In preparation for the release of Sucker Punch in August, I recently completed a reread of the entire Anita Blake series. Every time I do this, I find myself wondering about different questions and I pepper my friends who are also fans with questions AND go on rants about primarily Richard but some of the others as well. There are books i seem to fly through and others where I slog through. Each time those books change, so I am not going to say which ones read slow or fast. So, here for your consumption is a list of things (passages) that spoke to me this read through not necessarily in order so you will have to search to find them: The practicalities of life do not cease needing to be done just because other things are going wrong. Love’s hard to come by, Edward; you should never throw it away just because it’s a bad idea. Either choice was a bad one. Multiple choice should have at least one right answer, but some people only come with wrong answers. Some people are like rigged tests where you can only fail. It can always get worse. The love of a lover, of friends, and of partners, of people that I never wanted to lose, and damn day. It was about home. Home wasn’t a place, or a building, or a tropical night full of flowers and rain. Love made home not out of boards and walls and furniture, but of hands to hold, and smiles to share, and the warmth of that body cuddled around you in the dark. comforting hands, our bodies that had made us all home, and the craziness of having too many people, too much going on, but what would we give up, who would we give up, and the answer, in the end, was not a single thing. Love is never about the object of our love, but always says more about us than them. no one knows you as honestly, warts and all, as the people who love you, truly love you.’ ‘True love means you love the real person, not an ideal that you have in your head and superimpose over them. I’d grown to understand that love, real love, is full of choices that make no sense, that should go horribly wrong, but you make the choice anyway. Why? Because love is different. I opened my mouth, closed it, and then shook my head. There was as sure where “here” was anymore. Because I had had a nasty shock and was all emotionally vulnerable; that usually made me want to either run for the hills or get angry and stay angry. You can experience trauma without getting stuck as the victim forever. You can choose to work the shit and rebuild yourself, or you can sit in the ruins and mourn forever. Sometimes there isn’t enough therapy in the world to fix a person, and that’s when you have to find another cure. There are so few true villains, just other screwed-up people who pass the damage on. The elderly will also begin to decline faster if they don’t have anyone to touch them. Patting someone’s hand, or shoulder, a hug, all of it is necessary to be happy and healthy for most people. It doesn’t have to have anything to do with sex; in fact, most of the touch that keeps us all going is as innocent as a newborn lamb frolicking on the spring grass, the thought of how close I must have come to losing the man in my arms scared me more than anything else. Sex was not a fate worse than death, because with life there was always hope. Hope that the big breakup wasn’t permanent. Hope that the issues that drove you apart might bring you back together again. Hope that you’d see their smile again, even if they were with someone else. Only death was final, and without hope; short of that, there were options. There’s a lot of ways to be smart; the kind that gets you straight A’s in school is only one way. It was like someone who is so used to being made fun of that they say the mean things first, try to make it their joke, so the bullies don’t get a chance to cut them up. It works, in a way, but it means the person saying the words internalizes the message more, because they’re the ones saying stupid, clumsy, fat, ugly —whatever the bullies might say. being in love makes people beautiful, and falling out of love makes you see the truth. It may set you free, but it’s going to fuck you up before it does. It was like someone who is so used to being made fun of that they say the mean things first, try to make it their joke, so the bullies don’t get a chance to cut them up. It works, in a way, but it means the person saying the words internalizes the message more, because they’re the ones saying stupid, clumsy, fat, ugly —whatever the bullies might say. being in love makes people beautiful, and falling out of love makes you see the truth. It may set you free, but it’s going to fuck you up before it does. love could be a cup that you both filled up with love, kindness, joy, sex, all the things that made you a couple, but if you could fill the cup up, you could also drain it dry with cruelty, sorrow, pain, jealousy, and anger. “Sorry, Damian, but it doesn’t make sense to me when I do it either. If something makes you happy you should just enjoy it and embrace it, but I’ve got a whole list of things that make me happy and I fought like hell not to enjoy them, not to want them, not to do them, because they didn’t match who I thought I was, or who I thought I should be.” Just tell me what she’s done, Anita. That should be awful enough to help us appreciate whatever happiness we can find. we must trust each other, for we are built link by link into a chain that is stronger together than as a pile of individual links. Your first lover gets a piece of your