Monday, April 24, 2017

THE MAN OF MY DREAMS was all about reality

I read Curtis Sittenfeld's PREP a few years ago and loved the awkward honesty with which she portrayed adolescence. So when I found a hardcover of THE MAN OF MY DREAMS at a thrift store, I snapped it up and binge read.

The same awkward honesty from PREP is omnipresent in THE MAN OF MY DREAMS and was heart-breakingly relateable to my twenty-something self. Reading about Hannah felt like reading about myself.

The way Hannah refuses to follow a mediocre man even if she is comfortable with him. The way that she chooses "the love of her life" but take no action towards capturing it. The way she accepts inferior love because she is afraid to ask for more. All of this felt like parts of my own existence. I was so acutely aware of the detailed feeling that I filled in the gaps in the poetic prose, knowing the nuances underneath the broad strokes made by the Sittenfeld's descriptively sparse but when aimed sentences.

I also really loved Hannah's therapy experiences as well as her extreme reluctance to admit she was seeing a therapist at all. Although I have never been to a therapist, her experiences are exactly how I would want mine to go. Those scenes made me feel like maybe I don't need to be so scared to talk to someone.

Finally, I loved Hannah's ending or beginning. Whatever you want to call it. But I won't say to much about that because you should go read it!

Sunday, April 23, 2017

bitty words #13


I echoed his sentiments in a dreamy tone, too gloriously satisfied to say more.

"No," he sat up and looked at me in the dusky light from the open bedroom door. "Like, so much better than I remembered it. And I remembered it being pretty good."

I giggled. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended. Both I guess, since both times were me."

"Stop, I didn't mean it like that. It's a compliment." He seemed to have missed my giggle and playful tone.

"It's okay. I'm not offended." I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You were really great, too."

He all but growled as he caged himself over me. "Think I can be really great, twice in a row?"

I didn't have a chance to answer him as his mouth crashed into mine, demanding and urgent.  I pressed one hand against the smooth skin of his chest and threaded the other through his Adonis curls.

As we came up for air, I whispered between kisses on his neck. "Don't disappoint me now."

He laughed and rolled onto his back, taking me with him. Looking up at me, his smile was almost sinister. He had definitely accepted my challenge.

A shiver of anticipation ran through me before we attacked each other again.

Friday, April 21, 2017

bitty words #12

He dropped kissed across my collarbone and any hesitations I may or may not have had about going back there evaporated.

"Let's get you out of that dress," He whispered, his hot breath dancing across my neck.

I answered him by grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling. He laughed as he flung it off, his impossibly defined abs now on full display, and laced his fingers through mine pulling toward the bedroom.

Yep. All hesitations were definitely gone.

Once inside his room he spun me into an embrace, pressing his body against my back and wrapping his arms around me.

"This is really such a great dress," He whispered. He ran his hand over the soft wool of my skirt, grabbing curves along the way.

I gave a half-hearted thanks, but I didn't really care if he liked the dress. I wanted to be kissing him again. "Are you gonna compliment it or take it off?" I asked with my characteristic snark.

He laughed into the curve of my neck and I felt his fingers on the zipper. I turned to face him as I let the dress fall to the floor.

His sound of lustful approval defied description as his eyes scanned my body.

I stepped out of my dress, rising up on my toes, and pressed myself against his bare chest. His skin felt scalding but in the best way. I was close enough to kiss him but I didn't. I catalogued the details of his face instead. The feathery lashes, the crinkles near his gold-flecked eyes, and the incorrigible way his hair curled across his forehead.

This man was seriously too attractive for his own good.

He interrupted my musings on his status as a perfect male specimen with a passionate kiss that left me breathless. I was trying to remember my own name when he half pushed half carried me onto his bed.

I giggled as he landed on top of me.

He hovered over me, poised to kiss me, but paused. "Did you miss me, Princess?"

My snark kicked in before I could stop it. "No, missing you would require feelings and I don't have those." I literally bit my tongue, holding it between my teeth as I waited to see if I'd gone to far.

He dropped his head onto my chest and laughed, vibrating my whole body with his mirth. "You're such a pain in my ass," he said.

And then neither one of us said anything coherent for a long time.

To reread or not to reread? That is the question.

I don't reread books that often. Sure, I've read the entire Harry Potter series too many times to count and a few others have snuck ...