I’ve always loved to read, and it makes me so happy that my son also loves to read. It’s exciting to see him pick up books that I read when I was a kid (the E. B. White titles, the Encyclopedia Brown series) and to see him discover his own interests along the way.

My son has been on a mythology kick, reading up on his Greek gods and asking me questions about what he’s learning. He’s still young enough that he hasn’t realize I don’t have all the answers (which is just fine with me). I ran across the book Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief and knew a tiny bit about it. Turned it over and read the back cover – Greek gods! Adventure! Surely, he would love this.

“Spencer, I found a book for you,” I said.

“I don’t want to read that book.”

“Read the back, I think you’ll like it.”

He holds book and scans the back. “It doesn’t look good.”

“This is right up your alley! All about a regular kid who meets up with the ancient Greeks!”

“It looks dumb.”

“If you don’t like it I’ll buy you five books that you do like. But you have to read it.”

He looks at me, trying to find the trap. “Okay.”

So we took the book home and it sat for a few weeks. I reminded him that he needed to read the book as promised and he reluctantly picked it up, reading a page at a time and expressing his distaste for it. Then came the day when I walked past his room well past bedtime and his light was on. I opened the door and he was reading his Percy Jackson book. He looked up with a sheepish smile and told me how much he loved the book.

After he finished it, he walked up to me with purpose and handed me the book.

“Mom. You HAVE to read this book. You will love it.”

So, while it’s not my normal type of read, I did read it. And it was really good. Definitely written for a younger audience, but it thrilled and captivated me nonetheless.

He’s now on to book two and I’m impatiently waiting for him to finish it so I can get my fix.

Okay, so I’ll admit, I’m a little partial to this auther, Bente (pronounced Ben-tah) Gallagher, also affectionately known as Jennie Bentley (Berkley Prime Crime, DIY author). I’m partial because she’s my writing critique partner. She’s Norwegian and living in the South, and I’m Californian, living in Norwegian country better known as the Upper Midwest.

Okay, so I read this book before it was ever sold, and I loved it. Just like Bente, I knew when the right publishing company read the manuscript they’d love it as much as I did.

Savannah Martin is new to the real estate business, and she’s determined to make a go of it. After divorcing her cheating husband, she’s dating the man her family thinks is perfect, but does she think he’s perfect?

After receiving a phone call about a house on the market, Savannah thinks she’s onto her big break. That is until she enters the house and stumbles upon the dead body of a rival real estate agent. To make matters worse, the “bad boy” from high school is back in town, and Rafe Collier is the guy no Southern Belle would bring home to the family. But Savannah just can’t help her attraction…

Bente has put together a smart, fast paced mystery with A Cutthroat Business. A great summer read.

Here some fun facts about Bente Gallagher:

Random fact #1: A Swedish stripper I once sat next to on an airplane to Europe offered to father my first child. Being the innocent sort, I didn’t realize what he was doing until a few days later, when I told a friend what had happened and she said, “Oh, yeah…”

Random fact #2: I’m horribly afraid of bugs. You might even call it a phobia. It’s the legs. Many are the times I’ve stood in a corner of the shower, clutching the shower curtain around my palpitating (and wet) body, shrieking myself hoarse because a cricket has made it into the bathroom. And no, I can’t bring myself to go close enough to kill them. Hence the shrieking for help. All the women in my books are afraid of bugs, too.

Random fact #3: I mix up my rights and lefts. It’s left over – no pun intended – from a stint I did as a tour guide for one of our local tour companies awhile back. I spent a couple of years standing at the front of a tour bus with my back to traffic, gesturing with my right hand, saying, “On your left…” That kind of thing can’t help but leave scars. One of these days, I’ll work it into a book.

Random fact #4: In my New York acting days, I had a buddy who was a regular on the Cosby Show. He invited me to visit the rehearsals and meet the cast, and I got to spend an afternoon speaking Norwegian with Earle Hyman, who played Russell Huxtable, Bill Cosby’s dad, on the show. He owns a vacation home on the western coast of Norway, and he has been performing in Norwegian – as well as Swedish and Danish – theatre longer than I’ve been alive. In Norwegian, Swedish and Danish, no less! (I also met the rest of them, of course, but Earle was by far the most fun.)

Random fact #5: In addition to English and Norwegian, and of course Swedish and Danish, I speak German and French. Once upon a time I was fluent in all of them; these days I remember just enough to ask for directions and order food and generally survive if dropped into the middle of Paris or Bavaria. But given that English is a second language for me, and I’ve somehow managed to dupe an agent and an editor into believing that I handle it well enough to deserve two multiple-book contracts, I don’t think I’m doing too badly.