heart until you have enough therapy to take it back. But one thing I’d learned in therapy was that just because a feeling made no sense didn’t make you stop feeling it. “As much as I’d prefer the world to be black and white, yes or no, right or wrong, Nicky’s right: Sometimes you can be both,” Fear will bind you closer than love, or hate, and it works a hell of a lot quicker. So many traumatic events and your time sense screws up. Too much happening in too short a space of time. The trick would be to decide whom to be grumpy at, and what to do about it. I had been running on fear, adrenaline, and stubbornness for hours. In the quiet hush of the car I could feel my body. It was not happy. The hour after dawn is the most private of all. You’d think I’d get used to not knowing what the hell is going on, but I never do. It just makes me grumpy, and a little scared. If you keep the gun in your purse, you get killed, because no woman can find anything in her purse in under twelve minutes. It is a rule. Most people choose to think of themselves as white hats, good guys. A few people wear black hats and enjoy it. Grey was Bert’s color. Sometimes I think if you cut him, he’d bleed green, fresh-minted money. There was something a little frightening about a man who knew he was not a nice person and didn’t give a damn. It went against everything America holds dear. We are taught above all else to be nice, to be liked, to be popular. A person who has set aside all that is a maverick and a potentially dangerous human being. It takes real breeding to make a person feel like shit with one word. When in doubt, change your vocabulary. There was something a little frightening about a man who knew he was not a nice person and didn’t give a damn. It went against everything America holds dear. We are taught above all else to be nice, to be liked, to be popular. A person who has set aside all that is a maverick and a potentially dangerous human being. there are days when I think you can’t save anyone. When in doubt, take a deep breath and keep moving. Murphy’s law is the only true dependable in my life most of the time. I was the closest thing Edward had to a real friend. A person who knows who and what you are and likes you anyway. I did like him, despite or because of what he was. He had bet his life on my integrity, and that pissed me off. I hate to be used. My virtue had become its own punishment. Remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. We had saved each other’s lives; it is a bond that sticks with you. Most hatred is based on fear, one way or another. Yeah. I wrapped myself in anger, with a dash of hate, and at the bottom of it all was an icy center of pure terror. A zillion brownie points for me. Women may get to wear lots of pretty colors, but men get the comfortable shoes. You never really filled in the hole. It was like a piece of you gone goes away. You deal with it. You go on, but it’s there. Only inhibitors in the brain prevent us all from destroying ourselves. No one had ever attacked me at home before, not like this. It should have been against the rules. You should be safe in your own bed. She had broken a rule. One I hadn’t even known I had. Thou shalt not attack the good guy in his, or her, own home. Coffee was my comfort drink. But I’ve been stared at by experts, so I was careful not to flinch. Sarcasm is one of my natural talents. Freud is so often at work in our lives. Hope is a lying bitch. It felt wet, like it had soaked through to the skin, but it hadn’t. It was a sensory illusion. People are seldom just one thing. There are fires that last for all eternity. Fires that make napalm look like a temporary inconvenience. I notice all sorts of things that go unnoticed during most of life. I could taste my calm, orderly pulse in my mouth like a piece of candy. For tension release laughter beats the hell out of tears. I had the urge to giggle, but that was the pain medication. I never giggle on my own. some drugs don’t give a shit if you need your body. You belong to the drug until it wears off, period. staying alive was the goal. Everything else was gravy. Best friends, a concept that most women never outgrow. If I ever managed to get married and my husband cheated on me, it wouldn’t be me to go missing. If you’re not ashamed, you don’t need to look away. hysteria gets you nowhere but dead. Worry about the things you can control; the rest will either work themselves out, or they’ll kill you. Either way, no more worries. you can be embarrassed or you can be aggressive. Truth, justice, and the American way certainly didn’t work within the legal system. Money, power, and luck were what worked. Anita. No matter what you do or how bad you feel about it, life just goes on. Life doesn’t give a fuck that you’re sorry or upset or deranged or tormented. Life just goes on, and you gotta go on with it, or sit in the middle of the road and feel sorry for yourself. I never doubted God. I doubted me. But maybe God was a more generous God than I allowed him to be. I felt that measure of calm that I sometimes got when I prayed. It doesn’t mean you’ll get what you asked for, but it does mean that someone is listening. If you can’t impress yourself, then no one else really matters. Why is it when you have a sure thing to bet on, there’s never anyone around to take your money? it used to bother me that I could be in such confusion, such pain, and the world just didn’t give a shit. The world, the creation as a whole, is