It’s fair to say that over the past couple of years I have somehow lost my reading mojo.
WHAT?? I hear you all shriek.
Yep. I know. And I am mightily ashamed of it, trust me.
Reading has always been a huge part of my life. From Enid Blyton when I was younger, to the pre-teen years of Judy Blume and then moving into the world of horror not long after that with James Herbert and Stephen King, I have always read and could never understand those that didn’t.
And then suddenly, reluctantly, I became one of those people. Life simply took over. I went from reading two books a week to barely two book in six months. My never-ending cycle of work, being a mum, insomnia, exhausted me to the point that something had to give and one of those things was reading. The one thing I always used to calm my soul, the one thing I used to escape reality for a while, the one past-time that I loved above all others and all of a sudden, I felt it slipping through my fingers.
The weird thing is that throughout the whole drought, I kept on buying books. I would spend ages in the book store, running my fingers along the spines, falling for the beautifully designed covers and drinking in the synopsis of each one and feeling the hunger still there, burning inside, so I would buy one or two and carry them home in my bag, feeling guilty that they would probably sit on my bookshelf untouched.
I also had a pile of barely started books on my bedside table and in the end I moved them to the other room, so I wouldn’t have to feel their accusatory glares.
And then I somehow managed to see a light at the end of the tunnel. My friend had bought me a box set of J.R Wards Black Dagger Brotherhood series which also had been confined to the bookcase for sometime until one day I thought what the hell and picked one up. I won’t say it was a quick road to recovery, it took me a while to get into the first book. I started. I stopped. I lingered. I started again and then before I knew it, the book was completed. Okay so I will admit it probably took a month but the feeling of finishing that first book was pure elation! The next book was finished within half that time and before I knew it I was on the last book in the box set.
I was hooked! Totally addicted to the characters. Each book was about a different vampire Brother and I couldn’t wait to learn more about each one and see where their journey would take them.
Father Christmas arrived and kindly bought me a Kindle in return for a mince pie, beer and carrot for Rudolph and I couldn’t wait to start consuming more wonderful words.
First stop: Things to Do in Denver When You’re Undead by Mark Everett, a writer I came across on twitter. I was in paranormal fiction heaven! If you haven’t looked this one up, I would whole-heartedly recommend it. Centering around Kal Hakala, senior agent for the Bureau of Supernatural Investigations, Mark catapults us into a world of ghouls, vampires, zombies and magicians and I was thrown in so deep, I didn’t want it to ever end. Luckily for me, I get to keep Kal with me a little longer, having just downloaded What Happens in Vegas, Dies in Vegas.
Next stop: The Book of Lost Souls by another twitter friend and talented author, Michelle Muto. I’m three chapters in and loving it and can already feel the characters tightening their hold in a magical way.
Hello mojo, oh how I’ve missed you!