Cripes I'm Bored

So you've probably noticed I haven't been talking about reading much lately. Besides the fact that moving just about sucked me dry, I'm in the middle of a horrible slump. Here's why:

Entangled by Kathleen Dante

What's in a woman's heart...

Brilliant executive Kiera Stevens finds herself in a vulnerable position when she suspects insider espionage. Someone she trusts is stealing company secrets and threatening her professional future. What she needs is an undercover man...

What's on a man's mind...
Security expert John Atlantis never expected his client to be such a hot distraction. That's what makes his covert plan to pose as her lover so irresistible. What unfolds between them is no ruse-and what it sparks is beyond their control.

Now, while their defenses are down, a devious high-tech spy is moving closer, and watching Kiera's every move. What he sees, he likes. And what he likes, he takes.

Let's get this out of the way first - does this sound remotely like a paranormal? Nope - but sure enough, that's what it is. If I was this author I would be so pissed at Berkley's PR department, but that's just me. And as a reader, well if I had bought this book in the store I would be unhappy. Why? Because I'm personally a little tired of the whole mixing paranormal with erotica trend - so I tend to avoid these books. I know this isn't terribly fair to a lot of good authors, but hey - when a girl is burnt out, she's burnt out OK?

But let's chuck all that aside. Really, the PR thing isn't the author's fault. Unfortunately the boring story is. What we have here is a wallpaper paranormal. Now, I know I'm not the brightest crayon in the box - but the first several chapters had me really confused. Apparantly the hero can preform magic and the heroine is some sort of healer. That's about it for world building so far and I'm on page 100. Not a good sign. I really have no clue how this universe operates. The only way I can describe it is that instead of reading like book 1 in a series (which it is) it reads like book 4 or 5. That is, I feel like the author is assuming I know what the hell is going on. Also, instead of giving me some world building and in depth character development, I've gotten sex - a lot of sex - some of it bordering on the purple side.

So far this has been a classic case of "all sex and no plot." Couple that with the fact that the book packaging smells and looks like a contemporary suspense novel - well it's a recipe for disaster. The worst part is I have to keep reading it. Yep, it's for review - and I'm grossly behind on all my review books thanks to the move. I just need to sit my ass in a chair and get to work. The sooner I get this one done, the sooner I can move on to the mountain of other review books waiting for me.....

High Ons, Monkeys And Brain Melt

This is how my weekend went:

Thursday - Leave work early, check out new apartment, sign lease, fork over a cashier's check.

Friday - Take day off work, start hauling boxes to new apartment. Think about dying around lunch time. Boyfriend gets home from work, finish packing, half pay attention to Game 5 of World Series (all around depressing), take 2 more car-loads of crap to new apartment.

Saturday - Movers show up promptly at 8AM (they said they'd be there "between 8-9AM"). The guy in charge did a little "wake n' bake" because let me tell you, I got a buzz standing next to him. But generally speaking, I've had good experience with pot-heads since moving to California. The only competent DirecTV installer I ever got (after seeing about 6 of them) was a major high-on. Takes 'em 6 hours to move us, and they did a great job. My advice - if you have to move, talk to coworkers, friends, relatives, whomever and get recommendations. I found this company through a coworker and they were awesome!

Sunday - Run various errands, take Boyfriend to Old Apartment so he can watch football, clean up Old Apartment so our landlord isn't attacked by Killer Dust Bunnies.

What's left? Well we have phone service as of this morning. I called the New Apartment and got my answering machine. Also, the gas company is supposed to show up today. That's right - we don't have hot water yet! I've kept up with the personal hygiene (for which The Boyfriend and coworkers are most thankful), but it's been a decidedly shocking experience.

Wednesday will bring loads of fun. Our DSL will be turned on (that's OK, my home computer is still sitting in a box), DirecTV is showing up (and if they say the wrong thing to me, I told The Boyfriend he might have to dispose of a body when he gets home) and the phone company is coming out to install another phone jack.

That's right - we failed to notice it until after we moved in, but there is no phone jack in the living room! The main damn room of the apartment. Does this make sense to anyone? Anyone who isn't high?

