A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Cerulean Sins’ chapter nineteen

The second scene was in Chesterfield, which had been a hot address for the up-and-comers before most of the money moved even farther out to Wildwood and beyond. The neighbourhood that Jason drove us through was a sharp contrast to the big isolated houses we’d just seen. This was middle class, middle America, backbone of the nation kind of neighbourhood. There are thousands of subdivisions exactly like it. Except in this one, not all the houses were identical. They were still too close together and had a sameness about them, as if a hive mind had designed them all, but some were two-story, some only one, some brick, some not.

There were medium-sized trees in the yards, which meant the area was over ten years old. It takes time to grow trees.

What exactly did any of this add to the plot.

Anita and Jason draw up to the crime scene and Anita starts to freak because the press are here. Ah, yes, no doubt they will be very interested in why you’re bringing a untrained exotic dancer to a crime scene.

There were two local news vans and a handful of print media. You can always tell print, because they have the still cameras and no microphones. Though they will shove tape recorders in your face.

Wow, Anita’s so clever she can work out that the people without video cameras and a filming team aren’t involved with TV! Plus, print reporters don’t shove tape recorders in your face. They only do that in bad TV shows and films.

Jason doesn’t understand how or why the news is here (I see why you’re keeping him around) and Anita sighs about how much of a celebrity she is. For someone so ‘famous’, you’d think an investigative reporter might have taken an interest in her. Jason then helps her down the street and to the crime scene which…. um, if you’re so famous, don’t you think someone is going to question, ask, wonder why the fuck this random guy who isn’t affiliated with any law enforcement agency is strolling to a crime scene? She worries about her gun pointlessly.

I was feeling better if I could be worrying this much over my gun. Good to know. Feeling bad sucks, and nausea is one of the great evils of the universe.

Yeah, I mean genocide, poverty, the derogatory treatment of women, the 57 million children forbidden from education, disease outbreaks… none of them compare to feeling slightly sick.

Anita and Jason make their way through the… scrum of journalists, despite the fact that it was stated there were only a few there. They start bombarding Anita with questions on the crime scene and rather than just ignore them, she actually answers them. Then whines when they start to ask her whether Jason is her boyfriend.

Just don’t engage. Walk on through. But, nope, this is a ‘I’m FAMOUSSSSSS’ wank fantasy.

I did not understand why my personal life was more interesting, or even as interesting, as a murder. It made no sense to me.

Sorry, Anita, your creator has made you the centre of the universe. Sense doesn’t enter into it. Anita just whines on and on about how the press always misconstrue what she says and changes it so why for the love of God do you even say anything? She complains about how often she’s in the newspapers or on the news and I’m just like, lol, whatevs. If she’s in the news this much, someone would have investigated her life by now. There’s nothing news media likes more than tearing someone down.

Anita gets to the door. There’s a cop she knows on the door but he calls her ‘Ms Blake’ instead of Marshal and that sets off a fresh load of whining.

The uniform opened the door for us because he was wearing rubber gloves. I’d left my crime scene kit at home.


A member of a law enforcement agency – be they FBI agent, crime scene investigator, or just a beat cop making sure no one runs into a crime scene – never knows when they might be called in. You might be in the middle of your shopping. You might be sleeping. Crime don’t give a shit if you need to go and get milk. Surely, Anita, if you’re such a OMGSUPERAWESOMEMARSHAL shouldn’t you have several crime scene kits? Kept in different places in case you’re urgently called in?

She also lets Jason into the crime scene.

I see LKH has given up actually writing anything realistic or compelling. Congrats.

Anita walks around the house and complains that she can’t see the colour scheme. A ‘Detective Merlioni’ arrives and Anita knows something is up because his tie is crooked and he hasn’t been sexist towards her yet. He asks who Jason is.

“Dolph knew I was too shaky to drive, so he gave me permission to bring a driver with me.”

Yeah, a DRIVER. He didn’t say to bring him into an active crime scene! She excuses her travesty by saying ‘Oh, I couldn’t leave him outside with the press, despite there being loads of police officers’. Merlioni and Jason make a big deal about introducing themselves. Merlioni then decides to allow Jason inside the crime scene.

I’d take a picture of my agonised face at this bullshit but my face is very puffy today and you don’t need to see that shit.

Anita and Jason are left alone in the crime scene and they start to smell blood because of mystic werewolf powers. I call bullshit again because blood is quite a strong smell, especially if someone has been murdered, and I can always smell it, even in minute amounts.

