My mom is 48 years old, and she’s an avid Young Adult fiction reader. That’s right. All stereotypes be damned, she loves it. That’s not to say that she doesn’t own every Nora Roberts book ever written (because believe me, she does). However, she’s just as likely to sit down with the Twilight Saga and be whisked away to Forks for a few hours.
I can confidently say that if I were a library, she’d be my biggest patron. With that said, she’s taken a certain series of mine hostage for the last week or so.
After sitting through my lecture about why Warner is superior to Adam for the umpteenth time, she finally decided to read the Shatter Me trilogy (or whatever name you prefer for that series). I raced back to my room and grabbed Shatter Me, eager for her to start.
And then she didn’t.
She held my book hostage for a good day or two before she began.
And then it happened.
After I bugged her about starting for the eighth time that hour, she caved. That evening, she began Shatter Me.
By the next morning, she was after Unravel Me. That morning, instead of usual conversation, I was greeted with the obligatory “…you like WARNER???” and a look that suggested I be institutionalized. I sent her on her way, assuring her that she’d soon see the error of her Adam loving ways.
She read Unravel Me before the day was over.
Ignite Me came next. I woke up at about two AM that night wanting a drink. I walked out to the kitchen to find my mother pages away from finishing Ignite Me.
The transformation is complete.
Some actual conversation clips from the last few days:
Me: Ah, the slippery slope of Warner sickness.
Mom: And I’m sliding fast…
Mom: Kenji is basically Morgan Freeman. (as we’re watching Robin Hood)
Mom: Haha, the whiny one would be Adam of course.
I’ll end this post with a tally of how many times my mom has read these books in the past week.
Shatter Me: 2
Unravel Me: 2
Ignite Me: 3
Unite Me: 2
I want my books back…