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,
I have had the pleasure of getting an advanced reader copy of Fantastic Hope, the new paranormal anthology that was released on April 7, 2020. This arc was provided via Netgalley, the best place for reviewers and avid readers to get and review new books. This anthology is a great way to be introduced to a wide variety of authors and writing styles. You may just buy it for one author and find a whole new library to read during this uncertain time. With a wide variety of bestselling authors this anthology has a lot of bang for your buck. While I could go crazy with this book review and write pages upon pages and bury you in paper, time is at a premium. This anthology is a great way to get acquainted with a number of authors and their writing styles. You may buy it for the latest in one series and end up with a new series to read, to love, and maybe even obsess about. These authors each have unique backgrounds and those backgrounds inform each story with details that will delight readers, . Rather than going through each story and providing spoilers that might make longtime fans and new readers alike angry, I will cede this space to a part of the Foreword and the words of the editors. “It’s a place where the hero wins, the bad guy is punished, and the monsters are only real while you’re reading the story. You can close the covers and be safe. Unlike the real terrors of the world online and in the news lately…welcome to a collection of stories where you can find hope, happy endings, loyalty, freedom, love, all the positive things that make the best of us. Welcome to thrilling adventures and a modern take on two-fisted adventure stories…Have faith in yourself, in the people who love you, in magic, in religion, in Deity, in science, and in things harder to label with just one word. Believe that there will be smiles after the tears, joy after the pain, and that it will all work out, that good will triumph and evil will not win forever…You’re holding people’s dreams in your hands, dreams made real for you to read and share. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did.” Laurell K Hamilton “Laurell is a big proponent of people doing their therapy and working through their shit. We sat over lunch and talked about the depressing stories that seemed to be everywhere, in the news and in fiction, and lamented that there weren’t more uplifting stories… Laurell and I are both survivors and we know that the world is not all unicorns, rainbows, and glitter. but we also know that there is light at the end of the tunnel and that the darkness can be pushed back, even if it starts with a spark….I hope that in this book you find a story that speaks to you that reminds you that tomorrow is a new day with new opportunities.” William McCaskey Believe again. Dream again. Know that you have the power to do the impossible and conquer your demons. Start a new relationship with favorite authors and new voices. Start here.
I will start this off with a few caveats: I received an ARC of this book from Netgalley in return for this review AND I am a Kelley Armstrong fan. I have been a fan from the first time I was introduced to her in Bitten, and have followed her bodies of work avidly since then. One of the things I love about her body of work is that she has a vision. She stays true to that vision even when fans criticize her for it. Sometimes, the vision isn’t immediately apparent but it is always there. She also has a number of compelling stand alone novels that are unique and compelling. I have greatly enjoyed the Rockton series and I was one of those who read the first book in installments. The premise is unique and it seems like there are many ways for the story to advance over time. I didn’t see that at the beginning, but now I do. I have to say that once again Kelley Armstrong has delivered a compelling series with well rounded characters that will appeal to readers. These multifaceted characters defy classification as heroes or villains. It highlights the fact that everyone has both good and bad and must be evaluated on their own merits. This is especially true of the residents of Rockton, where everyone is running from something. I do not want to ruin any of the books by alluding to parts of the plot line that are spoilers for earlier books: so SPOILER ALERT (not for this book but for others in the Rockton series)! When the series started, we followed Casey Duncan and her best friend Diana on the journey to Rockton a town in the Yukon that isn’t on any map. It’s billed as a town for those who need to get away from something. You have to cut off contact with everyone in your old life. There will not be any contact once the decision to go is made. A generic open end message will tell friends and loved ones that you will be out of touch and then you disappear when you get on the helicopter. There can be no cellphones, no GPS, no email, not even an air-gapped computer. The town itself is camouflaged by the terrain. AND everything is controlled by the town; unless the council think it’s necessary you won’t be getting it. Once you arrive you must contribute to the workings of the town. Casey has a vital role as a homicide detective. Even that is different in Rockton–there are no forensic teams to call. Not having the internet to research forensics makes a large difference and there is no end to the challenges that Casey faces. And getting used to life with less electricity isn’t a walk in the park either. Once Casey arrived, she discovered there was a hidden underside to Rockton and to Diana who she thought she knew so well. Turns out that Diana and her Abusive Ex-husband had stolen a large amount of money and that was why he kept turning up like a bad penny. Being in a town without internet makes it easy for people to hide their true natures. But all of that is another story, literally…so go read the first 4 books! At the beginning of Alone in the Woods, Casey and Sheriff Eric Dalton are on a much needed vacation after all the truly daunting challenges they have faced in earlier. Casey has had a steep learning curve sine she walked out to that helicopter so many moons ago. But when Casey awakens alone in the camp with her Newfoundland puppy Storm and she hears what she thinks is a baby crying she doesn’t quite believe her ears. When she finds a baby clutched to the chest of a murdered woman, it raises a number of issues. The most immediate of which is that Rockton doesn’t admit children of any age. Solving the mystery of how this baby came to be in the Yukon without any others in sight will be one of the toughest challenges Casey faces. It will introduce a number of new characters into the world of Rockton. And, seeing Sheriff Dalton with this newborn will cause Casey to face emotional pitfalls that surprise her and force both she and Eric to have a relationship talk Casey never thought to face. Since I wholeheartedly hope you will read this book I will stop here. I have enjoyed the journey with Rockton so far and I cannot wait to get my hands on book 6. At the beginning, I was anxiously awaiting the next installment and I still am! Seeing Casey settle into Rockton is a pleasure and seeing the world expand to include so many characters reminds me of the early books of Otherworld. Even more of a Kelley Armstrong fan even though this book kept me up all night!