designed to move forward, to keep on keeping on without any one individual person. It feels damned impersonal, and it is. But, then, if the world stopped rotating just because one of us was having a bad day, we’d all be floating out in space. I’d learned long ago that if you’re feeling unloved by the man in your life, the best revenge is to look good “The heart wants what the heart wants, Dolph. You don’t plan on making your life complicated, it just happens, and you don’t do it on purpose, and you don’t do it to hurt the people who love you. It just turns out that way sometimes.” I thought of several smart alec remarks, but you should humor crazy people when you’re at their mercy; it’s a rule. You can’t shovel other people’s shit for them, not unless they’re willing to pick up a shovel and help. There’s only so much emotional super glue in a person’s soul, after that everything just stays broken. It was a little like being in shock. Shock is nature’s insulation, the thing that shuts you down so you can heal, or sometimes so you can die without hurting, or being afraid. I guess you can’t undo all your upbringing, no matter how hard you try. sometimes guilt or habit makes you listen to those other voices—the ones that beat you down. Sometimes you just can’t shake them. “You ate the living darkness, Anita. It has given your own necromancy a power jump of near-legendary proportions. You raised every cemetery and lone body in and around the city of Boulder, Colorado last year, while you chased down the spirit of the Lover of Death, one of the last members of the now-disbanded vampire council who did not bend knee to Jean-Claude’s rebellion.” “You say rebellion. I say killing crazy motherfuckers to save the world from their plans to spread vampirism and contagious zombie plague across the planet.” “It would have been an apocalypse for the human race.” “But not the apocalypse.” “You mean the biblical one?” he asked. “Yeah, as in the apocalypse.” “You say that as if there is only one.” “There is only one.” “You have prevented two on your own. We have prevented more events that would have destroyed the planet, or at least the human population. Some of us lived through the last great extinction and the coming of the great winter.” “You mean the Ice Age, as in the real Ice Age.” He nodded. I took in a deep breath, let it out slow, and said, “Okay, some of you guys are old as fuck. Make your point.” “My point, Anita, is that apocalypse as in the great devastation or second coming of some religious significance has happened before and will likely happen again.” “I’m not sure we’re defining it the same way,” I said. “Perhaps not, but there really does need to be a plural for apocalypse .” A few years back I’d have argued until either we had a fight or the cows came home, but therapy had helped me realize that I could just let some things go. Real love is about consistency over time, battles won, battles lost, the pain, the pleasure, the sharing. Strength shared is strength multiplied. She just looked happy, and nothing makes someone as beautiful as happiness and being in love. No makeup or youth serum can come close to that beauty secret. Who wanted to be around a constant stream of negativity? I knew he would shield me with his own body, and the strength that would have scared me under other circumstances now became the ultimate comfort. I knew that all that energy and strength was now aimed at keeping me safe. The difference between prince and beast is often just a matter of how a man uses his strength and rage. Aimed well, it is a shelter that you can hide behind no matter how great the storm. Turned against you, it makes shelter into a trap.
Sometimes you need to embrace the suck and just go along for the ride, but sometimes you need to tell whoever is making your life suck to stop being a dick and do better. Tyburn was now on my you-almost-killed-me-so-do-better-or-let-me-drive list Part of wisdom is being honest with yourself,
Ok, so I feel the need to speak up. I don’t know whether or not what I am seeing on facebook is a collaboration between google Microsoft apple and facebook. I don’t know if I am only seeing the posts of people in my sphere ir not, and none of us ever thought about what would happen in the last 20-30 years. When Disney started a TV channel of was controversial too. I don’t know that we need to be fermenting dissent. And none of us ever thought that the Internet was anything but a geekdom. So, this is what happens. Instead of lamenting our unintended consequences why don’t we look ar how far we have come since the 1940s. I choose to believe in people, in g-d and the fact that no matter what we will be ok. Maybe I am wrong. My world has personally been shattered twice by the pivotal losses of the two men of my life. Dad 32 days before the big wedding we’d been arguing over every tiny detail of for 18 months. And Jerome 10 years ago. I guess I didn’t learn enough from the first loss. But I firmly believe in the soul and G-d and that we will all see each other again. But I believe Jerome and my dad are with my girls because that’s where their heart is. And yes I may be more Anita blake then Belle but oh, the beasts library. Why are their laptops we can carry in our pockets? Because we were tired of carrying our full towers to gaming tournamwbts. None of us thought about how we would get to our future bit just put it… Someday after most everyone dies. But I want to be the heroine of my story. Full