This has been the ongoing situation with me and Instant Attraction by Jill Shalvis. Everybody raved about it when it came out and I felt I had to have it. I don't read many contemporaries, AND it was trade, so it was a big thing for me to buy it.
After I buy books, I have this little thing I do where I bring them to bed, which is where I do 90% of my reading, and set them out in front of me and look at the covers and read the back copy and stuff and admire them. So, I remember doing this. I remember the guy's jacket on the front, and that it was a trade edition. And then I put it in my little TBR area under my bedside table, super excited to read it after I finished whatever I was reading at the time. And that's the last I saw of it.
I still really really want to read it, and I think I may want to read other Jill Shalvis books, but I won't know until I read this one, and I can't find this one. And I'm not going to check it out of the library or borrow it from somebody when I own a copy, and I'm not going to buy another copy. It's like the Jill Shalvis portion of my reading life is totally held hostage in an ongoing crisis characterized by distinct and often painful phases:
Denial: That's funny, I thought it was here in my TBR area. Oh, well, it'll turn up. Read sexy vampires instead.
Vague effort: I finish sexy vampires and I'm ready for Instant Attraction. That's funny, I totally thought it was here. Slightly deeper search in TBR area next to bed. Ooh, interplantery travel with smutty interludes! Read sci fi instead.
Annoyance: Finish several books and really crave to read Instant Attraction. WTF? I know it was here. Seach full TBR area, then settle for a book I want to read way less.
Full Dust Bunny Safari: Weeks later, think fondly of plot of IA. Mousey accountant. Hunky snowboarder. Conduct anexhaustive search in sattelite TBR areas, all bookcases, and fully under bed, which has lots of dust. Emerge sneezy and crabby and in the mood for a historical.
Self doubt: How does a book disappear? Where could it be? Am I sure I bought it? Did I look at pictures of it online and it burned into my mind? But, I know I bought it.
Dashed hopes: Months later, while cleaning, spy a book BEHIND a book shelf. I become excited. Instant Attraction? Could it be? No, a C.E. Murphy I already read! Weeks later, light bulb goes off in head. Maybe it is in the suitcase from my trip to Mexico! In an inside pocket! Rush to suitcase. Empty. $#%&.
Bargaining: Maybe if I stop looking for it, it will turn up, or I will suddenly remember where I put it. Drown myself in the charms of all other books except Instant Attraction.
Forgetting: Start forgetting about it, thanks to the charms of the many other fabulous books I read. More new books come out, easing the pain of knowing that book has to be here somewhere.
Anger: I see a great review of Instant Attraction. Where the #&*$ is my copy? I know it's here somewhere! Renewed search of TBR area. Portions of cycle repeat.
Instant Attraction, where are you??????? Mousey accountant. Hunky snowboarder. Both wrestling with demons. The cabin. Sigh. Has this ever happened to you? What book? Where did the book turn up?
**UPDATE**: Jill Shalvis has kindly offered to send me another copy of IA!! (See comments). After some hesitation, I decided to take her up on her generous offer, and do Renee's suggestion and hold a contest for the lost copy when and if it turns up...in hopefully readable condition. Yay!
.jpg)
.png)
.png)