Also, I have further proof that DirecTV is run by a group of poorly trained monkeys. I talked to The Lil' Sister yesterday. She's all set to get TiVo, so contacted DirecTV about getting a DVR through them. Sure, they'll send her one for $100. That's when Lil' Sis points out that they're offering the DVR to new customers for free, and she has been a good customer for 3 years. So for being such a good customer for 3 years, she's being charged $100 for a service that customers with no standing with the company are getting for nothing. Uh, OK. Again, does this make sense to anyone who isn't high? Swear to God, if NFL Sunday Ticket wasn't holding The Boyfriend hostage I would gleefully never deal with these idiots ever again. But that's just me.

And in reading news, I haven't been doing any. My brain is still sitting in a box in my computer room/home office.

Skip To My Lou

Well color me shocked as Hell. The Boyfriend just talked to The New Apartment people. They replaced the thermostat and fixed the front doorknob lock. You could knock me over with a feather. I thought for sure they were going to tell us, "Tough shit, we'll just rent it to someone else who's not such a pain in the ass."

Of course, we still have to check it out - which is what we're doing tomorrow. If all goes well, moving day is still set for Saturday. Which means this girl has to take Friday off to finish packing and call everybody I need to call.

I'm Bringing Sexy Back

Since I'm sure everyone is sick of hearing me whine about moving, I'm granting a reprieve and starting to get back into romance novel rambling. Well sort of...

Whilst reading my latest batch of craptacular offerings from TRR's editor (Two "D" reads in a row, and the latest isn't shaping up to be that great either), my mind got to wandering as it often does.

What makes a man attractive?

Now, I'm not talking sexy. Although for my money, nothing is sexier than a man who is confident. A guy who's comfortable in his own skin. In other words, a guy who doesn't try hard to be someone he's not. He knows who he is. That's sexy.

No, I'm talking about what makes you notice a guy? What feature jumps out at you and makes you take a closer look. Is it the eyes? The butt? A well-toned phyisque?

Oh sure, those are all good - but for my money it's his nose.

Swear to God, I'm not sure where I picked this up - but I got a thing for guys with prominent noses. Always have. It does have to have a nice shape to it. I'm sorry ladies, but Owen Wilson does not do it for me. The nose can't be deformed. It's got to have a nice symmetrical look to it, and naturally fall on the "big" side of the sliding nose scale.

I know, I'm weird as hell.

Let's look at some examples:

Nomar (or as the older sis calls him "Nose-Mar") Garciaparra (that's him on the left - pitcher Eric Gagne on the right). I'm willing to overlook the fact that he's married to that skank Mia Hamm. I just adore this guy. I mean, I could give a hoot about him as a baseball player - but that nose! Oh that big, beautiful nose!

Adrien Brody - I know what you're thinking, "He's goofy looking." But he's Wendy-Bait all the way. Tall - check. Skinny - check. Big nose - check, check, check. A pretty good actor too. I was indifferent on King Kong - but he's really great in the all-around underappreciated Spike Lee Joint, Summer Of Sam.

And no photo because (believe it or not) I'm not a crazy stalker - the cute sales rep that came to my office yesterday. Of Middle Eastern descent, tre' cute, from Michigan, and what a nose! Of course, he leaves 3000 miles away and had a ring on his left ring finger. And something tells me The Boyfriend would have frowned upon me throwing myself at the man. He can be so unreasonable.

I guess the point of this creepy post is that all sorts of things (even weird, bizarre things like noses) make a person attractive to the opposite (or same, if that's the way you wave your flag) sex. Romance novels like to condense it down to "tall, dark, and handsome" (lest I forget "bad boy," "rake," and "misunderstood outsider") - but as readers we have (I hope) enough imagination to mold romantic heroes to our own likes. That's not to say the author is wasting her time describing the guy - but as a reader, I take what she writes, and add a little something to it. Like say, a big nose.

Weekend From Hell

It all started on Friday. Now, I had the day off - so one would think it would have been a great day. And it was, until about 8AM. There I was, sipping my morning tea (Earl Grey if memory serves) when my home computer decided to freak out. Turns out, we had a Trojan Horse, 2 viruses and some nasty spyware (that likely was the root of the problem).

