Yes, I Would Like A Sexy, Witty Druid with a Talking Wolfhound, Please

 If I ever got into the deity business, I’d want to be the lesser goddess of good timing and curating – like, your iPod would always be ready with the perfect song to score your life moments or I would sneak into your bedroom at night and if you left me bookmarks and/or teeth under your pillow, I’d deliver a book perfectly curated for your tastes.  I would also indirectly use my divine intervention  by guiding the Barnes and Nobles workers’ staff picks.  Alas, I am only mortal, but I do like to imagine there is some lesser pantheon with a god or goddess taking care of guiding my book selections.  And he or she is working through two staffers at my closest bookstore, because, Matt and Anna from Barnes and Noble in Upstate NY, you two most be my book soulmates.

I’m not sure which one of them highlighted the Iron Druid Chronicles as their staff pick of the week, but they had me at “druid”, and “talking wolfhound” and “sexy Irishman”.

Yeah, it’s the book equivalent of a popcorn movie, but whatever, you know stop what you are doing to watch National Treasure anytime they play it cable.

Atticus O’Sullivan moonlights as a New Ager out in the Arizona desert after living for over 2,000 years as the world’s last witty, sarcastic, sexy druid.  (It gets mentioned that he is ridiculously good looking every few paragraphs, but that’s okay, it totally helps with the…immersion…yeah, the immersion.)  He’s been on the lam from some of the Celtic pantheon for ages, hiding his slightly stolen magical sword.  Only now he’s finally been located and he has to find some way to destroy a god, not get dead and ask out the cute bartender, who just happens to have an ancient witch sharing her brain space.  There’s werewolves and vampires, a coven of witches, a wonderfully brash old Irish woman and a talking dog.  What more can you want?