Books!

I went off into town (twenty kilometers away) for my once a week shop.

I'm one of those people who simply cannot walk past a bookstore. I have to go in and have a look, even if I know I need climbing gear to get to the top of my tbr pile.

Bookstores have that unique smell. It's the scent of dark mystery mixed with the sweetness of romance, the spiciness of crime, the vague rot of horror, the freshness of sci-fi and fantasy. It's all blended with the eye-opening perfume of biographies, histories, computer books, all manner of non-fiction. It is, undoubtedly, intriguing, compelling and wonderous; altogether irresistable. At least, to me.

Gleefully - and with no small amount of guilt - I exited the store with my wallet a little lighter. Okay. A lot lighter.

In my hot little hands I have Tess Gerritsen's The Mephisto Club, Laurel K. Hamilton's A Stroke of Midnight, and Nora Robert's Angels Fall. MWAHAHA!

Sorry... can't help myself.

Now, I just have to find time to read them... sigh.