I purchased a book today because the dust jacket was pretty. I looked at the book and said, that is so beautiful and it will look lovely on my shelf. The Watchers by Jon Steele was a used book in our library's book sale and it only cost $1.00 but I honestly don't know if I will ever read this book. Its not that it isn't a good book. The dust jacket blurb seems interesting enough and I am not discounting it completely, but I really only bought it because it was pretty and now I am shaming myself because of it. I have only done this once before. The book was Styx by Sherrilyn Kenyon. The dust jacket on that book was simply beautiful, I had purchased a ticket for a book stampede during our annual trivia night and it was the most beautiful book on the table, so I grabbed it. This situation with The Watchers is a bit different. I was under no pressure to select it or any other as I was during the book stampede. I am not familiar with the author and I am familiar with Kenyon and I usually don't impulse buy outside of my genres of choice, but I do love books. Old books and new, pretty and shiney, tattered and torn; all the books I do choose find a loving home where they need no longer worry over dog eared pages, spills or the recycle bin.
Maybe this book needed me.
It called to me with its beautiful blue cover and satiny designs.
Yeah, that's what I will tell myself.
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