There are several authors I pre-order from amazon without a second thought: Randy Wayne White, Janet Evanovich, Patricia McKillip, Robin McKinley, and Rita Mae Brown. A few days ago Brown's latest book, Hounded to Death, arrived. This is the latest installment in her Sister Jane series and although I've found the last two to be rather preachy, I still enjoy the horse and hound parts of the stories and thankfully those parts are ninety-five percent. In that other five percent Sister Jane gets on her soapbox about country versus city folks (the former are superior in her view, and yes, I prefer the country to the city, but I don't think all city folks are dimwits completely out-of-touch with the facts of jungle life) and to top it off, there is no one more perfect in this world than Sister Jane. I swear butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, but until I can write as successfully as Rita Mae Brown does, I have a precarious perch on my own soapbox here.
So, anyway, more fluff. One day I'll finish Sailing to Byzantium. I have great intentions but I fear that until there's a bit less uncertainty in my life that my reading will be firmly in the fluff category. Ah, escapism...and this blog is an excuse, an escape, from folding laundry. Laundry lint is fluff, too, just not the kind I want to wallow in right now.
Ciao!
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