To You

Image courtesy doxzoo.com

Dear D,

You would be surprised to hear from me. No, you would be puzzled. You would look down to the unfamiliar name at the end of the letter, frown, search your memory and come up with nothing. Who is this from, you would wonder. But, your memory would fail you.

I first saw you in a crowd, that year of the extraordinarily hot summer, wearing blue, your coiffed hair losing strands in the heat. People around me whispered, pointing you out, for obviously, even then you were a head turner. I wondered why and pulled myself away to enter the rectangular, dark room, with the cobbled floor and took a seat next to the wall lined with little jars holding condiments, herbs, pickles.

The lady holding her pans and measuring spoons would appear at just the right time every day to teach us to put together simple ingredients to rustle up a gourmet meal. I was then struggling to master the craft, in fact trying any craft that would help me earn my livelihood and you, on the other hand, looked the pampered daughter of a rich scion.

I did not really want to talk to you, I was content to feel your presence. I thought of your soft flesh as I carved the juicy, soft mangoes to extract the pulp. The slow and precise slicing of vegetables made me aware of your long nails that flashed exotic colours every day. Your nails were sharper than my knives for they could tear apart hearts. I could see you in the milk vessels as the milk formed a thin layer of fat slowly on the surface accentuating the white colour. I smelt you in the fresh herbs that we tore with our hands, not daring to bring the blades near them.

I sat, listening to the teacher’s polite, cultured voice, imagining instead yours, talking to me, asking about me, my life in the dingy, one room with thin walls that could not mute the next door whisperings and the sound of scrambling mice.

The day, I was asked to come up to the cooking platform, I shook inside for even though I was getting good at the stirring and the cooking, the cold surface of the cooking stove made me think of you. For many minutes, I bent my head and concentrated on cooking the perfect sauce. When it was about to be done, I dared look up to steal a glance in your direction. I expected, feared, prayed for an admiring glance but you were busy talking… That felt like a rejection and I froze for long seconds till the sauce boiled over and the sizzle brought me back to what I was doing. Silently, I mopped up the mess, feeling like a failure.

Did you look at me then? Do you remember me now? Do you know that after that day, I stopped coming to the class? I redoubled my efforts at mastering the culinary skills in my one room house. I went on to have a successful career, yes, it would be successful in your eyes, it got me money and recognition. Sometimes, I felt empty but I considered I was making you proud.

I saw you the other day, no, saw your picture in the glossy that was on the shiny table at the dentist’s waiting room. Your eyes looked sad, the corners of your mouth downturned and you seemed to have spilled some wine down the front of your designer gown. People around seemed to be laughing at you, rather than with you. Does beauty fade so fast?

I had to write to you and tell you that I dream of you still. That I am here waiting to make the perfect meal, to feed your appetite.

Yours,
S

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Follow Me Home: A Book Review

Book title : Follow Me Home 

Author : Jen Benjamin

Genre : Romance, Chick Lit

Synopsis 

When writer Katie Kendall moves to LA to turn her best-selling novel into a film, she is pretty sure it should be the happiest time of her life. But, with an unsupportive husband who suddenly files for divorce, the paparazzi assuming she is having a fling with the leading actor, and her friends left miles away in her old hometown, she begins to think she’s made a big mistake. 

Can her new crowd of friends help her through these times? And could those paparazzi snappers have a point about that leading actor…? 

The author, Jen Benjamin is a newspaper writer and her debut novel, Follow Me Home, is charming. 

The Story 

Katie, the best selling writer moves to California to produce a movie based on her book. Things look good and then they just fall apart. 

Her unsupportive husband files for divorce and Katie is perplexed. Before she can fall into despair, her new found friends in town rally to her support and Katie waltzs effortlessly into the making of the movie. 

She feels an attraction for the male lead, who is a rock sensation and a very unlikely person for her to fall in love with. 

And yet, the love story moves smoothly to its logical conclusion with a few twists thrown in for some hiccups. 