See, the universe does supply answers. Sometimes not the one we want but the one we need. Since the blow ups are still occuring in my family of origin (come on, who in my life is surprised at that one… Hmm no takers, wait nope that person just had an itch…) And the “bugaboos” (that is a made up word. If anyone out there uses that word for anything or is offended at it because it sounds like a word they have heard anywhere-that is not the use of this word and I CAN definitively say, as the person who created the word and owns the rights to it… STOP USING A WORD I CREATED if you are using it wrong. Down the rabbit hole we go… A Bugaboo is an issue that scares you or makes you uncomfortable after a situation has happened that in some way damaged you. It is like the ghost of Christmas past but instead of being Christmas it the ghost of… That inner child! Yay, new connection made!) Are now being multiplied left and right kinda like gremlins. Remember those? No too young for that? Ok furbys. Ah yes light dawns in a whole generation of people. When did I become a responsible adult? Ah, yes, that pesky thing called marriage. And when did it really hit home that I was IT as far as adults go? That would be when singing the shma and watching the light go out of my soul mates eyes… But when did it really break through? No one is asking, and this right here is what is so dangerous about the Internet. We forget what we are writing goes far and wide. That someone can twist our words to say whatever they want. And thus there are twitter wars and people who are famous for being famous telling us what to drink eat wear. Etc. But there to is the fun part. Remember the days where if you loved a celebrity you would send a hand written letter written over a period of days, edited over and over and a clean copy (without erasures or white out) would go to the celebrity. Two weeks or so later you would get something in the mail with a form letter and a small thing (a boomark, a headshot, etc). Now, you get to interact with authors and all the fans. Rather then a cold weekend trying to LARP we have people who role play online. Some of those are author approved and even the ones that aren’t allow us to interact with characters that started in someone else’s head. Isn’t that great? And we can connect with the authors who create our favorite universes. Have a question, ask the writer and if you are lucky get an answer. And it’s amazing how many times fans argue about a definitive answer from an author. We take it for granted that we can reach out and connect with someone. It’s amazing when you look at how far we have come. I remember when the Disney Channel started along with Nickelodeon. Now, if we can’t see our show on TV, there are instantaneous uploads. What a magnificent world we live in.
Any Kate Daniels fans out there? If so Iron and Magic, which I thought might be interesting just rocketed to one of my top priorities. Food, Air, Sleep and Iron and Magic. Adjustments have been made and priorities are straight, thank goodness for great books!
And a very merry book birthday to two giants in the publishing world (or at leaat my book publishing world) Christine Feehan with Leopard’s Blood and Iris Johansen with Mind Game! Heather Graham released a 1001 Nights novella for krewe of hunters fans, Hallow be the Haunt. There are a few more that may be of interest to some of you but whom I do not follow. Might be worth taking a look at the book release calendar
A couple of days ago, I warned that my posts might seem to be a little surreal because I was starting Jeaniene Frost‘s Night Prince which was the fourth and final installment in the that series. The reason that required a caveat was that Vlad is the hero int that series and he has a stepson and blood nephew named Mircea. Given that most of my posts revolve around the Cassandra Palmer and the Dorina Basarab series in which Mircea is a hero and Vlad a villain. I have to admit that it was difficult even within my own mind to make the switch. Eventually, though, my brain successfully made the switch and I came to really enjoy the return to the Night Huntress world. I have to give Jeaniene Frost some mad props. Mencheres plays a large role in the book and they throw in a stay at Kat and Bones cabin. What amazes me about this is that Jeaniene Frost is able to successfully end each series and then start another tangential story, one for which the foundations were laid in the process of telling this hero/heroine story. This means that when the next series, which will revolve around Ian, starts we know that some of our old friends will play a part and, in a way, each successive series is a continuation of the one before.
