I’m not sure how I haven’t gotten tired of these yet—I usually have by the third or fourth book—whatever it is I’m blaming coronavirus and the brain stupor. (I mean I’m not complaining I’m loving these, this is just an observation.)
After finishing a review copy I’d held on for longer than I should, I grabbed a few more of these from my local library (thanks Hoopla). I stuck with books by K.C. Wells because I enjoyed the others I read by her (My Fair Brady and The Senator’s Secret) and then grabbed a couple toward the top of the list when I sorted by “most popular.”
A few months ago I went through my bookshelves and made a couple of piles of books. The only qualifications were that they had to be on my shelves for a while (this has been on my shelves since 
This was a weird ass novel. I should’ve known it by the title when I requested it from NetGalley, but it was even weirder than I expected.* I’m sure I requested it because the blurb mentioned the modern protagonist was in deep denial about his sexuality, but that’s all I remember the rest was a weird wonderful surprise as I read it.
It feels like ages ago that we were on our (what has come to be) annual trek to warmer climates during the winter. And I miss it so much, I mean look at that water and that blue sky, it was wonderful and even worth the sunburn!