What Is Lovable 

The characters are lovable. The protagonist Katie, is intelligent and sensitive yet socially inept, liable to get nervous, goof up, feel awkward and has the most self deprecating wit that you would like. Jesse, the male lead is wonderful. A singing sensation with millions of swooning fans, he falls in love with the unpretentious Kate. To top it, he is caring, mature, level headed and generous. If that is not adorable, what is? And yes, he has a very loving and caring family as well. 

Julia and Ashley are the perfect girlfriends for Katie, lending an ear, encouraging Katie, supporting Katie and asking her to get to the root of her feelings for Jesse. 

There’s Ivan, the rich lawyer, who is, yes, another understanding character. So, the love interest does not lead to a love triangle. 

Nor does Jesse have an ex – girlfriend so there are no real obstacles to the love between the lead pair. 

Using the pithy journal entries by Katie in the book is something I liked very much. It summarized and tantalised as to what was coming next. It also made the first person narrative interesting and funny. 

The book is set in California, with all the trappings of Hollywood and yet, what I loved best was the music they make for the movie. There is more emotional investment and even passion in the creation of a song than in the making of the movie based on Katie’s best seller. 

What It’s Not

The characters are lovable but all of them are too good and picture perfect. There are just a couple of characters that are supposed to be negative and their character flaws are sort of glossed over. There is no meanness here and it adds to the feel good factor that reading this book generates. 

in the book, plenty of things happen in the span of a few months. But it is a bird’s eye view of the events. We get the highlights ; the important bits that move the story forward. This adds to the breezy feeling that the reader gets. 

There is no over analysis of emotions. There is a lot going on. There is love, first and foremost and friendship, at its cutest level. There is bonding and concern and detachment and indifference and difficult situations but at no point does the book delve deep into the motivations or the angst of the past experiences or the losses. That is why it feels light and not like an emotional drama. 

Verdict 

All in all, a lovable, feel good, light read that can be categorized into romance and chic lit. 

There is no smut, no overt sexual encounters and no objectionable language. 

I liked reading this debut novel so much that I am looking forward to the writer’s next book. 

I rate this book 4 stars. 🌠🌠🌠🌠 

I received a copy of the book for an honest review. 

Friday Listicles: Top 5 Literary Fixes

Being a voracious reader, I like to read book after book, with scarce a pause in between. I can be reading up to three different books at a time. When I am full of one, or overwhelmed with the thought thread in another, I only have to turn to yet another. Good books nourish the soul.  But there are times when I need some mindless reading, or something that is not too much effort but is good reading. I call such reads my literary fixes as they fill the gap in my reading and they are light and pleasant.

The Top 5 Literary Fixes

Re reading Classics
Classics are considered ‘heavy stuff’, with archaic language and difficult to follow plot line. Yet, there is nothing more comforting for me to turn to the familiar characters I have grown up with (I started reading classics at a very young age and had read many of them by the time I finished school) and relive their lives, struggles and emotions. I go down the familiar lanes, see the landscapes once again and wander the mansions. It is something I cannot do in real life, for people and places change every time I blink.

Western Novels
The wild, wild west attracts me like nothing else and because the uncertain, danger ridden, pistol toting, knife wielding characters always live on the edge, it is a perfect antidote to my staid lifestyle. Any time, I pick up a Louis L’Amour book and follow the protagonist across the deserts or on mountain trails, I come back rejuvenated.

Travel Literature
The Lonely Planet magazines are my best friend. They are always perched on my shelf just within reach. I pore over the articles and the magnificent photographs and sigh and dream. Well, some day….

Romance
The girl is lovely, simple, sincere and the guy is rich, arrogant and seemingly too good for her. Yet, ‘feelings’ develop and they inch towards a commitment. The key words are ‘simple’, ‘feelings’ and ‘inch’. These are the features of the romance novels I like. Yes, Barbara Cartland, Georgette Heyer…. They are old world and so am I. But, sometimes, books like Twilight seem too interesting and… delicious!

