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What’s your guilty pleasure?

What do you read when no one’s watching?

One of my favourite things is discovering a fellow bookworm in an unexpected setting. At a boring dinner party, for example, just as you’re trying to decide whether to liven things up by spiking the strawberry punch — and suddenly realise that the person next to you is a reader. And not just a reader but a reader-reader. It doesn’t even so much matter what they read, only that they do. And that you get to spend the rest of the evening not with your nose in the punch bowl, but rather deciding that The Thorn Birds would have been infinitely improved if Meggie had ended up with Ralph de Bricassart instead of horrid Luke.

But the best is when you happen upon someone who shares your Guilty Pleasure. You know what I’m talking about, those books one is secretly addicted to but rarely talks about, because they feel just a tad too trashy or violent or fluffy to own up to. Guilty Pleasures are secretive by nature, that’s the delicious thrill of them, and yet, every so often you’d love to compare notes with someone as fluffy, trashy and depraved as you.

Enter, your new best friend

So picture this. Meandering across a recent social gathering on a conversational swell of school, the weather and upcoming elections, I find myself in a group with a lady called Catherine. I’ve met Catherine at these things for years, always chatting pleasantly about school, the weather and upcoming elections, but this time, she lets something drop that piqued my interest. We talked about the big bookshop in town (a promising start); she mentions buying several books (for herself, not as gifts, even better), and then, that she got them in the basement floor.

Oooh, this was good. Because that bookshop basement — and the irony is not lost on me — is where they keep Fantasy authors. More specifically, a genre called ‘Romantasy’, which marries Fantasy and Romance, and just so happens to be my own (devastatingly distracting) Guilty Pleasure. Yes, I love historical fiction and crime, and I’m always up for a good romantic comedy. But romantasy is like a box of chocolate one shouldn’t really eat, and certainly not in that quantity. It’s pure indulgence. Epic, gorgeously romantic, sweepingly imagined, a little bit spicy, quite a bit dark. No one I know reads Romantasy (although this might be a side-effect of the secret part of Guilty Pleasures) — until that evening.

A few strategic title drops later and Fantasy-Catherine and I are off, talking fast (and, yes, in slightly hushed tones), about all things faerie, shape shifter and the last brutal battle in A Kingdom of Ash, which we both read in one sitting and didn’t think we’d survive. Half an hour later, we broke apart, phone lists full of new recommendations and the feeling that we just made a new, lovely but kinda-secret friend.

Your turn!

So what’s yours? Apocalyptic zombie thrillers? Steamy cowboy romance? Doggy detectives? There’s no judgment here! Wishing you all manner of obsessive reads this summer, lovely social gatherings during long evenings — and unexpected bookish friends to liven them up.

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