Everyone already knows that I love to read, and usually I am totally out and proud to announce that I love kids books. I say things like, "I love juvenile literature." Firmly. Because I was raised by my parents, certainly, but also by Narnia, Oz, Middle Earth, King Arthur, Nancy Drew, Anne and Emily, Gulliver, and a host of other childhood friends. Add to that that one of the best joys of motherhood is access to the constant stream of books my kids bring home, from Ivy and Bean to Uglies and Pretties.
Yep, I'm proud of my affinity for all of the non-adult genres, but last week when I was happily browsing at the delightful downtown Barnes and Noble I really had to own it. There I was, blissfully perusing the jackets in the Young Adult section, when I looked up and noticed the sign above the shelves. It read, "Teen Paranormal Romance."
Oh. I know. I do like those.
