Auntie B's Wax

Harry Potter wine charms at Auntie B’s Wax.

Over the past few months I’ve been reading the Harry Potter books. They were well-received gifts to Paenney (my nephew) for various occasions when he was younger, so Charlotte has a nice collection of them in Paenney’s section of the bookshelf. Unfortunately the collection stops at Order of the Phoenix, which is the fifth out of seven books. I got a little panicky when I finished the Order of the Phoenix because I knew there would be no more, at least coming from Charlotte’s house. Going to sleep with Hogwarts on my mind had become routine, and everyone knows I loathe a change of routine.

I’ll revisit Hogwarts at some point, but for now I’m revisiting a book I read years ago. About twenty years ago to be more specific. I read it on the beaches of Sanibel Island, Florida during a time where an imaginary escape to New Orleans to meet the Mayfair witches was just the medicine I needed, along with the calming seashore. The book is The Witching Hour by Anne Rice.

My latest indulgence.

Way back then, Anne Rice was the only person I knew of who wrote about things that fascinated me, like vampires and witches, in such a captivating way. Her descriptive powers could put people, houses, and cities in my mind’s eye with incredible detail. I’ve collected a number of her books throughout the years and really love what she wrote throughout the decades of the ’70s, ’80s and ’90s.

So I’m being enraptured all over again with the Mayfair witches. Maybe when I’m finished reading the one thousand plus pages of this book I’ll go back to Hogwarts. Or maybe I’ll choose to stay in New Orleans and select another book from my Anne Rice collection. One thing’s for sure, my reading choices lately are those of extreme imagination. Magic and the preternatural in a gothic setting will get me every time.

To what kind of worlds do you like to fly when you read?

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