Good Housekeeping
This is the last but definitely not the least. Any time, I am fed up of the chores, the endless running about, the loooong list of things to be accomplished, I plonk down in a comfortable chair and check out the online version of Good Housekeeping magazine. The pristine houses and beauty of living spaces makes me forget my own shabby surroundings, badly in need of dusting. In my mind, I an repainting the kitchen cabinets a gorgeous red and getting the perfect floral centerpiece.

I would love to hear from you, my readers, about your literary fixes.

Love

I don’t understand love
It is highly regarded
Yet has been vilified
Love really frees the soul
But why are lovers persecuted?

Love should transcend all
Age, background, intellect and gender?
Love is peace and pleasure
But lovers are in shackles
Would I ever understand love?

I have been nominated by Umber to share my interpretation of Love ( in 10 lines of 4 words each). Okay, I bent the rules a little bit on that. I have been asked to share my favourite quote on love. Again, instead of a quote I am sharing my favourite painting that seems to sum up the word for me. I am also asked to invite 10 other bloggers to share Love in 10 lines of 4 words each. Also share your favourite quote on love.

Sohni Mahiwal- Painting by Sobha Singh

This painting (painted in the 1940s) by the renowned painter Sobha Singh (1901-1986) depicts the lovers Sohni and Mahiwal by the riverside. The iconic painting immortalised the most popular tragic romance in Punjab’s folklore.

As for nominating to carry on this love chain, here is an open invitation to my readers to share their views on love. Draw, write, paint, sing, share.

The Wedding Bells- Part 13

Once again, a group of writers from different geographical regions gather together to create a wonderful story. The photograph above serves as the inspirational theme for the 6th Flash Fiction Chain hosted by Jithin of Photrablogger. Give his beautiful site a visit and feast your eyes on the inspirational photos or read about his adventures.

A comprehensive list of characters in the story: (Main)

Anna Brighton- 32 year old CEO who owns and runs a publishing company

Alex Burns – well established author, Anna’s ex, Toby Blackwell’s cousin

Melissa Doyle –the bride, Anna’s dear friend

Toby Blackwell – co-owns the Blackwell estate, Alex’s cousin

(Supporting characters)

Jenny- Anna’s secretary

Adam – Owner of Adam and Eve’s

Harrison – Melissa’s fiance.

Percy Tuppence – Owner of the ring shop

Part 1 : Written by Sona

Part 2 : Written by Yinglan

Part 3 : Written by Priceless Joy

Part 4 : Written by Frenesthetist

Part 5 : Written by Dr. KO

Part 6 : Written by Sweety

Part 7 : Written by Tobias

Part 8 : Written by Ruth

Part 9 : Written by Austin

Part 10: Written by Rashmi

Part 11: Written by Phaena

Part 12: Written by Manvi

Do read these parts before mine to get a clear picture of the story!

The Wedding Bells-Part 13

Anna waved furiously to the newly wedded couple in the gleaming red limousine, about to leave. She held one hand up to her temple, pressing it with her perfumed handkerchief. Perfumes always made her ill; it was no doubt she had a headache. Why on earth had she worn a perfume instead of her usual deo she could not fathom herself. She looked down at her now crumpled dress held together at the back rather cleverly by pins that Alex helped her with.

“God! What a mess”, she thought. “One dress, two wardrobe malfunctions in a single wedding ceremony! Wonder what my luck would be at my own wedding”, she half muttered as the smiling flower girl, Sara skipped towards her. “Hey, Anna! You have crumpled the bouquet too much! It is good luck! You are the next to get married!”, chirped little Sara.