stop. And somehow I ended up in a place where I am a stereotype… Why? Because I am a book nerd. I read the originals and all the new copies so I know how bad things can get. But they also have come so far… So, if my friends who are freaking out will breathe for a minute the oxygen will calm you down. That’s the way your brain works and as we go farther and farther with cars that can drive themselves and complete access almost instantly to authors, actors, everything. Read the in death series by Nora Roberts as JD ROBB. We will get there , maybe. Or jt ellison and know true fear. Fear of secrets, fear of natural disasters which can shatter you by taking those you love. Or just of being completely consumed. Why? Because throughout history we have had to revisit our fears. And this is life. Complicated… Messy and oh so amazing. So when your car tells you you aren’t paying attention that’s because reading in cars gives you headaches, so there are audiobooks. That explains it. And we bitch if its not exactly like the voice in our head. And seat belts and airbags… Shoot look at car seats. Why? Because we are worried about our kids- either because of evolution or something else. But does it really matter? Look around and ask yourself if its better now then it was. If not, do your best to fix it. Stand up to those who are evil because all it takes for the villain to win is good people to do nothing. But I read them all. Which led to a whole new category of writing. With people like me as authors. So keep speaking up and celebrate the happy that much harder for all the sorrow along the way… And those are the books that take me away. I love that Seanan McGuire writes books with Shakespeare quotes as titles. And, that is just too cool! And then there are the others and somehow my worlds of tech and science crossed with my geekiness my need to understand and brought me here to this weird intersection of space and time where I just have to say. We are better off, but I agree with all my authors that we have to speak up. It won’t be anyone’s cup of tea, but ok. I want nothing to do with 50 shades of grey… But my fantasy books… Now, you can pry those out of my cold dead hands. But every bad cloud has a sun behind it. It will pass. And you hold onto the good that much harder. Why? because it is tempered by steel. We had to so we did. And now we are doctors and lawyers and lawyers and its progress. Yes we have a way to go, but all of it it progress…
This excerpt from the book I am currently reading made me think of all my shifter series books, but most especially Anita Blake. When I read this my first thought was Anita needs this and then I realized that most of the shifter packs could use it to cement their bonds…
“As I pulled my eyes from the view, I finally noticed the bed. Oh my. A rush of heat flushed out my cheeks, but I seriously didn’t even care. The bed was massive,ike the size of three king sized beds all pushed together, and twice as long. Jessa rushed to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “This is where we sleep when we pack bond. This is what strengthens our love and ties. This is where we cry and heal and support one another.” I was blinking, unable to take my eyes off the lush mountain of blankets and pillows. Suddenly I felt exhausted. I wanted nothing more than to crawl in the middle there, burrow myself beneath the warmth, and stare out into the forest. Without warning, supes around me started to undress. Not all the way, but shoes and jackets were being thrown to the side. I was guessing there was other furniture in this room, things I hadn’t noticed and didn’t care about right now. Right now was all about this moment with my pack.” Jaymin Eve Broken Compass
“She’d called him a coward, running away whenever she pulled him toward something he didn’t like. It was not so much cowardice as ego, and not even so much protecting his ego as safeguarding the supports that kept it intact. Success bolstered his ego. Doing what he was good at and avoiding failure in every possible way. He’d first realized that in high school, when he’d dropped out of geometry, not because he disliked it but because he wasn’t good at it. Algebra came easily. Calculus was also fine. But there was something about geometry that he could not wrap his mind around. So he dropped the course. The moment he discovered he did not have the knack for something, he stopped trying to do it. Empathy, friendship, dating, relationships in general. He embraced a challenge only if he knew he could succeed. The hard truth of the matter was that Gabriel was spoiled. He got what he wanted, and did not want what he could not get. “ Kelley Armstrong Rituals
I am thoroughly enjoying my quest through Cainsville this time around. It never ceases to amaze me that every time I read one of my favorite authors my mind finds little parts of the story to delight over. The plot of each novel, for the most part remains the plot. There are a few slight deviations from that rule where knowing the plot in its entirety changes the substance of the story. This happens with Christine Feehan’s Carpathian series, when the overarching hatred between mages and the Carpathians leads to the discovery that their lack of fertility comes from an evil wizard’s working of a spell. It definitely happens in Patricia Cornwell’s Kay Scarpetta series. I think it is beginning to happen in the Anita Blake Series as we see more challenging foes as well as more powerful allies.