Yes, I do have antivirus software and, to add insult to injury, it was corrupted by the above issues.

So I spend all day Friday putzing around with the computer, only to have it finally all fixed today. Although, Flash is still flaking out on me.

Saturday brought more wonderful costumer service from the folks at DirecTV. Swear to God, if The Boyfriend wasn't addicted to NFL Sunday Ticket I would gleefully drop it. Worst Costumer Service on the planet. And by worst I mean essentially non-existent. They were supposed to show up at the new apartment, never did and we ended up calling the installers four times and four times we were assured they'd "call us back." Do you think we ever heard a word from them? Of course not.

On top of that, we finally saw the new apartment yesterday, and while the kitchen looks awesome - the thermostat is from 1975 (it's that old looking) and the outside doorknobs look so rusty that I'd swear they'd been on the unit for the last 40 years (but the apartment complex isn't that old). We haven't signed a lease yet - so we said that we wanted a new thermostat and a new doorknob on the front door (did I mention the lock spring is fudged up on it?).

Now, I'm assuming they'll say no - since this is a corporate run complex and the motto seems to be "if it ain't broke, don't do a damn thing about it" regardless of the fact that the material is shoddy at best. Also, they're hassling us about the DirecTV dish.

Frankly, rent is going to be a butt-load of a cash every month. For the amount they want us to pay - the door knob should function properly, a new thermostat should be installed, and the dish can be above the roof line if necessary. Is this too much to ask? I'm not thinking this is terribly unreasonable behavior on our part.

So while the movers are still set for next Saturday, I'm thinking we'll be cancelling them and bumping the move until later. Which we can because technically we don't have to leave our current residence until January. So there's time.

Oh and top it off, my Tigers looked like shit in Game 1 of the World Series. On the bright side, my older sister is currently sitting in a luxury box at Comerica Park getting ready to watch Game 2. Did I mention that I hate her?

Just One Sip Of Mylanta

I wrapped up the Just One Sip anthology yesterday. I've already talked about the Jennifer Ashley story here - unfortunately the other two aren't much better.

The Katie MacAlister entry suffers from an accute case of series-itis. If you aren't already familiar with her paranormal series featuring the Dark Ones, trust me when I say you will likely be lost. It seems like the author has done some extensive world building, none of which is explained and just "assumed" that the reader is already in the know. Plus, there are other issues.

The heroine has two souls. I'm not sure what is so special about this, but it apparently makes her vulnerable to the "bad guys." The hero is a banished Dark One (which is some sort of vampire) who wants revenge on the hero from Sex, Lies and Vampires (at least the author has a good web site, this info was easy to find out). But he meets the heroine and decides that she is his "Beloved" - that is they'll be linked for all eternity and she'll be able to restore his lost soul. There are also demons, an obnoxious kid, zombies and the heroine's spirit guide who speaks mangled French.

I'm not sure what the hell the French was for, since I literally could never figure out what this character was saying (not that I really wanted to know). I'm thinking it was supposed to be funny, but how funny can it be when I have no idea what the obnoxious little creature is trying to say?

For fans only, and even then the French nonsense might make your eyes roll back into your head.

The Minda Webber story had the best premise out of the bunch, but I kept fantasizing about an crazed gunman with an Uzi mowing down the lead couple. Not a good sign.

The paranormal are now walking among humans, and naturally humans are fascinated. The heroine is the host of a Jerry Springer style talk show, but she really wants to be a serious journalist. She sees her chance when she gets wind of an incubus running amok in New Orleans, raping women and feeding off of their youth (aging them rapidly to the point of death). This brings the heroine back into contact with the hero - a vampire and police detective that she used to date. They broke up when she caught him in a compromising situation.

The hero chases after her and begs her to let him explain. She screams at him and tells him to leave her alone. He eventually gets the hint, but is deeply wounded that she didn't trust him or let him explain. So we have a heroine who refuses to listen, and a hero who is now a Neanderthal because the heroine done him wrong.