Anna squinted against the afternoon sun to see who had overheard them. She was in a group of people all excitedly chattering about the just married Melissa and Harrison, now off to their honeymoon destination. Anna felt a strange emptiness. The anticipation of the wedding was now over, and so was the adrenaline pumping through her body all morning because of her journey to fetch the bride’s ring and her subsequent encounter with Ms. Beaumount which turned ummm.. rather violent. Anna was amazed at herself. She, the sensible businesswoman, away from all matters of the heart and frivolous behaviour was at that very day been acting like a… giddy teenager!

She coloured a bright crimson at the thought of her stolen kisses with Toby and the memory of their physical closeness and the possibilities made her go weak in her knees all over again. At the same time, guilt stabbed at her, for she could not get Alex’s speculative look out of her mind. His tenderness as he helped her with her dress zipper the second time it came apart was too sweet to be dismissed. No sparks flew; his fingers did not linger on her body; his breath was not hot and urgent but his face screwed up in concentration with pins in his mouth reminded her sweetly of their high school dating years. She could hear their shared laughter and innocent jokes as they walked hand in hand beside the lake near her parent’s house.

Anna came out of her reverie with a start. There was raucous laughter behind her as the group of Alex’s friends and cousins came closer. She heard Toby before she saw him. He was obviously drunk with a wild look in his eyes. They were making jokes about the married couple and Toby’s smirk left her shaken.

” Miss Brighton, there is a call for you on the telephone in the house”, managed the breathless housemaid. Anna stared at the flowers in the maid’s hair as she followed her back into the rambling Blackwell Estate. It was difficult for Anna to locate the library where the telephone was situated on her own. The entire staff was dressed in their finery on account of the wedding reception, the remnants of which were being cleared from the mansion’s grounds.

“Dad!”, Anna shouted into the telephone receiver. “It has been the best wedding ever and Melissa looked such a stunning beauty!”

“Yes, Dad, they received your congratulatory telegram and I miss you and Mom so much.”

“Yes, I can visit you now that I am here, nearer home but I need to get back to office to work out things. My business is suffering.”

“Umm, OK, I suppose so, if this means just another day… but I can make it some other time. There are deals that need to be signed”, intoned Anna weakly as it brought to her mind the contract that had been signed with the eminent author Alex.

“Uh, Dad, just book my flight for the next day from home. I sure must come and see you both”, said Anna twisting the telephone wire around her fingers.

” Damn”, said Anna angrily as she ended the call and tried to reason her own elation at seeing Alex again at work. She badly needed her parent’s comfortable and sensible presence to pull her out of this vortex of emotions.

Anna raced up the stairs to her own room to get her cell phone. She had to inform Jenny, her personal secretary of her absence of another day and to find out if there were any other pressing issues at work.

As she pushed open the door to her room, Anna staggered back in shock. There was Toby, unmistakably charming with ruffled hair, kissing the housemaid. She stared at the now crumpled flowers in her hair, her head spinning.

“Ah, Anna! I was looking for you”, smiled Toby, slurring his words. Anna felt her cheeks flush from the anger in her.
“You are drunk. You are kissing the maid in my room”, said Anna coldly.

” Just looking for you, darling!”.
“And as you said, I am a little drunk, so the confusion”, winked Toby at the housemaid, patting her bottom. The maid rushed past Anna to go out of the room.

“Out”, said Anna to Toby gesturing at the still open door, her voice cracking a little. She was losing her composure again, she realised.

Toby lurched towards Anna and held her waist in a vice like grip, almost leering. That was when she heard someone walk in. She turned with a desperate look in her eyes and saw Alex.

To be continued by Yinglan

The Wedding Bells-Flash Fiction Chain # 6

The beautiful photograph above serves as a photo prompt for Flash Fiction Chain #6 hosted by Jithin of Photrablogger. In this chain, many authors from around the world and from different time zones participate, writing consecutive parts in a beautifully orchestrated story telling.

The present chain chronicles a love tale.

I am writing the first part of the story.

