bookshopYesterday, in honour of the Bank Holiday, I went on the first book spending spree that I’ve had in a long time. I haven’t been writing much about new books simply because I haven’t really been buying any; the Book God’s largesse at Christmas and my birthday at the end of January satisfied my cravings, and I was determined to make inroads into the tbr pile which now resembles nothing so much as the Great Pyramid.

But yesterday was a public holiday close to payday, and I found myself in a book shop and just had to succumb.

The spoils were:

  • The Bone Garden by Tess Gerritsen – following on from my recent post I just had to get the next one in the series, possibly to hold for August Crime Month
  • Henry by David Starkey – my love for the sixteenth century is well-known and I’ve been watching Starkey’s series on TV so this was a bit of a no-brainer
  • Bloomsbury Ballerina by Judith Mackrell – this has been on my wishlist for ages, snaffled now that it’s out in paperback; and
  • A Literature of Their Own by Elaine Showalter – British women writers from Charlotte Bronte to Doris Lessing – ’nuff said.

Not a bad haul for someone who really wasn’t intending to get anything at all – well, maybe Henry was always in the cards, the others were a bonus!

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