I’ve been slack with my book reviews lately, but, in my defence, I have a rock-solid excuse: I’ve been on holiday. Because I spent most of that holiday eating ice cream, buying vintage clothes, and hanging out with my family in LA (as opposed to reading books), blogging kind of slid to the bottom of my to-do list. I’ve forgiven myself and moved on, although I’m still grieving just a little bit for my holiday.

When I came home earlier this month, I wanted a comfort read. I’ve got a new job, and even though I haven’t quit the bookshop, I’m now only working there for three hours on a Sunday afternoon (yeah, someone can’t bear to give up their staff discount). The pressure’s off to read new releases all the time, so, finally, I’ve been able to turn to the groaning shelf of books-not-published-in-the-past-three-months that have been demanding my…

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