So, I thought I should have a dear diary moment. I am reading some gossip biography book about a character in the 18 and 19th century England. So far-- I am focused on a certain influential familiy during those days. Two sisters, their husbands, their mother, their connection to then prince of Wales--George IV. I have read each biography of the mentioned relations, meaning six books with each having at least 400 pages. Now, I am reading the bio, of the niece of one of the sisters and daughter of the other sister. This author who wrote the nieces' bio, is so talented, so gossipy, so meticulously informational, that I am aghast at how lucky I am to have found this gem. Wow. The book reads like a volcanic novel, mixed with fantastic characters that give me violent orgasms. Sometimes I have to remind myself I am not reading a fiction, but a true, delicious none fiction.
I googled the author of the niece bio, and she looks truly unlike what I envisioned.

I imagined she would be delicate, pale skin, beautiful, certainly wearing bright pearl necklace. Instead, I see a grotesque look alike of the middle aged singer Susan boyle, naturally I was disappointed, but that DOES NOT diminish my gratitude to her-- for writing this amazing work of malaab' mixed with decadent choco-lat.`