I also greatly enjoyed the Sweetest Burn, the second story in the Broken Destiny series. This series is truly unrelated to the other world. This series revolves around a battle between good in the form of Archons (Angel like beings) and Demons. These Demons have realms that are just a slight bit misaligned with reality and the heroine, Ivy has long been able to see glimpses of these realms and has a long history of psychiatric treatment due to this ability. When her sister disappears and her adoptive parents are killed while investigating the disappearance, Ivy decides she will fin and rescue her sister or die in the effort. This leads to a discovery of the Demons, their realms, minions (humans enlisted by both Archons and Demons to do their will on Earth since there are agreements in place limiting what can be done by the demons and Archons) and the fact that there is something quite special about Ivy. Ivy is the last descendant who has the blood of David from the biblical story of David and Goliath. The Archon who informs Ivy of all this brings someone to hep her Adrian, a man who was brought up in the demon realms and switched sides and who also has an illustrious ancestor as well-Jude, the man who betrayed Christ for 30 pieces of silver and who is prophesied to betray Ivy as well. Apparently there are 3 artifacts that can only be wielded by one of David’s descendants and have become necessary as the walls between the realms are weakening. Anyways, this second book revolves around a search for a magical staff, the one that Moses used. When Ivy used the slingshot at the end of the first novel, it became a tattoo embedded in Ivy’s skin and it comes as a great surprise when she learns that it can still be used although not to the same effect as before. This installment shows Adrian and Ivy’s partnership going to the next level, with a number of ramifications that, of course, only become apparent AFTER the events have occurred.
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For a long time now, I have been blogging about Karen Chance’s books and talking about my relationships with the main characters in that world in an almost casual way. During that time, Jeaniene Frost has released two books, that although I had purchased them and added them to my to be read queue, I hadn’t read them yet. So, I am issuing a little bit of a warning and a caution for all those Karen Chance fans who are following me. I am reading Jeaniene Frost’s night Prince finale. This may be a wee bit confusing because in this series Vlad (aka Dracula) is the hero and is married to a psychic Leila. They are fighting against a foe named Mircea who is somehow his stepson as well as his nephew by blood as Radu’s son. So for the next little bit of time, my posts might become a little confusing. In all honestly, I am having enough trouble switching tracks within my own mind so that I can fully enjoy the end of the Night Prince series as I return to the world of Jeaniene Frost’s creation. So, should I be making statements that make no sense in the context of the Karen Chance universe, please forgive me as I am visiting Jeaniene Frost’s universe and thus those statements might make sense in that context. But given the fact that I keep having to remind myself which series I am reading, the statements may not be making sense in that context either. It is kind of like the process when learning a new language–your thoughts are in your native language and then you translate them into the new language. So, now I am reminding myself it is not that Vlad but this one and that sentence shows my inner monologue is confusing–let alone the outer one…
Into the Fire
Jeaniene Frost
Fiction
Avon
February 28, 2017
384
In the explosive finale to New York Times bestselling author Jeaniene Frost’s Night Prince series, Vlad is in danger of losing his bride to an enemy whose powers might prove greater than the Prince of Vampires’ . . .In the wrong hands, love can be a deadly weapon For nearly six hundred years, Vlad Tepesh cared for nothing, so he had nothing to lose. His brutal reputation ensured that all but the most foolhardy stayed away. Now, falling in love with Leila has put him at the mercy of his passions. And one adversary has found a devastating way to use Vlad’s new bride against him. A powerful spell links Leila to the necromancer Mircea. If he suffers or dies, so does she. Magic is forbidden to vampires, so Vlad and Leila enlist an unlikely guide as they search for a way to break the spell. But an ancient enemy lies in wait, capable of turning Vlad and Leila’s closest friends against them . . . and finally tearing the lovers apart forever.
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