I find myself in the awkward position of having to recant a statement I made in last week's blog post concerning vampires. I mentioned that they were "so yesterday." Boy, was I wrong. I just finished reading "A Discovery of Witches" by Deborah Harkness and my antipathy for the undead is no longer. Matthew Clermont is one hot vampire. His romance with historian and witch Diana Bishop begins in Oxford's Bodleian library and ranges from France to upstate New York. We have forbidden love, lost manuscripts, and secret orders of knights all wrapped up in a juicy novel. And the best part is that it is only volume one of the All Souls trilogy. Can't wait for volume two!
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Hate to re-diss, but Boston Globe (2/17) called this "horror-movie kitsch" "New Age cheesiness" "romance-novel saccharine" but admitted it's "schlocky fun". Put me in the "sick to death of vampires" camp!
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