Spent yesterday timing contractions, popping Nifedipine and reading Mr. Impossible. Guess which I enjoyed most? Yes, Mr. Impossible, by Loretta Chase! I’m really enjoying this series and looking forward to the next installment.
Mr. Impossible features the hellion younger son who meets his match in a brainy widow. I loved the wit, the dialog, the pacing, the characters and of course I was into all the Egyptian stuff. Mr. Impossible is not what he seems; he has layers. The widow is not what she seems, either. She has secrets. Watching these two discover themselves and each other is more than half the fun of the book, although all the intrigue and adventure is pretty fun stuff, too. Corrupt officials, kidnappings and murders provide plenty of action for this “something must happen” junkie. (I’m one of those people who cannot sit through a weepy drama where Nothing Happens except angst, angst, angst. Angst is not plot. It might be motivation, but it gets boring fast.) Also, the mongoose was cute.
I found Mr. Impossible a fast, fun read and just the thing to occupy my mind happily. I’m putting it next to my other Chase books, keepers all.
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