Blood smells sort of sweet and metallic like old pennies, or nickels, but a lot of blood smells like hamburger. You know, it’s going to be bad, really bad, when a human being is reduced to the smell of so much ground meat.

I’ve always found that large amounts of blood smells sort of… it’s hard to describe, really. Like, metallic and sour and sort of rotten? It’s sharp and pungent, definitely not sweet. Raw beef smells sweet.

Jason and Anita talk about how freaked out they are. Anita needs him for some reason. They get rubber gloves and Anita thinks that a lot of people have been here. She wants to know where Dolph is.

I want to know where the hell the editor has been. So much of this should have just been cut. Nineteen chapters, and we haven’t even hit the secondary plot yet!

A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Cerulean Sins’ chapter eighteen

When Zerbrowski first led me into the room, I thought, there’s a man levitating against the wall.

Uncle Albert? Why are you here?

It looked as if he’d been shot, a lot, and bled, but bullets wouldn’t have kept him pinned to the wall.

I had to be almost underneath the body before my eyes could make sense of it, and even then, I was going to have to ask someone who was more tool-oriented if I was right.

It looked like someone had taken a nail gun, one of those industrial sized nail guns, and nailed him to the wall.

Then they were taken to the Department of Redundancy, that deals in redundancy, redundantly. Also, I’m not sure if you could actually do that. Admittedly, that’s based on some Google Fu, but think about crucifixion. If you nail the hands and feet of a person to a cross, and expect them to just remain there, tough luck. The nails rip through, because the weight of the person is too much for them to carry. In crucifixion, most victims were tied to the cross (or had their legs broken and nailed to the side of the cross, but that doesn’t apply here). Even with an industrial nail gun, I doubt you could nail someone to a wall.

The dark spots on the body were at both palms, both wrists, forearms just above the elbows, shoulders, collarbone, lower legs just above the knees -

They managed to get a nail through the strongest bone in the body? Not. Buying. It.

- just above the ankles, then through each foot. The legs were apart, not pierced together. They hadn’t tried to imitate the Crucifixion. If you went to this much trouble, it was almost odd to not echo that long-ago drama. The very fact that they hadn’t   tried seemed strange to me.

Um, two things. Firstly, is it just me, or does that read like LKH is implying that there is only one crucifixion in all of human history? I know saying ‘the Crucifixion’ would make a majority of the western world go, ‘oh, right, Jesus’, but calling it THE Crucifixion almost suggests that it only happened to Jesus. I just find the wording strange. Secondly, ‘drama’? Drama is relationship troubles, not an agonising torture that causes a slow death.

Plus, I just have this image in my head….


Like, this doesn’t seem a practical way to murder people at all.

I leaned forward too far and had to put my fingertips out to catch myself. My fingers touched dried blood on the wall. Only then did I realise I’d forgotten my surgical gloves. Fuck.

Fuck indeed. You’ve just compromised the entire case. Congrats!

“How could you let me come in here without gloves on?”

Um, no. Don’t blame others for your failures, Anita! You’re the fuck-up!

“I didn’t expect you to touch the evidence,” he said. He fished a bottle of hand sanitizer out of one of his pockets. “Katie makes me carry it.”

I let him pour some into my hands and I scrubbed them.

Anita Blake: Cannot Even Be Trusted To Use Hand Gels. Plus, he poured it INTO your hands? I know you’ve lost a lot of blood, but hand sanitiser isn’t an appropriate substitute!

It wasn’t that I was really worried about catching anything from that one small touch, I didn’t more out of habit. You didn’t take pieces of the crime scene home if you didn’t have to.

“Where’d you get that sweet TV unit?”

“Crime scene. I thought I had to.”

The gel evaporated against my skin making my hands feel wet, though I knew they weren’t.

how fascinating

Anita, after not being given an ear-full for ruining the case, looks at the walls around the crucified body. They’re covered in pentagrams and Nordic runes. I’m starting to wonder why Anita was called into advise on this case. She doesn’t know shit about magic. RPIT has a witch detective! Surely she’d be much more useful on this case.

I’d had one semester of comparative religion with a professor who had really liked the Norse. It had left me with a better knowledge of runes than most Christians had. It had been years, but I still recognized enough to be confused.

I’d forgotten how Anita had taken classes in absolutely everything that might be plot relevant in later life. I don’t buy that she still remembers as much as she claims too. She hasn’t done any work with runes since. University was five, six years away for her. It’s not realistic that she can remember one term so perfectly.

