A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘The Lunatic Cafe’ chapter thirty five

Anita goes to the hospital alone, as Edward is wanted by the police and bad things might happen if she appears with him (the naga’s room has a police officer outside, a rare example of good police work in these books).

The police officer is a blonde woman.  It’s spelt ‘blond’ in the text. If the officer wishes to be a ftm transgender, then I am all for it; however, I think that Hamilton does not realise that ‘blond’ refers to men and to groups. And I think this woman might end up being rude or mean to Anita.

“See some ID?” She said, real tough, no nonsense.  Had to be a rookie. Only a rookie had that hard-on attitude. Older cops would have asked for ID, but they wouldn’t have tried to make their voices lower.

Yeah, shame on this police officer for doing her job. How dare she!

She took it in her hand and looked at it for a long time. I fought the urge to ask if she was going to be tested later. It never helps to piss the police off. Especially over trivialities.

She finally gave the badge back to me. Her eyes were blue and as cold as a winter sky. Very tough. Probably practised that look in the mirror every morning.

How dare this woman make sure that Anita is actually Anita! And to make sure that the person who skinned the poor naga alive doesn’t come back to do it! I mean, the nerve of this woman to try and get in Anita’s way. She deserves to be fired.

This terrible blight on the police force tells Anita that there has to be a member of the police present when any interview with the naga is conducted. Dolph is on his way and will meet her outside the room. Anita whines and says that a man is missing, she should be let into his room right this instant!

Her eyes went from hard to bored. She was impressed.

I don’t think being frustrated at an annoying bitch being in your face and not listening to what you say and being impressed by her logic are the same thing – or being bored in any way, shape or form. These are all very different emotions. They’re not synonyms.

The officer says she has to wait until Dolph drags his lazy ass here. Anita, predictably, gets in her face and questions the officer’s orders by insinuating that she is stupid.

I started to say something unpleasant and stopped. Officer Kirlin was right. She had her orders, and she wasn’t going to budge from them.

I glanced at her nameplate. “Fine, Officer Kirlin. I’ll just wait around the corner in the patient waiting room.” I turned and walked away before I said something not so nice. I wanted to push my way into the room, pull rank. But I didn’t have any rank. It was one of those times when I was forcibly reminded that I was a civilian. I didn’t like being reminded.

I’m sorry that this woman is being a professional and not letting your childish ass into the room to harass the naga. I’m sorry that you are a civilian and not a police officer. I am sorry that you are constantly stymied by the restrictions of the world. And I am amazed that you worked out Officer Kirlin’s name before you even looked at her name plate.

Two pages into the chapter. 576 words already written. I feel a picspam coming up.

Dolph arrives within about ten lines because Hamilton has no concept of pacing. He asks Anita about the missing people and Anita refuses to talk about it. Dolph points out that it’s obstruction of justice and he could send her to jail. Yeah, I’d like to see that happen. Actually no, I wouldn’t. Anita would probably be queen bitch in prison. Or join the Aryan Sisterhood. Anita just screeches at Dolph about how he’s ‘bullying’ her and Dolph lets it pass. He is officially lacking in balls or ovaries or any personality related organ. Satisfied, Anita purrs about how the ‘naga still being ‘our’ witness’. This series would be more interesting if Anita was an acknowledged sociopath and the world was plotting to destroy her.

A doctor in a white coat with a stethoscope draped over his shoulders like a feather boa opened the door.

Okay, I want to do two things with this sentence. Firstly, I want to cry at how stupid it is. Secondly, I am totally going to steal that description for my Victorian parody novel. ‘Cause ain’t no one going to be taking that as a serious piece of writing.

Officer Kirlin was still at her post, ever vigilant. She gave me her best flinty steel look. It needed work. But when you’re small, blond, female, and a cop, you have to at least try to look tough.


Right, I have to reign it in. I can’t picspam yet. I’m only on page three of nine.

The naga is awake and instantly tells Anita exactly what she wants to know – that some witches drugged him and skinned him. Oh, and the lead witch had ‘ocean eyes’, the least helpful description ever. Oh, and he lavishes praise on Anita for saving him. He lasts long enough to say that he’s not the only one affected and then passes out.

The doctor shoos them all out and then that dick Zerbrowski shows up. He’s been checking out any missing persons cases that might be connected to Anita. The only one he’s found is that of one Dominga Salvador.

I fought the urge to squirm. Domina Salvador was dead. I knew that because I’d seen it happen. I’d pulled the trigger, metaphorically speaking.

Metaphorically speaking.

Metaphorically speaking.

Metaphorically speaking.

No, Anita. You raised an entire cemetery of zombies to tear her apart. That’s not metaphorical. That’s literal. As in, actually happened. It was not a figure of speech in which a term or phrase is applied to something to which it is not literally applicable in order to suggest a resemblance.

You’ve forgotten a murder you did. How dumb are you?

Anita’s beeper goes off and she rushes away from this difficult situation to phone the number. It’s Richard. Louis, the rat professor, has gone missing. He was going to meet Elvira Drew but hasn’t been heard of since. Anita asks whether she should tell the police about the missing shapeshifters and Richard says yes, agreeing to accept responsibility from Marcus for disobeying him. They hang up and Anita realises she didn’t say ‘I love you’.

Insert Chandler Bing esque noise.

Anita phones work, yells at the secretary, and is rude to her boss. She asks if someone was asking about finding a wererat and says that she thinks Elvira Drew set Louis up to get killed. But of course – Elvira had blonde hair, after all. Bert gives in, tells her all the information she wants and lets her off work.

It was a first, Bert giving in.



Anita tells Dolph everything and they all rush off to fight these mean old witches for which there is no evidence that they have done anything or are actually involved. Wheeeeee.

Anyway, I promised a picspam. Lately, I’ve been feeling that my spams are not all inclusive – not everyone is interested in men, after all. So here’s an all female picspam for the first time here on Dottie Smith’s Verbal Menagerie.

Now we are all sexuality inclusive here. Unlike the Anita Blake books.


4 thoughts on “A review of Laurell K. Hamilton’s ‘The Lunatic Cafe’ chapter thirty five

  1. Awyeah ladies, thank you!

    Bored = impressed…? How…?

    The eyes end up being how she solves the case, if I remember correctly. Really.

    • The ocean eyes? Eugh, give me a break. It sounds like a clue from a Mills & Boon novel.

      I’ve always thought boredom was a sign that you were really unimpressed with something – so unimpressed you can’t be bothered to try and even fake an interest.

      I hope I made a good selection. It was kind of weird going try to work out ‘well, if I were a homoromatic asexual, which women would I think were sexy?’. But Deborah Ann Woll? Just, UNF.

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