The Wedding Bells

Characters in the story

Anna-a 32 year old publisher

Alex- a well established author

Jenny- Anna’s personal secretary

Anna walked briskly among the cubicles nodding her greetings to her coworkers. She could hear her desk phone ringing even as she swung open the door to her office and flicked the light on.

“Anna Brighton”, she said in a clipped accent.

She listened on, frowning and then relaxing a bit. “Fine, in that case I will get in touch with Alex and sign him on”. Next, Anna dialed a number from memory and tapped anxiously on the table, waiting for her call to be answered. The phone went unanswered and she slammed down the phone receiver.

“Bastard”, she muttered.

There was a tap on her door and her personal secretary, Jenny walked in. “Here is today’s mail and this bunch needs immediate attention.” Jenny placed two piles of mail on Anna’s table. She also slid that day’s newspapers across the huge mahogany desk.

Anna liked to peruse many newspapers and magazines to keep herself updated. As the founder-CEO of the publishing house, she had to be sharp and in tune with the market trends. This business was her baby and her passion. She had nurtured it and fought a competitive battle to bring it to this enviable position.

The day wore on; and it was a typical day for Anna. Strategy meetings, operational decisions and the day to day running of the company. Anna lunched alone, at her desk, one hand holding a sandwich and the other some business papers.

” Come in”, she intoned as there was a knock on the door but no one entered. Then the door opened noiselessly, and in strode a tall man with chiseled features.

“Alex”, she gasped, almost springing out of her chair. “Anna”, drawled the man. They stared at each other for a few moments before Anna broke the silence. “I called you this morning”.

“And that is the reason I am here”.

” Ah, I thought you did not want to talk”, said Anna with a suddenly dry throat.

“I could not take your call but I understood it had to do something with the contract I am going to sign with your company. So, I dropped in.”

“Yes, please take a seat”, said Anna recovering her composure. She asked Jenny to come in with the contract that had been made ready. Anna’s heart beat fast. Alex was one of the most sought after authors and his association with her publishing house would catapult her into the big names of the business. But that was not the only reason Anna was excited.

Anna’s association with Alex went back to her school days. They were together at school and even lived in the same neighbourhood. They had a common friend circle. Although they played together as children and went to the same church with their parents, they were not particularly close. But that changed when Anna entered her teens. Suddenly aware of her popularity amongst the opposite sex, she became attentive towards her more ardent admirers. And Alex was one of them.

The attraction was mutual and they were a couple when she graduated from school. Life soon took them their separate ways as they pursued further education. They had gotten over each other, she thought and maybe he felt the same, Anna rued but the attraction wasn’t completely dulled whenever she went visiting her parents and met him in their hometown. And now their paths had crossed once again with the future indicating more interaction and collaboration.

Alex finished signing the papers and walked out after shaking hands with Anna. That little touch alone made her nerves tingle. The unexpected encounter had left her emotionally unsure and on edge when the musical tones of her cell phone sounded.

“Dad”, Anna nearly shouted into the phone. “How are you?”, she asked joyfully. After a long and animated conversation with her father, Anna called in Jenny and announced, “I would be out for 3 days.”

“Three?”, Jenny was surprised.

” Yes, best friend’s wedding”, said Anna twirling her short black hair that framed her youthful face. “I am going to be away from my work after a long time”.

“No, this is the first time you are going to be away”, said Jenny firmly with a smile in her voice.

“Anyway, I am rather looking forward to it. Melissa is such a dear and she deserves all the happiness of this world. She is marrying her childhood sweetheart. The wedding is to be held in their private estate and I am sure to run into more of my friends”, said Anna dreamily.

“Ah, just a hitch! My mother goes crazy at the sound of wedding bells. She starts talking of when I am going to get married-as if I have the time!”, said Anna rolling her eyes.

“Well, have a great time”, said Jenny as Anna turned to go out of her office. “You might meet someone interesting”.

“Let’s see”, laughed Anna which was a rare sound.