Anita starts to talk about the runes she is not an expert in and knows nothing about. The runes are in a ‘pretty standard order’. Um, right, whatever.

“If you’re really doing ritual, you have a specific purpose. You don’t use all the Norse runes, because some of them are contradictatory. I mean, you don’t want to use a rune for chaos and a rune for order. I can’t think of a true ritual where you would use them all. Even if you’re doing a working where you wanted to invoke polarity, healing, harming, chaos, order, god, goddess, you still wouldn’t. Some of them aren’t easily made to fit any true polarity/opposite sort of thing. And they’re also in a pretty standard textbook order.”

Or they might be saying, ‘I TOLD YOU TO PICK YOUR FUCKING UNDERWEAR UP’. Because runes aren’t some magical mystical thing. I mean, they can be, but they’re, you know, letters. They’re part of an alphabet. Does… does LKH not realise that runes are a non-Latin alphabet?

BEHOLD THE MYSTIC COMB … with someone’s name on it so they don’t lose it. Tremble before its awesome powers!

Zerbrowski wants to know whether this is magical. YOU FUCKING MORON. YOU HAVE A WITCH ON THE POLICE FORCE. WHY AREN’T YOU TALKING TO HER? Anita says it isn’t, and that ‘the body isn’t arranged to imitate any mystical or religious symbolism that I’m familiar with’.

Well, even if the body hasn’t been posed to resemble Christ on the cross, surely the potential this crime has religious elements to it can’t be just discounted without investigation. Crucifixion is an incredibly potent religious symbol in the west. Maybe the guy isn’t posed like Jesus because the killer had trouble sticking him to the wall?

Anita says that the runes are just copied out of some book. Um, they’ll need more clues than that. There are several runic alphabets, and they’re very different from each other. She concludes that there was no magical or religious purpose and Zerbrowski… confirms that’s what Tammy Reynolds, RPIT witch, already told them.

Excuse me.

laser anger eyes

Dolph just can’t bring himself to trust Detective Reynolds because of her mystical powers. Oh, he’ll trust ANITA FUCKING BLAKE, MURDERER AND RAPIST, but not Reynolds, who has only ever been professional and law-abiding. For some reason, despite the fact that Anita hates Tammy, she gets pissed and threatens to talk to Dolph. Zerbrowski gets scared and says how Dolph has been so grumpy lately.

Anita stomps around on her munchkin legs and looks out the window. The house has a nice view. I needed to know that.

“They had to know for sure that there was no neighbour out there that could see what they were doing. Shooting him, you might take your chances, but putting him up on the wall, and all the symbols, no, they had to be sure they wouldn’t be seen.”

“That’s pretty organised for a wacko,” Zerbrowski said.

*steeples fingers* So, Zerbrowski, your theory is that a random mentally ill person stumbled into this particular home, which is secluded and isolated, and just decided, ‘hey, I’ve got this nail gun and a book of runes, I’m going to murder the first person I see in an incredibly ritualised manner!’.

And you’re a police detective how, exactly?

Anita comes up with the ground-breaking theory that someone might have murdered this guy for a reason, like money. Zerbrowski is dumbstruck by this. It was Dolph’s theory, until after finding out there was no magic and needing confirmation for that.

“I may not always like Detective Tammy, but she’s pretty good at what she does.”

“You just don’t like that she’s sating Larry Kirkland, your animator in training.”

“No, I don’t like that she and Larry are dating. She’s his first serious girlfriend, so forgive me, but I felt protective.”

Bang head

Zerbrowski sings about how Larry and Tammy are in L-O-V-E. Before you think I’m being hyperbolic, that’s what it actually says. Argh. Anita then tries to get home because she doesn’t want to do the job she’s been assigned to do, but Zerbrowski grabs her and says she simply must go to the second scene, it’s so violent, and Dolph might get angry!

Why are you grabbing her, you asshole.

Then the tension just goes as Anita agrees to see the crime scene and they tease each other. I might like it if I didn’t hate both of these characters with a fiery passion.

He started me across the room, arm still across my shoulders. “How did you end up with a werewolf stripper as your driver for the day?”

“Just lucky I guess.”

If we objectify men, it’s like sexism never happened!

A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Cerulean Sins’ chapter seventeen

My badge on its little cord around my neck got us past most of the cops. The few that questioned us recognized my name, or had worked with me before. Always good to be known. They questioned Jason’s presence. I finally told them I’d deputized him.

