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Writing is a past time of mine, but reading well it takes a taste for me to realize just how hungry I have been for a good story. I spent the day cuddled up in a castle of blankets with breaks few and far between for warming up my bean bag.  There is something special about getting lost in someone else's world.  One second your burning your lips off of the hot chocolate you just brewed and the next you're back in a scene running through the woods, urging the characters on.  You know you have read a good book when even after the last page has been turned you continue to think about where they are at now.  As you're doing dishes you're pondering if life ever returned back to normal for the characters? The main character fled at the end, where did they go? Questions after questions, that is when you know it was a good book.

Thank you, Jesus for warm blankets and good reads.


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