Sometimes, I find myself amazed though how much knowing one of the larger series in paranormal romance leads to the calm acceptance (to some extent) of fantastical creatures from myth and lore. One of the things I have greatly enjoyed in the Cainsville series is the interweaving of some pretty obscure Celtic imagery, characters and lore. Would the imagery of the Wild Hunt as a biker gang be so easily accepted had it not sort of appeared that way in the Dresden files? And now, Kelley Armstrong has introduced the slaugh which plays a large role in Laurell K Hamilton’s Meredith gentry Series. This Slaugh is a very different incarnation from the one in Merry Gentry’s world, but the idea itself is more easily accepted since it plays such a large role in Merry’s world.
I guess that the point of this general ramble is that everything is connected and , no I am not going into deep philosophical questions of identity or politics. I am just remarking upon the fact that so many have before–everything is possible and yet nothing can ever truly be new. And now I go back to Cainsville a little bit sad because I know the end is near but a little bit happy to as I never know quite what to expect until a story actually reaches its end.
Rituals
Kelley Armstrong
Fiction
Random House Canada
August 15, 2017
496
The fifth book and the exciting conclusion to bestselling author Kelley Armstrong's "impossible-to-put-down" Cainsville series, in which she mixes hard-hitting crime writing with phenomenal world-building to create a brand of fiction all her own. When Olivia Taylor-Jones found out she was not actually the adopted child of a privileged Chicago family but of a notorious pair of convicted serial killers, her life exploded. Running from the fall-out, she found a refuge in the secluded but oddly welcoming town of Cainsville, Illinois, but she couldn't resist trying to dig out the truth about her birth parents' crimes. She began working with Gabriel Walsh, a fiendishly successful criminal lawyer who also had links to the town; their investigation soon revealed Celtic mysteries at work in Cainsville, and also entangled Olivia in a tense love triangle with the calculating Gabriel and her charming biker boyfriend, Ricky. Worse, troubling visions revealed to Olivia that the three of them were reenacting an ancient drama pitting the elders of Cainsville against the mysterious Huntsmen with Olivia as the prize. In the series' fifth and final novel, not only does Gabriel's drug addict mother, who he thought was dead, make a surprise reappearance, but Kelley Armstrong delivers a final scary and surprising knock-out twist. It turns out a third supernatural force has been at work all along, a dark and malevolent entity that has had its eye on Olivia since she was a baby and wants to win at any cost.
My husband’s family is an armed forces family. His father was a marine and his mother in the army. They met in the Armed Services band and as the lore goes, that was that. My husband was in Air Force ROTC and got a scholarship to college and wanted to be a pilot. He got derailed by Calculus Four, but that is another story entirely… His little brother and sister were also in ROTC in high school, but chose different paths for their lives.
The first time I ever traveled with my children through an airport, I taught them that the men and women in armed services uniforms were special and that they fought for our country and deserved our gratitude–then I cringed as my two year old ran up to the marine, pulled on his dress uniform with sticky hands and then said “Thank You for saving my mommy” to say he was surprised was an understatement. After many apologies and smiles, we parted ways and I taught both my daughters that the correct phrase was “thank you for your service.” And to this day I feel a sense of pride each time they politely thank the men and women in the armed services. ( and now cringe as they are pretty close in age to the youngest recruits at 14 and 15, and they get a little more attention than I’m necessarily comfortable with)
That being said, I am a fan of many writers who write detective stories and police procedurals. And every time I hear about a police officer losing his or her life I cringe. I have a few friends who ended up as police officers and I always call them when I have any issue that regards the police so I know how to best proceed.
Police officers and fire fighters come into our lives at the worst moments- either we are victims of crime or in the process of committing one. But regardless, they run towards danger and do it every day all day. So why didn’t I teach my daughters to thank them for their service? Why did I teach my daughters that if they are ever pulled over to go to a public well lighted place before stopping? Honestly, most police officers are a suspicious bunch and if you approach them out of the blue, even to thank them for their service to thee community, I’ve found them to be a little wary about it. I try to always nod at them and say thank you when I see them out and about and will redouble my efforts going forward.
So, I’m not sure exactly what my point was when I started other than that police officers and fire fighters don’t get nearly enough appreciation from the communities they serve. Instead we point at the few bad apples and teach our children to be careful and that a uniform doesn’t necessarily mean a hero.