Okay, she can technically do that. But I don’t imagine it going well. (Dialogue is waaay inaccurate to actual court room laws. Because I am mopey and lazy)

Defence Lawyer (let’s call her… Viola): So, it was at this point that Marshal Blake brought… ‘Jason’ to your crime scene, am I correct?

Officer: That is correct, yes.

Viola: And this ‘Jason’, was deputised in as a Marshal – I’m correct again, aren’t I?

Officer: Yes, ma’am.

Viola: You didn’t think to question this? From what the court has heard, this ‘Jason’ is a erotic dancer and lover to Marshal Blake’s longterm romantic partner. He has no formal training in law enforcement, no detective skills, no knowledge of crime scene forensics. How is this court supposed to accept the prosecution’s evidence when it could easily have been tampered with, contaminated, or even falsified by this boytoy of Marshal Blake’s?

But, you know, this is coming from a universe which has actual logical sense. No one is going to seriously question Jason’s involvement, I’m betting.

Then massive stupid happens.

A big statie, with shoulders wider than either of us was tall -

No. No. No. Human physiology doesn’t work like that.

- said, “I’ve heard it called a lot of things, but deputy isn’t one of ‘em.”

He’s completely right but Anita puffs up like an enraged toad.

I turned on him, slowly, because I couldn’t move fast, and the very slowness of the turn helped the menace. It’s hard to be menacing to someone when you barely reach their waist, but I have had a lot of practice.



Um, okay. Apparently this state trooper is TEN FOOT TALL or Anita Blake is actually only a metre tall, and is actually a dwarf. Either way, I can only summarise that LKH has never seen or interacted with real human beings and is actually an alien from the Spoon Planet.

Jason must have been afraid what I’d say because he said, “You’re just jealous.”

Yeah, he’s jealous of this random fucktoy coming into a crime scene where a murder has taken place and, you know, BEING A BIG GOOBER WHO CONTAMINATES THE SCENE AND RUINS THE CASE.

The big man shook his head in his Smokey the bear hat. “I like my women bigger.”

“Funny,” I said, “that’s what your wife says.”

It took him a minute to get it, then he unfolded those beefy arms and took a step towards us. “Why you…”

Wow. Sick burn. You gonna give him a wedgie next?

Watch out, we’ve got some real badasses in town.

Zerbrowski comes in to rescue Anita. He just accepts Jason as a deputy because he’s an idiot. They force the state trooper to apologise for doing his job.

When the big trooper had wandered away to his car, Zerbrowski called over one of the other detectives on the Regional Preternatural Investigation Team, affectionately known as RIPT. If you wanted to piss them off, call them RIP.

It would seem everyone is five years old. LKH, I am not impressed by characters acting like children. How can I buy Anita Blake as a competent, scary vampire hunter when she seems to think ‘I’m rubber, you’re glue!’ is witty repartee?

Zerbrowski and Anita then swap exposition. Dolph is now a lieutenant and Zerbrowski is… party whip? Eh? His second-in-command? Who the fuck knows, and who the fuck cares. Dolph had a party, to which Anita was invited, but she wasn’t invited to Zerbrowski’s. This is because no one likes Micah because he’s a shapeshifter.

No, they probably don’t like him because he acted like a creepy, abusive asshole at the party. Because that’s what he is.

Zerbrowski slobbers over Anita’s butt as he promises the golden couple can come round to his house for dinner. Happy happy joy joy. Zerbrowski and Jason swap disgust comments about how they can’t make Anita sleep with them. Anita has a DRAMATIC wobble and goes all faint. Zerbrowski is dutiful non-character that he is, and fawns about how ill she is and how he’ll carry her delicate little form around the crime scene. At least he’s the one who finally puts his foot down and forbids Jason from entering the crime scene. Although, to a halfway decent defence lawyer, it’s already compromised beyond saving.

Anita then blames Dolph for this. He just forced her to come out here, despite St. Louis having lots of vampire hunters who work with the police. Zerbrowski has enough courage to call Anita ‘stupid’ to her face and lets her sit down until she stops feeling queasy.

Oh, and they’re now inside a house. Wow. This scintillating dialogue was just so good LKH couldn’t be bothered to progress the mystery part of the plot!

And that’s it. That’s the chapter.

Luckily, I found the entire Bikini Kill discography on youtube, so I can keep myself entertained. And full of righteous feminist anger.

A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Cerulean Sins’ chapter sixteen

The chapter opens up with a long ramble about ‘Wildwood’, an up-and-coming neighbourhood that is very fashionable, but is in the middle of nowhere. Anita doesn’t understand how an area in a rural setting can be upmarket.

