Dark, strong, lovely scented, warm, sweet, mysterious and forbidden. My mother made me vow I’d never get near it before I turned 16. But she told me the same about her books under the intention of making them seem attractive. It worked like magic. Once I had the knowledge of its existence, I knew nothing but the fact I had to experiment it. Except that I didn’t promised I wasn’t getting close books. Neither had I guaranteed I wouldn’t have my ways around that Italian guitar guy, alright? So, I had already read The Catcher in The Rye and Ham on Rye back and forth several times, lost my virginity, when I was allowed to drink coffee and it was love at the first sip.