It's been twenty-four hours of nothing but fun. (Insert heavy sarcasm here). Almost no sleep - four hours is not near enough for a beauty like me. There are things that need done and of course they must be done in a prescribed timeframe which is now not later. The computer problem is fixed. Replaced Chrome with IE for now and everything is is fine. I no longer have to sign in each time I change pages (definitely maddening when reading blogs). Tomorrow is football! Grandson is sidelined with a sprain but all of us will be cheering up to victory over Clarion. We will cheer loudly and hard after the one (1) point loss last week to that other team. Saturday Shorts is coming up and then I hope to be on track with, what for me, is normal posting. I'm headed out for business now and then sleep. Have a happy and blessed weedend.
I decided to give the book a try, even if the writing and story thus far had me concerned. However, the book slapped my face with the worst plot device ev-ah! You know the one... Love at first sight! Blah. I stopped believing in that sometime in the womb. I am sure that some ladies (and maybe men... I am sure there are guys out there who read romances... right?) out in the world who thoroughly enjoy the idea of LaFS. I just find it a cheap way of hooking characters up without actually having them become closer in a more natural way. I believe in lust at first sight. But most often the key word is "love." Sure. So the main character dude is convinced that he and this stranger girl are "mates." I cringed at the word. And it isn't what you think. Nope. I don't like the word because it is somehow deemed by the author to be romantic. A sort of destiny thing. Now if this were a drag you back to the cave, no feelings involved, story I would accept the word. But since this is supposed to be a sweet, happy romance I despise the use of the word. I skimmed this book. Just as a warning. You may ask if I am a totally fair judge of the book. And I answer Yes!
I am sure I could have enjoyed a passage or two in the book that I did not read (but I doubt it). You could not force me to read this one though. After I read the last pages in the book (yes I skipped to the end) I heartily threw the book on the floor. Now this book had something else I really don't like. Besides a consistently stubborn and dense heroine. I know she is dense and stubborn because I read the last pages. See I wasn't made to suffer. I think I chose correctly. Anyway... this book has characters that speak in dialect! Oh sweet joy! Dialect. Scottish dialect to be exact. Save me now. It's all "ken" and "verra" and "dinnae" (not sure on the last one, but you get the point). I was gonna kill someone. The word "bonnie" was used too! Argh! No! I have an aversion to the word. Especially when "lass" is attached. It was like I stepped into Satan's living room! Hellish! I don't think I'd mind dialect if it was similar to a Robert Burns poem. But I just get the American trying to speak like a Scot vibe. Which always causes me to run away with my ears plugged (if I were watching a movie). I ran away. Rating: Did not finish. Would not recommend this book, unless you like the author and/or if you are fond of Scots dialect.
Title: Highland Fire. Author: Hannah Howell. Genre: Historical Romance. Paperback: 384 pages. Publisher: Zebra; Reprint Edition (June 1, 2008). Description: Swept overboard and stranded on the rocky shores of Scotland, Moira Robertson is left with only the tattered clothes on her back-and the mysterious stranger who came to her aid on the ship. Although their close surroundings unsettle her, she soon cannot resist his touch which awakens a burning ache deep within her. But can she trust her life-and her heart-to this darkly seductive man? Tavig MacAlpin is a condemned man. Accused of a murder he did not commit, his escape is thwarted by a flame-haired beauty. He must continue his search for justice, but fate has bound him to this Scottish lass-and to a slow, sensual desire that will not be denied.
Review: Sometimes I just want to read a bad book. My brain gravitates to my stack of TBR books, ones that I suspect may be a vacation for my brain. I am not looking for a terrible book. Just one that is "bad" enough to give me a break from actually using any brain power. I have this theory, which is probably completely correct (or not), that our brains are incredibly insightful. That meat rattling in our skulls pick up on the tiniest cues. And I think my brain was leading me to the number one "bad" book in my stacks. Sadly this book exceeded my expectations. Meh. It was a tough decision whether I thought the first paragraph was bizarre in a good way or a bad way. A man in obvious disguise. A puffy, soft belly. Like all the fake Santas wear. Skinny, but oh so strong, legs and arms. It could have been entertaining if it wasn't a train wreck.
I’m listening to this song on one of my pandora stations, and remembering where i heard it first, while working at a bookstore that had been built inside the castle-like shell of an old theosophical society temple. In some ways, that job was pretty cool, as retail jobs go. So after a bit of googling I find one of the former employees has created a myspace page as internet flypaper trying to get all those people together. I don’t know. I met some people i liked there. Other people I met there, I had some conflict with. Largely, I think, because they disapproved of my not drinking. Frustrated writers can be that way. There’s a weird camaraderie that arises amongst people working together at a crappy retail job. Especially the type that affords a veneer of elite knowledge even if it does not afford elite pay. I occasionally keep in touch with my fellow former box office people (”yes, I used to work for a nonprofit arts organization”).