Anita doesn’t understand anything, really. She just can’t fathom anything that exists beyond her limited goldfish bowl view.

Anita feels really sick and has to wear her sunglasses. Apparently, she can’t even be trusted to close her eyes. She whines about it to Jason, instead of pointing out that he ought to have taken her to hospital.

“How can you endure this?” I asked.

“If you’d slept the day away like a normal pomme de sang or human servant, you wouldn’t be sick at all.”

“Forgive me for having a day job.”

“Also if Asher had taken enough for just a feeding, then you might be a bit sick,” he negotiated a turn, “but I think that whatever Asher did to you along with taking blood made it worse.” He paused. “Truthfully, you shouldn’t be this sick, at all.”

Asher did take a huge lump of flesh out of Anita’s neck. Maybe it was that.

Anita says that the crime scene is on the main road, so Jason asks whether Anita was having sex at dawn. She was, and gets flustered when she implies it was with both JC and Asher. Jason makes hurr hurr jokes and then sees the crime scene. Anita goes on about how she’s a federal marshal now and that she gets paid per kill.

Huh. That seems, um, stupid. It’s mentioned that vampire hunters never earn enough to from just vampire hunting. So why pay them per kill? Isn’t that just going to encourage vampire hunters to be all, ‘Well, clearly, this vampire was ready to attack people, so I shot him. On the street. While he was buying socks. HE WAS DANGEROUS’.

I wasn’t getting any more money, so why had I wanted the badge? Because it meant I could chase the vampires, or other supernatural bad guys, across state lines, different law enforcement jurisdictions, and not have to ask anyone’s permission. I also wouldn’t be up on murder charges if I killed a vamp on the wrong side of a state line where I wasn’t licensed.

Who the hell thought giving Anita carte blanche to kill across the country was a good idea???

But for me, more than most vampire hunters, there was an extra benefit to having a badge of my very own. I no longer had to rely on policeman friends to get me into crime scenes.

Um, so… vampire hunters can work outside of the law? I thought they had to get like, permission and stuff to kill vampires because they work with the police? So Anita could literally declare anywhere a crime scene involving vampires and kill whoever she wants?

Well, if she ever killed vampires. For a series about vampire hunting, it doesn’t involve much vampire hunting.

A real federal marshal could have intruded into any investigation, and technically my badge didn’t specify that I was regulated to preternatural crime, but I know my limitations.

oh my god anita wants to force herself into every crime ever oh my god why the hell did they give this woman a badge and freedom to do whatever she wants????

A regular cop I am not. What I’m good at, I’m very good at, but at what I don’t know shit about, I don’t know shit about it. Take me away from the monsters and I wasn’t sure how much use I’d be.


I was out of the Jeep and flashing my badge before the uniform got to us. He sized me up the way men will do from shoes to face – in that order.

Yeah, the phrase ‘from shoes to face’ implies that anyway. I’m not stupid.

Any man who starts at my feet and then goes up has lost pretty much any chance he has to impress me.

I’ve never had a man look me up from foot to face. Mostly, they either look at my face, or they start at my chest and go up. Why would she be bothered by them staring at her feet? Surely it’s worse if they look at your chest and stay there?

Officer Jenkins doesn’t know who Anita is and Dolph has vanished. Apparently, Dolph didn’t think to tell people at the crime scene that a specialist would be arriving. Why would that be useful??

Everyone in this universe is a total fucking goober.

Jason then gets out of the Jeep. This doesn’t help at all because he’s dressed like an extra from a homoerotic eighties electronica music video.

Standing there in my three-inch heels on the slightly uneven road was making me feel light-headed again. I did not have the patience, or the strength, to debate.

You’re nauseous and light-headed. You have to trek around a rural crime scene. So, short skirt and heels it is then!

“Officer Jenkins, I am a federal marshal, do you know what that means?”

It means that there is no government and this is a terrible, terrible world.

“Nope,” he said, making the word longer than it was.

“It means that I don’t need your permission to enter this crime scene. I don’t need anybody’s permission. So it doesn’t matter if the lieutenant is here or not. I told you who alerted me to this crime out of courtesy, but if you don’t want to be courteous, officer, then we don’t have to be.”

Anita, if you carry on pissing off everyone else who works in law enforcement, you’re going to quickly be out of a job. Or someone is going to shoot you in the back of the head and blame a criminal.