Swear to God, I hope the paranormal world has marriage counselors because these two are going to need one. I liked Webber's plot and writing style - but the misunderstanding and complete lack of communication (Talk damn you! Talk!) made my eyes bleed.

All in all, very disappointing. Maybe worth of look if you're a MacAlister fan girl. Otherwise, my final grade = D.

Beam Me Up Scotty

So the really cute guy who works in our maintenance department (hey, I'm not dead - I am allowed to look) just came in and changed all our burnt out flourscent light bulbs.

I've always felt that really good libraries should have a lot of natural light. I like windows and lots of open space. The Old Job had a ton of windows. The only time I hated it was in the middle of August when the temperatures in Southern California hit around 350 degrees. The poor, outdated air conditioning just couldn't keep up.

Well now I'm in a boring administation building. The place is set up sort of like those mazes that researchers teach mice to run through. Although in my case, there's no yummy piece of cheese lying in wait at the end. So there's not a ton of natural light. We have a nice big window in the room where I work - but the person with most seniority (definitely not me) gets the window desk. The rest of us are stuck in high wall cubicles.

I can't stand flourscent light. I can literally feel my retinas melt. Which is interesting since I've worked a lot of jobs under their gentle hum (the mall, countless libraries). So, I really didn't notice how dim our office had gotten. Not until The Cute One came in and changed out the dead bulbs. Oh My God - talk about a let there be light moment! Seriously, I think my brain cells are starting to sizzle. I thought today was going to be one of those Countless Cups Of Caffeine kind of days. Not anymore! I'm wired I tell ya!

And totally unrelated to this post - anyone know of a really great web site where I can find upcoming romance releases? I'm talking books not coming out for months and months? I know some of y'all know of some, and like the idiot that I am I never bookmarked them. Muchos gracias!

Free Will Is So Damn Sexy

Sorry about the infrequent posts lately. It's this moving business. It's like someone has jammed a straw up my nose and decided to suck my brains out.

I'm trying to keep up with my reading/reviewing and the latest book on the chopping block is the Just One Sip anthology by Katie MacAlister, Jennifer Ashley & Minda Webber. Yeah, more vampires. Woo-Frickin'-Hoo. I went through a stretch where I was reviewing a ton of paranormals, and finally had to tell TRR's editor "Enough!" At first I wasn't sure what was causing the burn-out (and at such a rapid pace). Well I eventually figured it out.

The lack of free will.

One of my quirks is that I like people (and coincidentally fiction characters) who know their own minds. They're comfortable in their own skin. Now you might think this makes for "boring" reading - but it truly doesn't. In fact, for me, the best romance novels are about women who don't need the romance. They're doing fine on their own. They don't need no stinkin' white knight to rescue them - they'll figure it out for themselves. When the hero comes along, with his ability to induce screaming orgasms, and they fall madly in love - well that's all gravy for our heroine. If this romance never happened she wouldn't curl up into a little ball and die. She'd keep moving forward. Either way, she's OK.

This isn't always the case in some paranormals because so often the author takes these choices out of the heroine's hands. I've expounded on my utter dislike of the "soul mates" bullshit on more than one forum. Hey, I love The Boyfriend. I mean, I really do. But if he died tomorrow or left me or whatever - I like to think that my life would not be over. I would, with some time, be able to move on. I would find a way to be happy. There would be other options out there for me once I was ready to explore them. So no, I don't believe in soul mates. Why? Because soul mates implies that there is just that one special person out there for you and that's it. You're screwed if you never find them, and if you do and you lose them - well T.S. because you're done. You're out. Forget it.

Such as it is for many paranormal heroines. Some deity proclaims, "Sorry cupcake - but this werewolf/vampire/tree nymph is the only guy for you. And if you don't like it? Well that's just too damn bad. It has been decided for you. So it's either this guy or become a Crazy Cat Lady."

Wow. What options.

Which brings me to the Jennifer Ashley story in this anthology I'm reading. The hero is some sort of vampire master who needs the heroine to freely give her blood to him so he can regain his lost powers. But how to convince her? How about doing the vampire equivalent of the Jedi Mind Meld? The heroine fights it - but she almost keeps calling this asshole "master." Can you say puke?

