Originally I was reading this bestseller espionage thing to tide me over until my first of the le Carre novels come in to the library for me, but it turned out to be absolutely terrible.  

So my housemate shoved The Hunger Games at me and told me I wouldn’t want to put it down.

Well, the last line of the first chapter actually made me wail so loud that said housemate asked if I was okay from the other side of the apartment. (That’s all I’ll say, don’t want to spoil it.)  And now I’m hooked.  The world-building, although it is completely dissimilar, gives me the same feeling of wonder and immersion that The Giver did in fifth grade (whatever your feelings on that one may be, it is a long-beloved favorite of mine).

This must be what love is.  Books, once again you have cemented your place as my valentine.