Officer Jenkins points out that she may be a fed, but Jason sure as fuck isn’t, so he’s not going into any crime scene.

Anita’s response is to rip her bandage off and show off her wound.

“I have had a hard night, Officer Jenkins, and I have the authority to go into any preternaturally related crime scene that I see fit to enter.

Officer Jenkins: Well, sure, but your companion doesn’t. He is still not a federal marshal. If you need some help, I’m happy to escort you to the crime scene.

Anita, Jason’s presence at the crime scene jeopardises the ENTIRE CASE. He’ll contaminate the crime scene! A good defence lawyer will use his presence to throw the case out of court! Who the hell made Anita ‘herpaderpderp’ Blake a fed?

In reality, rather than kicking Jason out, Jenkins just ignores it and says that it’s not a vampire attack. Anita gets snitty about it and bullies Jenkins about how she didn’t say it was a vampire attack but he’d better get out of her fucking way. God, I’ve both been glad to be away and have missed Anita’s particular brand of violence-inducing snobbery to other people.

She glides past poor old Jenkins and whines about how Dolph is going to be so pissed with her. Uh, he’s not at the crime scene?

We started walking up the hill. I had to take Jason’s arm about halfway up. My goal in life for that moment was not to fall down, throw up, or faint, while Jenkins was still puzzling over whether he’d done the right thing letting us past him.

Congratulations. You probably just got Jenkins in serious trouble and when they find out he’s ruined a crime scene, he’ll probably loose his job.

He’ll never reach a day before retirement now. Thanks a lot, Anita!

A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Cerulean Sins’ chapter fifteen

So, my long and unexpected absence.

In September, a member of my family was diagnosed with a serious illness. I won’t discuss it further on a public medium such as this – although some of you know already, through our friendship – but it shook my family pretty badly. I’d just got my play finished (and it got some great reviews) and was starting to think about how to sell it to other venues. I’d just started a new job. Suddenly, all my energy was focused on something else, something so outside my control and my comfort levels that I pretty much just dropped everything. I fell into a depressive spiral and focused myself on just what was important. My spare time I devoted to my family or on video games – because I didn’t have to think when I was battling darkspawn or assassinating people. I could close up everything that hurt and not think about it. I gave up writing or doing anything productive.

This was not helped when, two weeks ago, I myself was rushed into hospital. They think it’s gallstones, but all I know was that my worst fears had come true. I have serious anxiety problems when it comes to hospitals and surgery, so having a drip for the first time, travelling in an ambulance for the first time, and spending time overnight on a surgical ward for the first time was really not a fun experience for me. Hell, they had to give me medication to stop me from throwing up with fear. I had a bad reaction to them. It was not pleasant. I’m a lot better now and I’ve got an ultrasound tomorrow to find out what’s wrong. Hopefully, I won’t have to have surgery.

I didn’t feel that I had the time or the emotional energy to devote to the blog, not until I felt better in myself. I still don’t know whether I do now. But I miss you guys, fo’ serious and all that. I miss talking to you guys and I miss the batshit world of Anita Blake.

Now, I can’t promise to keep up my old schedule. But this is me, jumping back into the world of blogging. It’s nice to talk to you all again.

Last time in Anita Blake, Asher had ripped a chunk of her neck out and she was bleeding to death. This was solved by people standing around and doing nothing. This time, she’s laid in bed and people are lying around doing nothing.

She’s been asleep in a bed and realises she’s in the Circus of the Damned because of the ‘bare stone walls’. This place must be freezing cold or JC spends millions on trying to heat it. Why bare stone walls? No one has bare stone walls. You have tapestries up because stone walls are fucking freezing! Anita notices she’s been woken up by a phone ringing, which Jason answers.

Oh, Jason. I’ve missed the desire to pound your face into a stone patio. He answers and tells whoever’s calling that Anita is sick.

He was laying on his side, his back to me, the sheet pulled down enough that I could see the top of his buttocks. What the fuck was I doing naked in a bed with Jason?


Anita tries to sit up but she’s all light headed and shit. Ha, you know nothing until you have a bad reaction to anti-nausea medication. You know nothing. She announces she’s awake and that she doesn’t remember anything. Then she dramatically raises a hand to the bandage on her throat and she remembers it all.

I remembered everything, and it wasn’t just my mind that remembered it. My body convulsed against the bed, my spine bowing, hands clawing at the sheets, a moan tore from my throat, before my body stole all the breath from me, and I bucked against the bed, caught in a sensory memory. It wasn’t as good as the original, but damn it was close.