To the author's credit - she must have realized that I hate this plot device (and really, y'all know she was thinking of me), because she tries to rectify it in the ending. For the most part she's successful, but in order to do so the villain has a change of heart (which didn't work for me very much since I rather liked the villain as a true "bad" guy - but he's still marginally "bad" in the ending so there you go).

So what does all this rambling come down to? Please, for the love of Pete, allow the characters to have some free will. Allow them to make their own choices. Even if they are disastrous ones - they are still choices they made. Choices that they were able to make, good or bad, because of free will.

And truly, what is more sexy than that?

It's Snowing You-Know-Where

Everybody pile on the bandwagon - we're going to the World Series! Consider this regular season highlight video good study material.

Juice Me Baby One More Time

Back to books finally. Unfortunately, this is not going to be a pleasant journey.

The Basics: Hot Night by Shannon McKenna, the latest from one of Brava's hottest authors.

The Plot: Abby Maitland is sick of dating losers. So bye-bye "bad boys" who deplete her checking account and wreck her cars, hello high class guys who know how to order wine and are snappy dressers. Enter her fabulous gay friend, Dovey (swear to God, how come the FGF can never have a name like Bob or Mike) who is fixing her up with guys who meet her criteria. Naturally they're all duds, but interestingly enough the girl doesn't get a clue.

Locking herself out of her apartment she calls our hero, Zan Duncan (honestly now, Zan?!) who is a locksmith and part-time computer guru (which means that while he's a "bad boy" he has money so rah-rah). He shows up, dispatches the latest blind date from hell, unlocks her door and the double entendres begin.

Meanwhile, lurking in the shadows, is the one-dimensionally evil bad guy who wants to steal The Pirate's Horde - an exhibit of sunken pirate treasure soon to be on display at the museum where Abby works. Nothing will stand in his way, and soon a dead body shows up.

The Good: Zan is suitably hunky and charming for the first third of the novel. That's all I got.

The Bad: The suspense thread here is way over the top. I mean, pirate treasure for cripes sake? Still, it could have been campy fun.

The Ugly: This is where the bulk of this novel fell for me, and I blame it all on the heroine. Seriously, I would have gleefully throttled Abby if I had the chance. She runs so hot and cold over the course of the story I got whiplash. She keeps pushing Zan away because he doesn't fit her criteria for the perfect man. For his part, he's persistent - cajoling her, being charming and witty, he damn near begs after a while. Then just as he's about to throw up his hands in frustration and declare it a lost cause, here comes Abby playing all hot to trot and putting her mouth on body parts that would surely send a mixed message to any guy.

But does that stop them from having the same argument over and over again? Of course not, and after a while I couldn't figure out what they were fighting about. Abby wants him, then she doesn't. Zan wants her, gets frustrated, then gets jealous jumping to conclusions and behaving like a Neanderthal. The dead body shows up and Abby somehow manages to get more annoying. They have hot sex, then instead of basking in afterglow, argue some more, declare their "relationship" hopeless but then keep bumping into each other.

Honestly, my head hurts just thinking about it.

And what the hell is up with McKenna and "girl juice?" Swear to God, she used it in the dreadful Return to Me as well. This time out it's, "He fell to his knees and shoved her thighs apart, putting his face to her muff. It was already puffy and slick with copious lashings of girl juice."

Lashings? I'm getting Mutiny On The Bounty images here. And girl juice? Say it with me now - Ewwwwwwwwww. Take a shower sweetie. I'm not sure what girl juice is but I'm thinking it's something that will go away with a little soap and hot water. This is the kind of laughable drivel I have to endure when I'm reviewing.

Just all around bad here folks. I'd place it on the same level as Return to Me, which I pretty much hated as well. I have Out Of Control still lying in the TBR. Please for the love of pete, someone tell me it's better than this one.

Final Grade = D.

Ornery Cuss

Well that didn't take very long.

Monday was Columbus Day here in the States, and in honor of entire indigenous tribes getting wiped out - I got the day off of work. However, there was no joy in Mudville - as I spent the holiday weekend packing.

