A ravishingly written book that burns ferociously long after the last page has been turned. This book blew. Me. Away. I haven’t laid hands on something this beautiful, this sensuously dark and attractive, since Patrick Susskind’s Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. - read full review
That's how esteemed author Laine Cunningham began her review of Rosy Hours on Writer's Resource today!
It is such an incredible thing when your book finds its mark. It feels as though you're holding someone's hand through the page, tickling their palm, saying 'follow me.'
To be compared to such a phenomenal novel as Perfume is one heck of a compliment.
It hasn't escaped my notice that all of my blog and literature reviews have been by women so far (give or take the garden gnomes, gender questionable). I've had compliments from male readers, and the odd Amazon review, but it is interesting.
And, oh! What women. I think there might just be a breed of dark, sensual devourers of Gothic bloodlust out there. The twisted readers of a red world.
It's also ridiculously gratifying that the biggest supporters of this book have themselves been authors. That's not to say that great reviews are not welcome from all walks - especially avid readers. Just that there's an extra little kick you get down in the pit of your stomach when professional admiration is involved. When you know that you've impressed someone who isn't easily impressed. Someone who knows the ins and outs of what you do, has seen all the back stage trapdoors, and is still willing to applaud the trick itself.
I shall be adding a copy of Cunningham's He Drinks Poison to my TBR pile. My turn to be impressed.