Yeah, that’s… that’s just not right. Not only is the mind incapable of remembering the actual feeling of pain, but yeah, remembering an injury doesn’t make the body go buck-buck-buckaroo. That’s not how anything works.

Jason realises he has to do something for a change so grabs her arms. She just flails around and tears at him with her nails until she feels better. Neither of them know what their author just did. Anita then sinks into one of JC’s memories of Asher with a lady with large breasts.

This upsets Anita because…. um, women are bad? Jason gets her one of those athletic energy drinks to help replace her electrolytes, even though she should have had a blood transfusion and a drip. Anita apologises for cutting Jason up, although he should be apologising for, you know, sleeping naked next to her without her consent.

“You said this was a flashback, a flashback to what?” he asked.

“To what happened with Jean-Claude and Asher.”

He raised eyebrows at me. “You mean that was a flashback to what, the orgasm?”

I felt the heat creep up my face. “Something like that,” I muttered.

He laughed. “You’re joking.”

Oh, how I wish she was.

Basically, Asher’s bite is SUPERORGASMORIFFIC and makes you flail around like a dying fish. For some reason. And now she’s acting like the tracts of land lady, despite the fact that the flashback consisted of tracts of land lady sitting at a table. Anita then asks Jason to put on some underwear.

He grinned. “Why, we slept for,” he glanced at the beside clock, “four hours naked together. Why should I dress now?”

Because you’re a disgusting sex criminal. He distracts Anita by asking about tracts of land lady. It might have something to do with the ardeur? I can’t tell. I’d forgotten how indecipherable Hamilton’s writing style is.

“The woman I’m remembering was quiet in bed, she didn’t jump around a lot, not according to Asher.”


“She could hide it better than I can.”

He laughed out loud. “Are you telling me that all this jumping around is normal for you?”

So, it’s the ardeur? Despite her saying it’s because of SUPERORGASMORIFFIC flashbacks? WHAT IS GOING ON? The ardeur is ‘riding all of us’, or something, and then Jason takes Anita’s drink.

Dude, she had a chunk of her throat ripped out and experienced severe blood loss. You are a terrible person.

Jason then starts complaining that Asher’s never ripped his throat out. Yeah, because it seems so pleasant a thing to happen! Honestly, wouldn’t you all have your throats ripped out for a good orgasm?

No. I’ll stick to the traditional ways, thanks. I don’t particularly enjoy almost dying.

Anita then has another arduer SUPERORGASMORIFFIC fit, even though she could easily stop them. It would appear JC has no sex toys and sees no need for them. He must be incredibly boring in bed. Jason goes to get more bandages because the police were the ones who called. Anita is needed at a crime scene. Jason, being a decent human being for once, says that he’s taking her there and making sure she doesn’t overexert herself.

He then reveals that Nathaniel passed out last night too. Because he can’t handle feeding the ardeur everyday. Because Anita must sleep with as many men as possible.

Obviously, we can’t have a female character choosing polyamory for herself. Nope, it has to be forced on her, like this is a dodgy gangbang porno.

PS, LKH, Anita, have you heard about this latest invention for women?

They’ve only been around well over a hundred years, and might just solve your sexual energy problem. Just sayin’.

Jason then volunteers for a ‘spine-cracking orgasm’. Sounds painful. Anita gives up arguing and tells Jason to just get some bandages for the ‘scrapes’.

“Scrapes hell, if I were human, you’d be taking me to the emergency room. Remember, Anita, you have some of the strength of both a vampire and a werewolf. We can punch our finger through someone’s ribs.”

Why. Why can you do that. It’s not like wolves are super strong. So how can you do that.

“Your cell phone is on the floor on my side of the bed. I dropped it when you started convulsing.”

“I was not convulsing,” I said.

“Oh, sorry, I dropped it when you had your raging, overwhelming, screaming orgasm. Was that better? It sounded better, didn’t it?”

That was meant to be an orgasm? How come it was written as if she was in intense physical pain?

Anita’s phone starts ringing again.

It was Dolph, and he wasn’t happy. While he’d been waiting for me, there had been a second call, to a second crime scene. He was pissed with Jason’s antics, with both crime scenes, and especially, it seemed, with me.

No wonder.

PS. Take a drink every time I said ‘orgasm’, LKH abuses a comma, and if you’re glad to see me back.

PPS. If you’re not glad, then… take drinks anyway. You’re going to need them.

