The Mistress of the Art of Death by Ariana Franklin.
I have the happy book feeling.
I’ll pick up The Serpent’s Tale soon (the second book in the series) but probably won’t read it right away. Next I think I’ll either tackle Drood (I just am not sure if I’m up to the length right now) or a re-read of Captain Blood.
I have a huge stack of romances to read … but am not. I can’t call it a slump, exactly — but there are those times (especially when coming off writing the end of a book and diving into another) that I really, really just want to catch up on the TBR and lose myself in a couple of romances, yet I can’t, because I’m concentrating too much on making mine work. I can’t concentrate on the romance I’m reading; every little development, and I’m like: Oh, that wouldn’t work in mine. Or, hmm, I like the dynamics here. So the only real recourse is to read stuff that is deliberately intended to put me in mind of my book as I go along … and so if I’m invested in the story in a strange way, I don’t feel like I’ve cheated myself out of enjoying a romance.