Would Anna meet someone special? Would love blossom for her here at the office?
Read on. The next part is by Yinglan.

Musings on My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk

Painting is the silence of thought and the music of sight.

In reading this book, I was struck by the cornucopia of images, colours, illustrations.

Orhan Pamuk, the recipient of the 2006 Nobel Prize in Literature has written this amazing historical novel and set in the time of the Ottoman Empire in the 16th century. It was written in 1998 in Turkish and translated to English in 2001.

The book has miniature painters as the main characters and it talks in detail about the techniques used in painting, the philosophy behind the paintings and the psyche and the lifestyle of the painters themselves. There are innumerable subjects and illustrations that are discussed in vivid detail.

One of the most exciting feature of the book is that each chapter has a different narrator. To change skins and perspectives often, the reader is kept on his toes. The narrators range from the main characters to corpses, horses, Satan and even inanimate objects like coins and trees.

The book starts with the murder of one of the miniaturists. The unraveling of the mystery behind the murder takes up an important part of the book. Interwoven with the intrigue is a delightful romance. It veers towards passion with a thread of practicality running through it. The female characters are fleshed out most wonderfully-all too human. There is love, there is an awareness of worldly responsibilities and finally Shekure, the main female protagonist realises that her love for her children is different and more fulfilling than her love for her husband Black, who has waited to wed her for twelve long years.

The Jewish clothier, Esther is a wonder to understand. Compassionate yet shrewd, she brings colour to the drab, snowy winter days.

Through miniature paintings, Orhan Pamuk brings forth the east west conflict in the nature of panting styles.

As Pamuk’s official website states,the book is about “death, art, love, marriage and happiness as well as a requiem for the forgotten beauties of pictorial art”.

An absolute delight, not to be rushed through, with each image and brush stroke savoured!

The Shadows on the Wall- Part 5

The following work of Flash Fiction is in collaboration with my fellow blogger friend, Jithin of Photrablogger. The picture above is his creative photography which inspired this series of flash fiction writing. Do check out his blog to read about his adventures while travelling and many lovely pictures.

Character List:

Margaret or Maggy- a 19 year old girl, out to search some truths

Steve- the caretaker of the mansion, a man in his fifties

Robert- the house cook

Grandpa- Maggy’s grandfather

Part 1 by Sweety

Part 2 by Traveling Hat

Part 3 by Saya

Part 4 by Moses

You are now reading Part 5 of the story. Please read the parts that came before so that you can enjoy the story and understand the flow.

Maggy sat up in her bed abruptly, shaken from the vivid dream she just had and saw Robert, sitting in a chair opposite, looking at her speculatively. Dawn was breaking outside. She saw the trees of the woods take form in the growing light. The cold light of the day did nothing to dispel her fears or to allay her apprehensions. She pressed her fingers to her temples. She felt overwhelmed by the turn of events.

She had arrived in her Grandpa’s mansion the previous night in the hope of uncovering his mysterious disappearance a year back. But, the bloodcurdling scream in the middle of the night and the encounter with a shadowy form had left her nerves frayed.

Maggy swung her legs out of the bed but moaned as she tried to stand. Robert jumped up to help her. Maggy felt a vague discomfort as he steered her with his hand at her elbow. The touch of his soft shirt sleeve evoked memories of a childhood when she and Rob played in the kitchen, in the house and in the woods near the enormous mansion. The look in his eyes as he appraised her were cool but she could not forget the warmth of his gaze just the night before.

Maggy freshened up in the bathroom hurriedly and changed her clothes. “I would like to go for a walk”, she announced weakly. Robert excused himself, saying he needed to be in the kitchen to plan the day’s meals. With trepidation, Maggy walked out of the side door of the living room to the large and now unkept garden. The fringes of the once magnificent garden were slowly being encroached by the surrounding woods. Her grandfather had regaled her with fascinating stories of the woods when she was little. With a start, she remembered her dream, where she was in the dungeon of the mansion. “Is there really a dungeon here? “, she wondered aloud. Her sound sounded hollow even to herself.

