I always say that I'm a fast reader but not an especially careful one. I joke about it, say it's nice to leave a few surprises to discover on the reread of books I enjoy, and on the reread and reread and reread of books I really enjoy and which end up as my companions for days when I don't want the new, just the comfort of familiar characters, familiar worlds, familiar twists and turns, but the truth is that when I'm absorbed in a book I'm torn between being desperate to discover what happens and desperate for the story to just keep going.
I started reading A Game of Thrones last week. I borrowed it before
Christmas, opened it on Tuesday night to read a few pages before going
to sleep, and eventually went to sleep about 100 pages later. I finished the first book on Sunday and started the second yesterday. Sorry other books, I may be some time...