|Laurell K. Hamilton: Cerulean Sins|
(Hardcover), ISBN: 0425188361
Once more Anita Blake, intrepid vampire hunter, necromancer and woman voted most likely to win Nymphomaniac of the Year, faces death, danger, and the chance she'll have to go without sex for more than six hours. You see, Jean Claude's original maker wants to put the moves on the tasty vamp's territory, something Anita, of course, won't allow. Not to mention being followed by international terrorists who may or may not want to kidnap her, trying to help track down a rogue werewolf raping and mutilating women and a very serious feud with what used to be one of her closest cop friends.
Before the party ends Anita will need to face some hard truths regarding the ever-increasing power she seems to be acquiring. How much longer before she becomes one of the monsters she used to so assiduously hunt? Can Anita assuage her ardeur enough to take care of business? Will she ever mend the rift with Richard so the Triumvirate can show a united front to Belle Morte? Can she save her friendship with Dolph and still fool around with the aforementioned tasty monsters? And last, but certainly not least, do we even care any more?
I wish I could say "yes," but, in my humble opinion -- and I'm sure the rabid Anita fans out there will vehemently disagree with me -- what used to be one of my favorite butt-kicking-chicks just ain't got that ol' zip any more. Unlike the first four or five Anita Blake books, I quickly became bored with Cerulean Sins' endless descriptions of each character's clothing, along with ad nauseum scenes of Anita getting it on with an endless stream of sexier-than-thou vamps and lycanthropes.
I couldn't make up my mind which aspect I disliked more -- reading just how sexy Anita and company looked every few pages or reading yet another round of the horizontal mambo in equally as few pages. I like sex as much as the next woman but after awhile my attitude got to be, "Not again!" And don't even get me started on my opinion of Anita's decaying relationships with normal, human people. That way lies madness and besides, my senior editor doesn't allow 100,000 word reviews.
Do yourself a favor. If you must read this book, wait till it comes out in paperback. That way if you, like me, feel the urge to hurl it across the room as a once great character sinks to an all-time new low, you won't put a dent in your wall like I did.
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