There was this one little scene in The War of the Worlds that I read last night that got me going like nothing has got me going in quite a long time! I was sitting in bed with my electric blanket on setting three, and two pillows behind my head. I was reading the scene in which one of the Martians is alerted to the fugitives' prescence in the ruined house, and the main character (who as yet, strangely enough, I don't know the name of), is hiding and listening to its tentacle coming closer and closer, tapping along the walls. Oh! It was the moment when I suddenly and electrically became connected to what I was reading. It was quite incredible how my heart rate just took off at a gallop, and it took a long time afterwards for it is settle down to a calm trot. It was great, though, to enjoy a little thrilling experience like that. I think reading Frankenstein, which I failed to become egrossed in, has left me with a tender craving for intrigue and suspense. I've wanted to really get into it and be egged on hour after hour by the sheer exhilaration of promise and dread. It's always wonderful when a book can offer such a thing.