Friday, September 11, 2015

Dead to the World by Charlaine Harris

140077
4 Stars
 
NOTE: The Eric gifs are coming, but y’all are gonna have to work for them ; )

By the time I reached Book #9 the end of the Sookie Stackhouse series, my reaction was something kinda like this . . .

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I (along with many other superfans of the Southern Vampire Series) was extremely disappointed. Not with the “who will Sookie end up with????” part. I mean seriously - DUH when it came to that question. I was bummed that it felt like Harris had thrown in the towel and just continued to milk that cash cow for all it was worth. I don’t fault any author for being done with a character or a series, but I do fault them for continuing on/signing new contracts/cashing paychecks when their heart isn’t in it any longer. As much as fans might bitch and moan about wanting moremoremore, it’s even worse when we get said moremoremore but find out we spent our hard earned moolah on crap.

Now, I’m not saying this series started off with goooooood books. Obviously they weren’t ever up for a National Book Award. Buuuuuuuuuut, this re-read reminded me why I got so addicted to all the fluffy yumminess . . .

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Mmmmmm, Eric. OVIOUSLY! The early books in this series had more than just hot vampires and bangable werewolves . . .

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going for them. They also had a PLOT. Better than that even - MULTIPLE plotlines and tons of action – both in and out of the sack. In Dead to the World we’re introduced to a weird little place called Hotshot, a glamazon known as Claudine, a missing brother, crossing storylines between witches and werewolves and shifters (OH MY), a cameo by Bubba . . .

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and last but most DEFINITELY not least, amnesiac Eric . . .

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You are all familiar with Eric, right????

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Wait. Where was I??? Oh yeah, Eric . . . .

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If only he’d done some more of this . . .

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along with the making of the sex.

Dead to the World was pure guilty pleasure that loses star because in real life if your MOTHERF*&^ING RAPIST goes away to Peru you throw a G.D. party instead of pining for him. Get your f-ing head checked, Sookie. And also, because having all of the sexytimes interrupted by Eric calling the Queen of the Dipshits his “lover” which almost caused me to lose my sploosh. Worst. Pet. Name. Ever. Seriously. Here’s Exhibit A for proof:

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Many thanks to Stepheny for letting me tag along on this re-read and to Karly for hopping in as well. You gals know how to bring the Eric giffy goods ; )

I’d say I’m going to leave well enough alone and not read any more of this series, but I’ve learned to never say never. Plus, I might get the urge to read about ol’ Bob again . . .

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For now, though, I’ll simply say . . .

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