I was laying down on my towel, scatters of sand dusted across my left arm. About twenty meters away a family were playing beach cricket, and from the corner of my eye I could make out a rainbow coloured umbrella. The sun beat down fiercely on my back and a cool breeze continued to whip my fringe into my eyes, but I barely registered any of it.
Well, have you ever had one of those books that draws you in so utterly, so completely that you just want to devour the whole thing in just one sitting? That the fictional world you enter is coloured so deliciously that reality is tuned out and suspended temporarily?
I love it when that happens. I love a book that transports me to another time. I've always adored books, and had multitudes of them lining my shelves all through my childhood, and I've carried that into the present. I find it difficult to sleep without reading something before bedtime.
The moment the Little Lion went down for his nap, I'd grab a drink, a snack, my towel and my book and I'd bliss out for the next couple of hours, pausing only to check the tennis score or answer a question posed by Mr Hummingbird (as long as it didn't require an in depth answer. I mean, please. I'm reading here!).
For me, the only way to cure this is to get straight onto another book. I'm sure sure which one yet... although I've read good reviews on the Nikki Gemmell novels, so I might give them a go. Thank you very much Stephen King for 11.22.63, you kept me entertained right until the very end!