I have what is admittedly a very odd habit. I read by the season.
I read a lot, so I tend to re-read favorite books, and part of that reading is by season.
Every January, I read Carla Neggers’ The Cabin. Winter in the Adirondack Mountains of northern New York suits my January mood.
February brings me to One More Valentine by Anne Stuart. Lovely little time travel featuring the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. (And I even persuaded Anne to autograph it two years ago when she was in town.)
March-April-May-June don’t really have memorable books to them. But July? Peter Mayle’s A Year in Provence is my mandatory summer reading. Some years, I will also re-read Toujours, Provence, but I don’t find it has the magic of Year. Wine, olives, warm weather . . . this is my bliss.
October is my next month to re-read a specific book. Ammie, Come Home by Barbara Michaels, has been a favorite of mine since it first came out. I’m on my second copy. What can be more chilling that a ghost story set in October, right before Halloween?
And finally, my December favorite: Silver Linings by Maggie Osborne. The Christmas scene in the book gets to me, every time I read it.