That being said, please give what you can to this fallen officers family and if you happen to see a police officer or fire fighter in the next few days thank them for their service. And send positive thoughts and prayers to ALL the heroes in our communities.
I look forward to discussing all of this with fellow fans at my site bestbooklover.net and at the Facebook page at https://www.facebook.com/BestBooklovernet-336745780072074/
If you want to help support this website, donations are accepted at paypal.me/Bestbooklover/
1) What I am reading greatly affects my overall mood, mental health, and physical health. I was reading a book I didn’t care very much for, Sherrilyn Kenyon’s Deadmen Walking. I expected to love it, but it just wasn’t doing it for me. I was angry and irritable and it was taking me forever to get through the book. That led me to watching hours of bad crime television on YouTube.
2) Something big and bad is happening in the publishing industry-especially for paranormal authors. I’ve been shocked by the news that Laurell K Hamilton won’t be releasing a book this year. While I fully support her decision to take time to recharge and get to know her new editor, I’m hearing a lot of rumblings. A lot of readers expressed unhappiness with Crimson Death, the last Anita Blake book by Laurell K. Hamilton and I am putting that onus on the publishers and the editor they assigned to her. I am hoping that their relationship will improve or that someone will add in anther person in the process who knows Laurell K. Hamilton’s books backward, forward and upside down (other then her significant others) and can discuss whatever Laurell K. Hamilton needs or somehow help the editor get their Laurell K. Hamilton knowledge up to snuff.
3) We have to support our authors. If authors as important and big time as Laurell K. Hamilton are having trouble what about all our other authors. I need my books. They are my coping mechanism and they keep me away from my head exploding from our daily world news.
My next novel will be out June of 2018. I’ve been posting about the process of writing it, and a lot of you are asking what am I working on? Is it an Anita Blake novel, or a Merry Gentry one? Or something new? The answer to your question is in the picture we’ve just posted, or at least clues to the answer are there. The picture will tell you what series, some of the characters featured, and even some of the important plot points. There’s even a clue in this message. All you have to do is decipher the clues and you’ll have your answer. You’ll get your biggest hint next week, which will end some of the speculation, but not all of it. Shall we play a game?
Time to cry over CtD some more! It’s funny this is one of those books I don’t reread all that much (unlike htm which I can nearly recite by heart) so I’ve forgotten how really really good it is. I’m just enjoying it so much:
-chapter 24 – where do I start with this one? Rosier siccing the rakshasas on his kid and then wondering why he’s a great father, ummmm, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?? Pritkin, once again trying to sacrifice himself for Cassie, that boy has a complex (side note: I love how KC follows through on things – she makes it very clear that Pritkin has something of a saviour complex, where Cassie is concerned anyway and it ultimately gets him killed. His sacrifice in HtM was actually super predictable and we really ought to have seen something like it coming. I mean, “It was the only reasonable course of action,” FOR REAL, who says that after almost getting themselves killed??). Plus, we have sudden, out of nowhere Casskin making out, which is essentially what I live for. Like most of the body swap stuff it’s simultaneously weird and sexy. Cassie is essentially getting to see the effect she normally has on Pritkin, and well, it’s hot. The ley line car chase is KC’s usual brand of breakneck pace, humour and adrenaline. I love how even Pritkin is freaked out by the whole thing.
– chapter 25 – I’m gonna have a stroke, there’s so much going on here. Marsden’s dog trying to attack Mircea. Mircea hugging Pritkin-in-Cassie’s-body. Cassie-in-Pritkin’s-body accidentally swearing at Mircea and pissing him off. Mircea pulling Pritkin-in-Cassie’s-body out of the room, presumably for some relieved reunion cuddles and from the sounds of things, gets slapped or kneed in the nuts or sth. Marlowe, dressed up and ready to party, wandering around offering everyone booze. Cassie talking shit in front of everyone: “What? You like wearing a bra?” Serious note – hasn’t Saunders turned up early? Cassie’s been saying all day that her meeting with Saunders is ‘tomorrow’ but this is still today right?? I’m confused. Less serious note – Marlowe trying to provoke Pritkin is one of the many many joys in these books, they should wrestle it out again. There could be some kind of oil involved … Uh, moving on. “Renegotiate this!” Epically silly line, 10/10, would put in trailer for movie adaptation which is sadly never gonna happen. Mircea kissing Cassie-in-Pritkin’s-body – either he’s very relieved that Cassie’s okay or he’s always secretly wanted to make out with Pritkin a little bit. I mean, who hasn’t?