Maggy walked on. In her misery, she hardly looked at the tiny wild flowers growing in the bushes. The birds chirped, but her ears echoed with the sound of her Grandpa’s voice, calling for help. She felt as if she were walking in a dream. As the bushes grew denser and the trees blocked out light, Maggy realised she had walked farther than she had realized. She turned to go back. Trying to distangle her clothes from the thorns of a plant, she noticed strange marking on one of the tree trunks.

Surprised, she came to herself with an alertness she had not felt before. She reminded herself of the reason of her visit to the mansion. She had to find out what had happened to her beloved Grandpa. Brushing the leaves off her clothes, she looked around keenly. There was another tree trunk with a similar mark on it. And another… if it was a trail, it seemed to be leading deeper into the woods. She would lose her way, Maggy realised. “I must come back with someone, maybe Rob”.

Her heart quickened at the thought of Rob. With brisk steps, she walked back to the edge of the garden. Some of the beautiful wild flowers were trampled! Was she careless while entering the woods? Or had someone else been here, after her? Following her?

Maggy quickly entered the house through the small kitchen door. Robert was drying the dishes with a towel. Last night’s mess had all been cleared away. The door of the cabinet they had hidden in last night was ajar. Following Maggy’s gaze. Robert walked over to close the door. All of a sudden, Maggy heard a deep, rumbling sound coming from the cabinet? Or was it from beneath the wooden floor of the kitchen? No, she was not mistaken because the vibrations traveled through her body.

Shocked, Maggy looked at Rob but his expression was masked. “Rob”, she blurted out, “Is there a dungeon underneath the mansion”?

“Dungeon? No!”, he said almost harshly. Maggy felt lightheaded. As she swayed on her feet Rob shot out a hand to help her and she saw the crushed petals of the wild flowers on his shirt sleeve…

Can Maggy trust Robert? Where does the trail in the woods lead to? Is there really a dungeon under the house?

To be continued by Manvi

Grateful and Guilty

Dear Twilight,

You might be a little surprised at hearing from me. Even worst, you might find my letter as part of a pile and not even glance at it with interest, for you it may be just another adulatory missive.

But, at the risk of sounding similar to many, many others, let me confess that I found you addictive. Just picking up the book was considered foolish in my circle, you see, I am surrounded by the so called ‘sensible’ age group. Even though we are still on the right side of forty, all of us have graduated to reading serious fiction and informative nonfiction. My book club regularly discusses Booker prize winning authors or Nobel Laureates. Or the newest regional pick. We don’t read teenage romance/fantasy/vampire tales.

Frankly, I am not much taken by vampires or monsters as such and have not even shown any interest in the Twilight series movies. I did not understand what all the fascination with vampires was about. I thought it all pretty outdated. So, I just picked this book from the local library the day I could not settle on anything. Anyhow, all that is past now.

The first few pages and I was hooked. Reading you was like a breath of fresh air. It smelt of youth-innocent and pure. It talked of possibilities, of people flying over at the last moment to save you from a car crash. There are gorgeous looking students in school; some of them vampires. There is passion, without the cheap undertones of the physical kind. Oh yes, girls do go weak in knees and handsome hunks are around to rescue them at every step. It was the thrill of a dated Mills and Boons romance wedded to the myth of Vampires. Even when they are vampires, they are inherently good, which is what makes them so endearing. I loved the witty repartees, the well threshed out locales ( forests, clearing in the meadows…).

I think, all through my heart missed as many beats as Bella’s did. Edward, the vampire is absolutely endearing. I simply cannot wait to read more and more… I am aware there are sequels to you but I shall be forever grateful to you and your author Stephanie Meyer for introducing me to this wonderful world of yours.

Besotted,
Writenlive

This letter was written in response to the Daily Prompt.