After finishing off the last-ever Davidson culinary mystery, I grabbed this James Patterson off my shelf:No. 22, 1st to Die, was a great read: quick, captivating, twisty. But then I got to the end. I won't spoil it, but I will say that yesterday held a lot of tears, with my sister saying goodbye to her beloved Max, and a co-worker also losing a fur baby. I curled up with a fire, a blanket, and my book, hoping for some relief from recent stress. That didn't happen. Ugh.