then the next thing I knew I was finishing the book at 1am and sleeping with it on the bed next to me.

There's no Ehvil Villan, there's no spies, there's no killer after them. There's just Cam and Gigi and how they and their love grow up. It's lovely and sexy and I even cried a bit (which is saying a whole lot for me.) Both are flawed, human creatures who desperately want to be happy.

I loved the time period as well. The entire world was changing in the late 1800s and that knowledge blends seamlessly into this book. Cam and Gigi were entirely beings of and in their time, not modern characters who're just plunked down in a different time so they can wear pretty clothes.

At this point, I'm just sighing and smiling wistfully about it, so it's hard to come up with a comprehensive review. Just go read it. Now.

Awwwww, crap

I forgot about Sven.

Seriously. Just forgot about Sven and how he wants to make me sweat. (Er, not in a fun way.) I signed up for the 70 Days of Sweat challenge. . . and didn't remember until I visited Megan Hart's blog today. Which means (assuming I write today) I am eight days behind, since I wrote one day last week.

'Scuse me. Gotta go get busy.

(Um, I just went to the 70 Days blog and it turns out that while I commented, I didn't fill out the Mr. Linky. Part of me's tempted to use that as an out. The rest of me says get busy. And fill out the Mr. Linky.)