SPOILER ALERT: Dinna read unless you have read chapter 93 in AN ECHO IN THE BONE.
I am never going to finish this book if I don't stop STOPPING. But I canna help it; I have to blog. I have to write. I have to get all of this toxic shite OUT of my brain. And I also have to seek solace in YOU good sassenachs.. because you have all read this and have been through this gut wrenching ride I am now taking. It. Is. Killing. Me. And yet... I'm enjoying the heck out of it. Is that odd? Do I need therapy? I'm thinking the answer is "yes" on both counts.
OK all I really want to say right now is this: If I were Claire... and I was told Jamie was dead... and William walked into the room... I would ab-so-lute-ly LOSE IT - and I would DROP at his feet! If they are such doppelgangers, I would have my arms round his ankles and I'd be yelling "I LOVE YOU JAMIE!!! I LOVE YOU JAMIE!!!" as he tried to shoo me away with his - ah - shoe. It would be one ugly scene. And Tracey would undoubtedly be rolling her eyes at my mother and saying "Someone really needs to get her some Valium".
OK have to go finish 93 and hopefully the book. I'm at 94% on the Kindle. It's 7:09 and The Pacific (aka awesome show on HBO starring Joe Mazzello who is MY YOUNG IAN MURRAY) is on at 9:00.
Pray for me por favor...I'll be back with an update soon!
PS - Has anyone realized how eerily calm I sound for someone who is soon to finish Echo? I am starting to worry about myself. Truly.