A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘Guilty Pleasures’ chapter eleven

She had been about twelve or thirteen when she died. Small, half-formed breasts showed under a long flimsy dress. It was pale blue and looked warm against the total whiteness of her skin. She had been pale when alive; as a vampire she was ghostly.  Her hair was that shining white-blonde that some children have before their hair darkens to brown. This hair would never grow dark.

Oh hi Claudia! I thought fanfiction based on anything connected with Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles was not permitted? I mean, the age thing isn’t from the film as this book was published the year before the film, but an evil child female vampire who acts childishly and mature? Hell-o Claudia expy!

Why does this girl have a male name?

“Well,” I said, “all we need is the theme from Dracula, Prince of Darkness, and we’ll be all set.”

You snark this silly plot twist. You snark good.

Miss Nikky laughs a lot and acts generally in a way supposed to convey that she is very evil and very powerful and ancient, but it seems very contrived and silly. I know she is bad and evil. Don’t try and make it a surprise. Miss Nikky asks Anita to tell how old she is. Anita can’t tell, which presumably means it’s supposed to be a massive shock. So, ancient then, like a thousand or two.

She stood there without moving and opened her mind to me. It felt like she had opened a door that had been locked. Her mind crashed against mine, and I staggered. Thoughts ripped into me like knives, steel-edged dreams. Fleeting bits of her mind danced in my head; where they touched I was numbed, hurt.

So ancient, evil and powerful then. But Anita is powerful enough in her own right to fight Little Miss Nikky’s mind control and forces Nikky out of her head. Anita has worked out that Nikky is about a thousand years old, making the animator about three pages behind the reader.

“Good, animator, we understand each other. You do what we want or I will peel your mind away like the layers of an onion.” She breathed against my face, voice dropping to a whisper. A child’s whisper with an edge of giggling to it. “You do believe I can do that, don’t you?”

I believed.

And I believe that was a terrible threat that wasn’t even vaguely threatening. Who are you trying to intimidate, Shrek?

And there the chapter ends. For no point.


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