I. Hate. Moving. Have I said that already?

Anyway, the stress and my general orneriness (is that a word?) has spilled over onto my reading. Yep, in a slump. I'm hoping a change of book will fix it - but let's discuss the book that I'm currently ignoring first.

The Last Bride In Ballymuir by Dorien Kelly is a book I should probably be enjoying - the big reason being it's set in Ireland and the hero's past is wrapped up in The Troubles. But I'm just completely indifferent on it. I'm not liking it, nor am I disliking it. It's just sort of there. Also, it features a plot device that tends to annoy me. The hero is "misunderstood" and everybody in town thinks ill of him except for his sister and the heroine. He's no good. He's trouble. He's a bad, bad boy.

Why characters like this just don't leave town is my guess. I mean, Ireland is a big country. The hero has inherited some money. He's got some options, even given his criminal record. Plus, this sort of conflict just irritates me. I suspect it's because I largely have a live and let live philosophy. As long as your personal business isn't harming anyone - well what do I care? And while the hero was wrongly convicted (naturally), his arrival in town has been quiet. He's staying with sis and going about his business. He's hardly picking up where he left off on the terrorist front. But everybody hates him, nobody likes him, he might as well eat worms.

It also doesn't help matters that I got more review books in, and I was loaded up with some of the hot stuff - including the poorly-reviewed-elsewhere Hot Night by Shannon McKenna. When this author works for me, she really works - and when she doesn't, oh boy is it ugly. But it strikes me as a Popcorn Read - and I think that's what I'm in need of.

So Ballymuir is going to languish on my desk at work, for easy skimming during "lulls." I feel like a shitheel about it, since I know more than one reader who loved the book - but it just ain't motivating me right now - so off we go to McKenna....

So How's That Murderer's Row Thing Working Out?

I take it all back.

In case you're living in a cave, or just don't care - yes, my Tigers beat the Yankees. Yes, the Yankees are going home to face Georgie Porgy (who I imagine had an anuerysm sometime during Game 3) and my boys are going on to face the Oakland A's for the American League title.

But I won't gloat. Instead, here are some quick hit thoughts from yours truly:

• I'm not a true fan. Yep, I thought my boys were going to get their dumb-asses swept by New York.

• I thought the AL title would come down the Yankees and the Twins - both teams are now done for the year. Shows you what I know.
  

• I worried a lot about our pitchers these last two games. Kenny Rogers ends up pitching the best game of his career (and that's factoring in that the guy once threw a perfect game) and Bonderman looked great today. My motto for the rest of the playoffs? Keep worrying about my pitching and they'll do great.
  

• I think Torre is out the door. The Boyfriend thinks I'm full of shit. But they got knocked out in the first round by my Tigers this year, ditto for 2005 except it was the Anaheim Angels and let us not forget that they were up 3-0 in the series against Boston in 2004 and blew it. Boston then went on to win their first World Series title since 1795 (slight exaggeration that).

• Detroit has won, and is advancing - but nobody will be talking about that. Everybody will be talking about "what's wrong with the Yankees?" and "why the Yankees lost" and "how do they fix the Yankees?" Who bloody cares?! Nobody! My team won! Talk about them! You know - the guys who won! And just for fun, how about pronouncing their names correctly?
  

• I think my Yankees Suck T-shirt is bad karma. I wore it during Game 1 and we lost. I put it on for Game 2 and it was rained out. I didn't wear it after that and we win the series. Bye-bye bad juju.

• This one is for Kristie. The Boyfriend is jumping on the bandwagon until (if) Detroit meets the Mets. Then he's off the bandwagon and pulling for Carlos Delgado. I can't fault him too much for this - but I still might smother him in his sleep if it doesn't go my way.
  

Other than that, doing a lot of packing and still in denial about moving. Oh and not reading a whole lot. Probably not a good thing since I just got more review books today.

The Sweet Spot

This one is going to last a while. Yep, just soaking it all up baby!

But tomorrow worries me. Frankly, Bonderman worries me. I wouldn't call him Mr. Consistent. Of course, I spent all day today wondering which Kenny Rogers would show up. Turns out the good one did. So color me happy.

