I know, I know, it's not Monday anymore. I got a little caught up with some life stuff last night, but I'm here now, and this is what I want to chat about before getting back into my regular blog schedule next week. Man crushes. Because boy oh boy do I have a doozy for you this week.
Okay, hi, if you haven't read A Study in Charlotte and The Last of August, what are you even doing. (No, I'm kidding, I don't judge, but seriously, they're SO GOOD.) Jamie Watson is the dreamiest high school boy of them all, and I don't even feel bad admitting that. Why? Well, I'll just talk about him for a while, okay?
(P.S. The Last of August wrecked me. I'm not okay.)
The backstory on James Watson, Jr. is that he was given a rugby scholarship to attend a prep school in Connecticut, where he just so happens to run into Charlotte Holmes. Do these names sound familiar? They should. In the world of Jamie and Charlotte, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were real people who had descendants who eventually produced Jamie and Charlotte. They're framed for a murder, but really it's Charlotte that the killer is after, so Jamie almost dies. Multiple times. Over Christmas break, they end up in Berlin chasing after Charlotte's missing uncle, and there is adventure and there are feelings and Jamie's love for Charlotte is so pure and deep that it's hard to stop thinking about them after you're done reading.
But what puts Jamie over the edge for me, what makes him swoonworthy and wonderful, is this: Charlotte was raped before Jamie knew her, and it has left her with PTSD in the form of aversion to physical affection. And Jamie loves her so much, SO MUCH. They keep trying to make the physical part of their relationship work, and it isn't because Charlotte has a past, and then they fight and get into trouble and are still there protecting each other. Jamie is the other half of Charlotte's coin, and vice versa. Where Charlotte is all darkness and sharp edges, Jamie is the bright winter sun and a soft place to land. And so on and so forth.
They are real to me. And the ending of The Last of August left me just... shook. And I have to wait a whole year to find out if they're okay. A YEAR.
(At least I'm hopefully going to meet Brittany Cavallaro this weekend at the North Texas Teen Book Festival. That should help. UNLESS SHE'S INTENT ON KEEPING THINGS A SECRET, IN WHICH CASE I MIGHT CRY AND THEN MOVE TO GUAM.) Why are you doing this to me, Brittany?!
(Please keep doing this to me.)