Dead To The World by Charlaine Harris (Sookie Stackhouse #4)

I’ve done it. I’ve done it. I’ve done it again.

Only weeks have gone since I did it before and I have only bloody gone and done it again.

That’s right, I’ve stopped effing mainstreaming with grown up books for serious losers and slipped gently underwater like a rotting corpse in a cute bath and tenderly penetrated my way into another Sookie Stackhouse novel.

And you know what? I fucking loved it.

I don’t expect any of you to understand the pleasure and the joy that can be found in these horned up vampire sex novels if you aren’t already intrigued by them.

They’re horned up vampire sex books. A hot telepathic waitress meets hot vampires from all over the world, hot werewolves, hot shapeshifts who turn into dogs, hot witches, hot fairies, hot other magical creatures too, I’m sure.

In this one Sookie Stackhouse finally fucks a second hot vampire after a messy break up with her previous vampire lover, but while this vampire – a more powerful, older, more experienced vampire – is suffering from amnesia (due to a spell cast by a horny witch) so is much less sinister than usual, though just as damn hot.

Is Sookie taking advantage of our boy Eric Northman, or is his amnesia – without the loss of his vampire powers – merely making him more of her equal?

Who knows? Who cares?

It’s richly sketched, it’s super exciting, it’s silly and playful and the characters are deep and humane and the story is fun.

Yes, it’s great.

But – and this is fucking book FOUR of this hot vampire sex book series – it still leaves an ESSENTIAL mystery unresolved, which is why I just have to keep reading: I still don’t know if – in the world of Charlaine Harris – vampires ejaculate blood. She keeps us on our toes as readers. I have to know the answer. I have to read more.

Yes yes yes please.

True fan of the true blood!