Update on my older sister - she's no longer a bitch because there was a snafu with that luxury box. So she doesn't get to go to the game! Ugh! Good news is I can stop hating her now, but I also feel really bad. That would have been tres' cool.

California Living 101

I am a Midwestern girl, and subsequently have Midwestern sensibilities. That is to say, I think logically, don't believe in buying a purse that costs me more than $30, and think Target is just about the happiest place on Earth. So what happens when you put someone like me smack dab in the middle of Southern California? Well, you learn a few things.

1) Those of you who live outside of CA, and read about CA politics on the Internet or in your local paper probably think, "It's not that wacky. Is it?" Uh, yeah it is. I mean, they elected the Terminator for crying out loud.

2) Everybody smokes crack. It's the only explaination I have come up with to explain the real estate market out here. Look in the L.A. Times and you see cardboard boxes in East L.A. going for $350,000.

The latter has become the issue of the moment. I have hit the official California right of passage. Yes, my apartment building went condo! The management company (let's call them Crack Smokers LLC from here on out), decided to take some very nice apartments, and try to convince suckers that they're condos. Condos with thin walls, too-small AC units, and electrical outlets that have been loose since the day we moved in. Anyway, they're condos now! Buy your lovely 1200 sq. ft., two bedroom unit for (ready for this?) $450,000! Actually that was the original asking price. They then tried to convince us to buy the place for $400,000.

Since The Boyfriend and I are not crack smokers - we declined.

But you'd be amazed how many people are getting roped into these white elephants. Young couples (that would be around my age - 31) with no equity, and no funds to buy a real house. So they think, buying a condo will pave the way. Well it might - assuming the market doesn't bottom out before then (and it's already cooled considerably) and you're stuck with a "condo" that's really a very nice apartment and no one is crazy enough to take it off your hands.

So yeah, we're moving. I should state here that I like to move about as much as getting a kidney removed - but this is an instance where I have no choice. It's either start smoking crack, or move. So we put a deposit down on a new apartment and will be moving by the end of the month. Which means I get to pack up our lives - again (we moved to California 2 years ago back in April and The Boyfriend was already out here so guess who got to do all the packing by herself?). Once again I'm stealing Baker & Taylor boxes from work. Once again, I get to go through our closets and start pitching stuff (this is actually the one benefit to moving really).

I just want to curl up into a little ball and hide from the world until this is all over. Cue violin music here. Want to place any bets on how much reading I actually get done in October?

**Edited** - Snoopy Dance! The Tigers aren't going to get swept! This means my older sister (let's call her the bitch) will get to use the luxury box seats her husband was offered for the Saturday night game in Detroit. I'm green I tells ya! Green!

Wendy, You Ignorant Slut

My TBR Anxiety is killing me. So in a poor attempt to make myself feel better, I have vowed (when I'm in between review books) to dig out some titles that I've had lying around for years. This one has been lying around for at least six. Seriously, I have a problem.

The Basics: All Through The Night by Connie Brockway, published back in 1997. Considered by many to be a "classic." It ranks in at #9 on the AAR Top 100 Romances Poll.

The Plot: Anne Wilder is a nobody in Regency London who married very well. Then her noble husband gets himself killed fighting Napoleon and Anne is left with the guilt. From the outside her marriage looked perfect, but she knows she drove her husband to his death - and consequently because he was a horrible officer, many innocent "baser" born soldiers died. She is doing her penance in charity work, trying to scrap together funds for a home that takes care of veterans (the common soldiers) - but drat it all, members of the gentry are reneging on their pledges. So Anne takes to the roof tops as a cat burglar, stealing baubles and fencing them for her charity work.

Colonel Jack Seward is a man who has sold his soul to the devil. A man who works in the shadows as a spy for his government. His latest mission is to track down this cat burglar stealing from the ton. Seems the thief unwittingly stole a valuable letter - a letter his superiors don't want leaked to the masses. But what happens when he discovers the thief is a woman? He infiltrates society and finds Anne Wilder, a vulnerable widow. But our boy is already distracted by the thief - he cannot afford to be distracted by the widow as well.