Denke vielmals, Bente, for providing these facts. I only speak Deutsch.

Years ago, I loved vampires. I remember having a fascination with Dracula when I was about 10, and my best friend and I would spend hours at the library checking out books about Dracula and reading about “Vlad the Impaler.” In my 20s, I devoured the sexy Lestat books by Anne Rice and the scary Necroscope books by Brian Lumley. Eventually I moved on to other types of books, and my interest in the supernatural waned.

And then came Sookie Stackhouse. A friend told me about the True Blood television series and it sounded … well … completely absurd. She laughed while she tried to explain it, knowing how crazy it sounded. She told me that the show was based on a book series and she absolutely loved them. I didn’t pick them up right away, but the more I thought about it, the more enticing it sounded. After all, that’s always what I’ve loved about Stephen King books – it seems perfectly acceptable when you’re reading it, but always sounds crazy when you try to explain it to someone else.

So, one day while picking up a few things at the corner store, I happened upon the first title in the series. “What could it hurt?” I wondered.  I bought it. The next day I went back to buy the next 3 titles that were on the shelf. By week’s end, I had visited several stores to round out my collection, and I spent a lovely time in Bon Temps, learning about the world of the “supes” that Sookie knows so well.

I’ve just finished the newly-released 10th book in the series (Dead in the Family – available here) and started watching season 3 of the show (love it!). And then I’ll wait for the 11th book … assuming there will be one. I hope it doesn’t take too long.

In the meantime, there is this other series I’ve heard of, I think the heroine is called Bella …

And FTR: I’m “Team Eric”

As the oldest of five children, four of whom are girls, I know what it’s like to be surrounded by strong, passionate, complicated women. Our age difference spans eleven years and our personalities are as sharp and distinct as a new box of crayons. Not just regular ole crayons either. We’re the sassy colors with crazy names. I’m not just “red,” I’m “razzle dazzle rose.” Throw in a mother and stepmother and it’s no mystery why I’m attracted to books about the sisterhood.

The sisterhood is defined by stories revolving around a group of women, their shared experiences and how they interact. The first book I ever read that really cemented my love for this genre (yes, I’m officially calling it a genre) was Little Altars Everywhere by Rebecca Wells. From the strained relationship between mother and daughter (Siddalee and Vivi) to the Ya-Yas (whose friendship spans decades) Altars is a poignant look at the complexity of women and those we trust with our secrets.

In December our book club read The Help by Kathryn Stockett and last month we had the pleasure of reading Saving CeeCee Honeycutt by Beth Hoffman. These books resulted in two of the best discussions we’ve ever had. Don’t get me wrong, we always have a great discussion in book club because it’s a sisterhood in and of itself. When the eight of us get together we’re like those sparkly neon crayons kids use for special projects.

Stories like The Help and Saving CeeCee Honeycutt, both debut novels, show the author’s amazing ability to give each character a unique voice. Even in group scenes, you can still hear each of them distinctly. In the final chapters of Saving CeeCee Honeycutt when Aunt Tootie’s longtime cook Oletta, tenderly talks to CeeCee about her mother’s mental illness and CeeCee’s fear of inheriting it, the conversation is so powerful and written so beautifully I could swear I was sitting on the edge of the bed with them.

Stories of the sisterhood have a recurrent theme, nurture and protect. Individually the characters live their lives experiencing hurt, sadness, pain and disappointment but when they come together, there is a momentary respite. The sisterhood cannot cure disease, bring back loved ones who have died or heal emotional scars from childhood but it lifts the characters up, makes them stronger and gives them courage to continue on their personal journey.

The beauty of the sisterhood is that it’s not bound by age or other demographic. Ann Brashares wrote about traveling pant-trading tweens, and Candace Bushnell successfully turned the sisterhood in to a franchise by introducing us to five fashionable forty-somethings from Sex And The City.

Whether it’s a Book Club, Red Hat Club, Garden Club, or eating cupcakes with the ladies at a wine dive (maybe that was just me) the pull of the real life sisterhood is strong. Women are complex creatures with dramatic tendencies. We want to stand out in a crowd yet belong to a group. We strive to take the spotlight but we will gladly sing in the backup choir if it’s our friend’s turn to shine.  I say, long live the sisterhood.