Danse Macabre by

It was the middle of November. I was supposed to be out jogging, but instead I was sitting at my breakfast table talking about men, sex, werewolves, vampires, and that thing that most unmarried but sexual active women fear most of all - a missed period.
–Laurell K. Hamilton - Danse Macabre - c. 2006 - pg.1

ISBN: 1841494747
#14 in the Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter verse
Read for the RIP Challenge
See also: Voracious Reader ; It’s not the heat, it’s the humanity

Image of Danse MacabreIt all went downhill so quickly in this series. The first few books were good solid entertainment. Plenty of action and fairly decent characters. But now they are all merely vehicles for Anita to have sex with as many people as she can. And to top it all they are badly written as well. Thank god I got this one from the library and didn’t shell out actual cash for it.

This may be the worst of this verse that I’ve read so far. I’m trying to think what the plot might be, only there isn’t one, everything happens over the course of a few days, and really the “everything” is sex and poorly written screaming matches with characters sometimes repeating, word for word, what a difference character informed us of earlier.

And yet I finished it. And may even read the next in the series; I did see it when I was in the library. So from that perspective Hamilton has done a good job. But from the perspective of writing a good story she has failed. There is no story, there is simply her Mary Sue screaming. Sometimes because she’s scared. Sometimes because she is angry. And often because she is having “midblowingly awesome” sex with various vampires and shapeshifters. Basically she screams a lot.

Plus, there is no horror in these stories any more, and there is certainly no mystery. ACtually that isn’t true, there is a mystery, why I continue to read them.

And the thing that really bothered me in this book was not the pages of quaisi-psycho-crap that I skimmed and skimmed, but the way Hamilton seems determined to make all other female characters into bad guys. Anita’s best friend is shown as nothing but a jealous slut. Other female characters that she meets are bitches. There is not one who is even half as, I dunno, approachable as any of her male characters. Well, maybe Claudia, but even then she is such a peripheral character.

In conclusion, and in case you couldn’t guess, this is not a good book.

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