weekend reading
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Not every book belongs to a weekday. Some stories feel wrong to start in ten stolen minutes before bed. Others deserve more than a distracted brain and a looming to-do list. Over time, I’ve realized there are books I instinctively save—not because they’re difficult or precious, but because they ask for a different kind of
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Some weeks demand an escape hatch—preferably one lined with pages, portals, and plots that dissolve the world around you. Lucky for us, yesterday’s Reader’s Choice poll delivered a delicious theme: Take Me Somewhere Else. And honestly? I couldn’t wait to dig in. So today, we’re diving into stories that don’t just entertain… they transport. Books
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There’s something sacred about Sundays—the air feels softer, time stretches just a little, and we finally give ourselves permission to breathe. It’s the perfect day to let magic slip in quietly, like sunlight through a windowpane. And few books embody that kind of tender enchantment better than The House in the Cerulean Sea by T.
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There’s something sacred about slow weekends—the kind where the coffee stays warm, the pages keep turning, and the real world feels just a bit farther away. This weekend, I leaned into comfort and curiosity, mixing spicy romance with windswept fantasy and letting my reading mood take the lead. Here’s what’s been keeping me company: 📖
literary gluttony 