The book I am most anticipating this summer (cuz I'm that kind of girl) is Kraken, by China Miéville. Cuz, c'mon... KRAKEN!!! and by China Fucking Miéville! How monsterliciously cool is that?!
This was what they came for, that pinkly enormous thing. For all its immobility; the wounds of its slow-motion decay, the scabbing that clouded its solution; despite its eyes being shrivelled and lost; its sick colour; despite the twist in its skein of limbs, as if it were being wrung out. For all that, it was what they were there for.
It would hang, an absurdly massive tentacled sepia event. Architeuthis dux. The giant squid.
This is what I came for!
With any luck, I'll have a copy in time for my romantic-getaway fishing weekend, cuz really, how romantic is fishing? (I can't believe I'm doing this for you, J-F! but I tease! no, really, I can't wait!) And given the choice between a) sitting in a boat all day fishing and not catching any fish and b) sitting in a boat all day reading and not catching any fish — well, I think you know where my heart lies (yes, with you, my love, trapped in a boat). And if I could be trappedlazing in a boat all day (with you!) reading Kraken and being scared out of my pants that some, gasp, creature! may rise out of the deep and rock our idyll... well, that would be awesome.