Damn, I love these books because they’re short and easy! In this installment (side note: I hate this title) Sookie and her boyfriend get lent to the Dallas vamps to help solve a missing vampire mystery. There, Sookie learns that shapeshifters are more prevalent than she previously thought, that werewolves do exist and they are assholes, and that you can’t trust people just because a vamp says so. She is supposed to just interrogate the humans at the last place the vamp was seen, but ends up having to go undercover into a religious super-anti-vampire cult and gets captured and all sorts of shit. Meeting Bill (her dead boyfriend) was basically the worst thing to ever happen to her. She thinks otherwise, of course, because with him she finally gets to relax because she can’t read his mind and blah blah blah they have a lot of sex, but seriously—because of him her grandmother is dead and she’s been beaten up every 10 pages by both “normal” people and the supernatural. And she is entirely too unfazed by this for my liking.
And yet, I’m still reading the books. It’s almost as if I like making myself irritated.
Oh and also the author is trying to create some romantic tension between Sookie, Bill, and Eric, Bill’s vampire boss/elder/basically he can tell him what to do. On several occasions Sookie has needed to take Eric’s blood, so now they are emotionally connected, and seeing as how Bill is a chauvinistic jealous brat things get all stupid and tensiony and crap. But, as with the other book, when the action is going on (car chases, wild demon woman attacks in the woods) I can really get into it and enjoy it.
I can see myself reading maybe 3, 4 more of these before I Cromwell/Koontz this author for good.
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