Never one to miss the book festival (really, it is so much more than just romance), an extra-large green tote resting on her arm and a book in her hand she walked slowly down Snidget rd towards home. She’d picked up at least 15 books, okay maybe it was more around 17 but Sylvan wasn’t going to count. She’d told herself she’d only pick up 5 books but perhaps it was the Ravenclaw in her that she couldn’t limit herself to just five.
The book currently in her hand showed an extremely good looking man sitting in front of (shirtless of course) different kinds of bread. Reading the back it seemed it was a typical story but the food angle gave her hope and it was by one of her preferred authors.
“Sexy,” Sylvan muttered as she wasn’t walking where she was going and felt herself start to trip.