The Good: It was so nice to read a Regency-set historical that wasn't fluffy nonsense, that had a real sense of place. I thought Brockway handled the war details well. For a long time the British had a nasty habit of padding their officer ranks with men who had no experience, no brains, but plenty of money, titles and connections. Look no further than The Charge Of The Light Brigade.

I loved that both hero and heroine were simple "common" folk. Seriously, I get tired of reading about Dukes, Earls and What-Not.

I adored how this novel ended. It's a touch mysterious, and not the least bit syrupy. Tired of heroine's squirting out triplets in the epilogue? Read this book.

The Bad: It took forever to go anywhere. Seriously. I almost gave up on it. While I wouldn't say I was bored, I was indifferent for a while because there was no action to speak of. I kept waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Also, I wasn't convinced on the romance for a very long time. Jack doesn't trust anyone (and I mean anyone), and Anne has been running around as a thief - essentially lying to him by omission for a good portion of the novel. Color me crazy, not exactly a great way to start a relationship. They also don't spend a ton of time on meaningful conversation. I was too skeptical for a little too long.

At times I felt the characters were set adrift in the story. There were aspects here that easily could have been written out entirely, and maybe should have because they weren't explored fully. The example that immediately leaps to mind is Sophia - a slutty, young thing that Anne is supposed to be chaperoning (and doing a crappy job of it I might add). This twit was a distraction more often than not. At first I thought she was going to provide conflict, but she really doesn't. She doesn't do much of anything except "ruin" herself and annoy me.

The Final Verdict: I thought this was a good read. An above average read. But not a great read. Frankly, it doesn't even hit my keeper standard. Am I sorry I read it? No. There are aspects of this novel I'll remember for a while (namely the ending). I also enjoyed the setting quite a bit, and trust me when I say I was burnt out on Regency London a long time ago. My Grade = B.

Open Letter To My Detroit Tigers

Dear Boys,
My hopes at the start of the long, ardous baseball season is that you would finally finish above .500 for the first time since 1993. I was one of the few people who actually was brain damaged enough to watch more than one game in the dreaded 2003, 119-loss, season. You were awful. I mean, truly bad. But I kept myself warm at night knowing that the team was made up of players that probably should have been in Triple-A Toledo and not with the big club in Detroit.

Slowly, but surely - you all got better. It also didn't hurt matters that Detroit finally got a general manager who knew his ass from a hole in the ground. Big time signings were made (Pudge), risks were taken (Magglio) and Carlos Guillen stayed healthy for a whole year. So miracle of miracles, you not only got to .500, you clinched a spot in the post season.

Then your last home stand happened. Now, there is no shame in losing 2 out of 3 to the Blue Jays. They're pitching has been sub par this year, and their middle infield blows chunks, but they can hit the crap out of the ball. But Kansas City? You get swept by Kansas-frickin'-Shitty and end up losing the division title to the Twins. Even worse, we lost ugly. I mean, really frickin' fugly. I was spinning a fantasy last night about Pudge taking the bat out of the hitter's hand, walking to the mound and beating Rodney to death. For once, Todd Jones didn't give me a heart attack (although I take shots of Mylanta every time he walks out to the mound) it was Rodney I wanted to beat within an inch of his life.

But it wasn't all his fault. Inge had a meltdown that resulted in a throwing error. Then we load the bases with one out only to come up empty handed. You got out-played by a team that lost 100 games this year.

Yeah, we wouldn't want the division and home field advantage. We wouldn't want to stay at home and play the Oakland A's. No, we want a challenge! We want to go on the road to New York and play the Skankies! In Skankie Stadium. Yeah, I know Randy Johnson is hurt. Yeah, I know Mariano is hurt (who knew my voodoo doll would work?), and maybe the boo birds will continue to harass A-Rod. But with that Murder's Row line-up? And Moose and Wang pitching like they are? The possibilities of embarrassing yourselves are just too high.

Yeah, I know I only dreamed of a .500 season. But you guys gave me hope. And like Morgan Freeman said in Shawshank Redemption:

"Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane."

Which is why I've started drinking now in preparation for tomorrow night's game.