I admit it: I am a fan of Janet Evanovich. Have been for ages. Her books are perfect when you do not want to think. They remind me, though set in TRenton, of certain aspects of the area where I grew up. They remind me of big hair and accents. And, of course, they are sooooo realistic and such dense prose. Anyway, I love them and yes, on occasion they have to do with food. Here is the first little bit of Fearless Fourteen, which I am reading to fend off real life:
In my mind, my kitchen is filled with crackers and cheese, roast chicken leftovers, farm fresh eggs, and coffee beans ready to grind. The reality is that I keep my Smith & Wesson in the cookie jar, my Oreos in the microwave, a jar of peanut butter and hamster food in the over-the-counter cupboard, and I have beer and olives in the refrigerator. I used to have a birthday cake in the freezer for emergencies, but I ate it.
Truth is, I would dearly love to be a domestic goddess, but the birthday cake keeps getting eaten. I mean, you buy it, and you eat it, right? And then where are you? No birthday cake. Ditto cheese and crackers and eggs and the roast chicken leftovers (which were from my mother). The coffee beans are light-years away. I don't own a grinder. I guess I could buy two birthday cakes, but I'm afraid I'd eat them both. (page 1)
Somehow, this was the perfect thing to read this morning. Thanks to Janet and to Stephanie Plum
