You’re lucky to be reading this. I almost never got this article written. You see, I’ve been worthless the past few days. My house is a pit. I haven’t done hardly any writing. I’m neglecting my husband and kids. I’m barely eating or sleeping, and I can’t be bothered with checking e-mail. Why am I doing this? Do I have an illness? No. My daughter got me addicted to the Twilight series of books and I can’t stop reading until I’m through the entire series.
I realize I’m coming late to a party that, seemingly, everyone has been to. Some of you already know the powerful allure Stephenie Meyer’s vampire romance/thrillers hold over unsuspecting readers. I was aware that the books were out there, I mean, I’d seen the endcap displays at Barnes and Noble and heard the hyperbolic comparisons to other successful series and dismissed them. Anymore, every publisher who prints a sci-fi/fantasy book shouts out blurbs from unheard of critics who claim, “Best thing since Harry Potter.”
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