It’s. Over.

I broke off my fictional romance with Edward Cullen this week. Not that I wanted to. It’s only because I completed all katrillion pages of the entire Twilight series in about 20 days. Yes, I have a life (a really busy one at that). Yes, I continued to live it--but I’ve only slept about 25 minutes in the last 20 days. Total.

I haven’t been so drawn to a book in, well…ever. It’s not a genre I generally go for. I don’t like fantasy (except for the ones swirling around in my own head where I have a perma-good hair day and no appetite). I don’t like vampires (unless we’re talking about a virtuous and devastatingly handsome one). I don’t like werewolves at all—not even IN the book, and that wasn’t enough to end it for me. As I am acutely aware of my own weaknesses, I can tell you EXCACTLY why:

For me, Krispy Kreme doughnuts are nothing compared to the power of a righteous man (or stone cold immortal).

It’s my own personal kryptonite.

It’s why Twilight brought me to tears. It’s why my heart STILL skips a beat around full-time missionaries (who are young enough to be my kids…er, kid brothers). It’s why I will forever have a crush on Captian Moroni. It’s why Donny Osmond was my first love...

And why I married my last.


Lucky me. He has some BrEaThTaKiNg vampire moves of his own.