Book of The Week: Light My Fire by Katie MacAlister

Katie MacAlister is frustrating. There, I’ve said it. I love her books, and I call her frustrating for two reasons: she doesn’t travel (so I haven’t gotten to meet her), and she spells her last name with one ‘l’ so I have a harder time than usual looking her up on Amazon. Those are my only two issues with Katie MacAlister.

I haven’t read everything she’s ever written, but darn near. The Aisling Gray series is my favorite. Aisling has a life as complicated as my Sookie’s, and she gets a lot more sex. The Aisling Gray books are about a young woman who starts out as a courier – if I’m remembering the first book correctly – and ends up discovering her true magical nature on a trip to the continent. She also becomes the mate of a dragon, the head of the Wyvern sept. But the course of true love certainly doesn’t run smooth for Aisling, and she and Drake have issues as deep as the ocean is wide. In the third installment of the series, LIGHT MY FIRE, a few of these issues are resolved, but new ones arise . . . of course.

MacAlister’s charm pervades the book. Aisling makes mistakes, blunders into terrible situations, and raises havoc with the best of intentions and motivations. She is brave, good, and loving, but she’s also something of a Calamity Jane. By the end of the first three books she’s acquired a position in the demon world in addition to an actual demon, she’s got a guardian cab driver, and she is probably going to be the next ruler of Europe’s underground magical kingdom. Plus, she might be pregnant.

If you haven’t tried anything of MacAlister’s, go to your local bookstore and start anywhere. She’s fun, she’s entertaining, and she’s a good writer. You really can’t go wrong.

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I’ve been thinking about gifts lately. I never expect presents from people – and I’m being honest about this – but readers are kind enough to give me small things when I’m on the road. Most readers are practical enough to select things I can pack, things that won’t melt (!), things that mean something to that reader. If I were a very disciplined woman, I’d get the name and address of every single gift-giver and writer him/her a personal thank-you note. But I’m not sharp enough to do that. The moment seems to pass so quickly, and there I am, the recipient of a present for which I have only offered a verbal thanks.

I didn’t feel that guilty until Romantic Times. The group of Charlatans that attended that convention gave me some fun and wonderful things, from rubber ducks to a beautiful pendant to a framed picture to a notepad to . . . well, you get the idea. And I never wrote a single note. In San Francisco a reader gave me a model cable car filled with chocolate. I’ve received a wonderful picture of me and MaryJanice Davidson laughing together, and the original drawing for the Charlatans logo. One young man in Richmond brought me the most wonderful little piece of artwork he’d gotten in England. Handmade bud vases, bookmarks . . . the list goes on and on.

This is the big Thank You, people. I’ll try to do better about individual thanks, but I just wanted you all to know that these are not things I toss aside, but things I keep and treasure.

After Romantic Times I had another standard to live up to. MaryJanice, that most entertaining writer, has a great relationship with her devoted readers. She gives THEM presents. I am completely put in the shade by MJD’s generosity and graciousness. I don’t think I’ll ever measure up.

Let me just add this further footnote; I think the presence of readers at a signing is a gift in and of itself. That’s a present I don’t have to find room for in my luggage.

Thanks, all of you, for that gift. And for those who can’t come to the signings, thanks for buying my books. For those who email, I appreciate the fact that you took the time to tell me you enjoy my writing. It means a lot to me, and gives a boost to my spirits.

Charlaine Harris