So, Fist I have to say thank you to @windsurfingthroughhell for posting these awesome summaries on the reread. I suck at writing summaries. I discovered this when I tried to do a timeline for the Anita Blake series cause I kept getting confused. The software i used https://www.tiki-toki.com/ is amazingly awesome, But the free account only allows a certain number of entries. And by the time I got to the 4 or 5 Anita Blake books, I had hit the max. Which was totally insane. And those of you who saw my attempts for the Cassandra Palmer series, know I get lost in all the stuff.
I am hoping someone will make a Cassandra Palmer timeline for us all to share at https://www.tiki-toki.com/ since I already used my freebie, and that thing took weeks of work, so I don’t care if its incomplete, I ain’t deleting it.
SO, my original point is that I keep responding to these posts, cause it keeps me from dancing merrily along to my tangential brains music…So, I am not arguing points or tearing anyone down, OK? Just adding my two cents, and if I get a little vehement, it’s only because all of these characters mean something to me, even FRED for god’s sake…
From the beginning, Rossier confuses the shit out of me. So, the fact that Rossier, who hates Artemis and Cassie with a vehemence, is the vehicle through which Apollo is taken down is just Fucking Priceless. I think the fact that Rossier has antipathy towards Cassie and always jumps to “let’s kill her” is odd. I mean, theoretically he has been waiting all these years for SOMEONE to break through Pritkin’s self hatred and walls. But from the moment Cassie shows up, well its weird. It keeps getting weirder.
These chapters are my favorite part. We see so much stuff. It hard to even begin listing it or really digest it. I love Cassie, and its hysterical to see the vampires out of their element, the mages out of theirs and god so much more. I mean, theoretically they are all supposed to be working together but no one knows anyone else’s plan, they don’t even know who is who!
And seeing Kit Marlowe, spy extraordinaire still fucking lost-it just makes me giggle. I mean they are fighting gods, with Cleopatra and Jack the Ripper and all Marlowe can do is hand out drinks. He’s the stewardess on this flight to Ragnorak…And he keeps hitting his goddamned head, which is so fucking unfair. And he knows something is up with Pritkin, cause he isn’t responding right, but in his defense who’s first thought would be “That must be the pythia’s soul in the war mages body because of a chaos loving buddhist type god”? (Since we are on a reread, I will also say that I love it when Cassie and Mircea end up arguing in Marlowe’s office later, and he’s all “there is a god and he loves me”) As a second aside, does anyone else want to know how Marlowe’s ties to the witches just up and disappeared?
And then you add in the triple D’s and Apollo and running up how many goddamned floors with Prtikin in a dress?
And yeah I REALLY want Karen to write the Pritkin Pov of what happens in that bedroom between Cassie’s body, Pritkin’s Soul, and Mircea! Damnit, maybe there will be another event or opportunity to bring that up at some point when Karen has contracts for more books, and is looking for an idea…Sigh, who am I kidding? I don’t have the money to buy a swag bag, let alone…oh well, I digress
And when Mircea kisses Cassie in Pritkin, just WOW. I mean I know sexuality is probably mutable but still, to love someone’s soul so much that it transcends the physical…sigh again!
Anyways, I could go on forever, but who wants to read that? SO, thank you for giving me talking points and tell me where I’m wrong. I keep trying to do reread posts, but I read too fast and even though I am rereading the same stuff, each time i get a little bit different stuff.
Curse the Dawn
Karen Chance
Fiction
Penguin UK
April 2, 2009
400
Cassie Palmer, the world's chief clairvoyant, just can't seem to stay away from trouble. After trying to come to an agreement with the Silver Circle - the magical organisation that's been trying to kill her for years - she finds herself kidnapped by one of its members and swept away in the ley line system, a series of magical currents that occupies the space between worlds. Cassie manages to escape but, fearing for her safety, she decides to invest in a magical device for protection. However, all she can afford is a statue that grants wishes ...But what Cassie doesn't realize is that the statue doesn't always grant wishes the way the wisher would like. And when she wishes for the strength to shift herself and companion Pritkin away from a dangerous fight, the statue grants the wish by switching her into Pritkin's body and him into hers. And that's when the real trouble starts ...