Hey guys,

I know I’ve been away for a while. I can’t really go into specifics – it’s not something I really want to share on teh interwbs – but a member of my family is seriously ill. I don’t really have the emotional energy or time to blog about Anita right now.

Dottie x

A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Cerulean Sins’ chapter fourteen

The door opened and it was Jason. I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to see him. I managed to say, “Help me.” My voice sounded weak and scared, and I hated it, but I also was feeling nauseous and dizzy, and that wasn’t post-coital languor, it was blood loss.

Now that I could see again, I realized I was drenched in blood – and other things – but it was mainly the blood that was worrying me, because it was all mine.

OK, not only is that incredibly stupid – I KNOW YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT THE BLOOD BECAUSE ASHER RIPPED AT YOUR THROAT – but Anita is apparently ‘drenched’ in semen.

Um, no. That is really not possible. Unless JC and Asher have actual hoses for penises, there’s no way Anita is drenched in semen. The average amount of ejaculate is about a teaspoon. Both JC and Asher came once, so the sum total of their spunk is….


Two little spoons of jizz. That’s not very impressive. LKH, porn is not research. It’s wildly inaccurate.

Jason pulls Anita out from under the pile of Asher and JC.

I was nude, he’d just dragged me from a bed where I’d obviously had sex with two men, yet Jason hadn’t made a single quip, or joke. When Jason had this much ammunition but didn’t tease, things were bad.

Maybe he’s just angry at how much you hate the humble comma. Or maybe YOU’RE APPARENTLY DYING OF BLOOD LOSS AND HE UNDERSTANDS THAT NOPE, THIS IS NOT A TIME TO JOKE.

Jason tries to get Anita to some medical help but she stops him.

He stopped moving. “What?”

“I want to remember this.”

“What?” he asked again.

“The way they look together.”

ughghghghghghg Yes, why not stop to admire the sexy when you are dying. Anita Blake – strong independent woman! Jason tries to find out how much blood Anita has lost, which is actual sensible behaviour for once, but Anita is too busy looking at sexy men.

He shifted me so that he could free up a hand to touch my forehead, which seemed silly since I was nude, but we often fall into habit when we’re stressed. You check someone’s temperature on their foreheads, even if they’re naked.

… well, sticking your hands on someone’s tits is an awful, sexual assaulty, way to try and work out someone’s temperature.

“You don’t feel feverish. If anything you feel a little cool.”

No shit. She’s got blood loss. That’s a symptom of blood loss, nimrod. Jason carries Anita to the bathroom and sits her in the bath tub. Um, that’s not how you deal with blood loss. You have to stem the bleeding and then take her to hospital so she can get a transfusion. A quick bath isn’t going to help at all!

The water spilled out of a silver swan’s mouth, which I’d always thought was ostentatious, but hey, it wasn’t my bathroom.

Take this line down, kids. It’s the perfect example of how to kill tension in a scene. When I’m supposed to be worrying about whether Anita is going to die, don’t start blabbering on about silver taps. That are far too ostentatious. It’s a fucking nightclub, not Versailles.

Anita starts getting grumpy that the marble of the bathtub is cold and that she doesn’t want to be naked on cold stone when she’s dying from blood loss as that wound in her neck has not been stemmed or dealt with in any way and is presumably leaking another pint of blood down her neck.

“Why am I so weak?”

Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter. Best in the business, an expert in her field. Understands absolutely nothing about how to deal with vampire bites. How am I supposed to believe that she’s a competent professional when, at every step and turn, she apparently knows nothing about the field she works in?

Jason is going to give her a bath, instead of stopping her bleeding or treating THE BITE WOUND IN HER NECK, and then starts to get naked.

I don’t understand. Why aren’t you taking her to hospital?

Anita is a bit worried but Jason says she either drowns or he throws her over his shoulder. Of course. Those make complete sense. He then slings her over his shoulder. Yeah, that should help that wound in her neck that is still gushing with blood. She notices that his ass is nice but he’s not wearing underwear. Why does he have to be naked? Anita starts to feel sicker, which is a danger sign, but Jason berates her for trying to move out from under the unconscious vampires.

Jason steps into the bath, holding Anita because a bath will heal that chunk of flesh missing from her neck. She starts to fall unconscious and Jason announces she’s been affected by Asher’s vampiric magic. Jason tells her to pass out and she does.

Um, yeah, she’s dead now. That’s how it works. Anita is just bleeding out in a tub. Guess it’ll be easy to clean up.