I tend to judge Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum books by laughter level. In the eighteen of this series I am happy to say that only a very small number have been in the smirk category while the vast majority have sat firmly in the laugh out loud and chuckle section. Several have even made the "tears streaming down my face while I try to control myself" region.
I do much of my reading in bed last thing at night. The house is quiet, invariably the husband beside me is sleeping - it's where I get that special "me" time to savour the reading experience. I was fully immersed in Explosive Eighteeen a few nights ago - happily chuckling away through Chapter Seven when my husband rolls over and opens one bleary eye and says "Let me guess? ... it's that Peach chick again?". Plum, dear, Stephanie Plum! - long may she reign.