Dead Awful

Thanks to fabulous show that is True Blood, I have recently started reading the Charlaine Harris series of books that the show is based upon.  Anyone that has watched the show will tell you it's a sexy, irreverent, piece of drama with enough sex, violence & fangs to satisfy any gothic urges you may have.  The books on the other hand . . !  

Well with such snappy titles as Club Dead, Definitely Dead & All Together Dead you can understand why I was a little dubious cracking open the first book (Dead Until Dark in case you were wondering).  I must admit I was pleasantly surprised.  Don't get me wrong, I don't see Charlaine Harris walking off with a Booker prize anytime soon but 'Dead Until Dark' is a perfectly enjoyable bit of fluffy fantasy.  In fact, I was so surprised by how competent the first book was that I got myself the next 4 in the series.  

Oh, what foolish creatures we mortals can be!

The second in the series was readable, barely.  However and about ten pages from the end I had to put it down in shame when this Mills & Boon moment was unleashed from our brooding hero, Vampire Bill:  

'It's lovely, but you may be slightly overdressed for the occasion.'

'What occasion would that be?'

'The best sex of your life.'

Aagggghhhhh! 

 

Why then you ask did I pick up the third book this weekend?  I'm afraid I'm not sure.  Obviously some dark corner of my mind is using this series as a form of self flagellation for some unspoken crime.  Or maybe, just maybe, I'm hoping the books improve.  

That being said I think I'm really done now.  I just can't do it to myself any longer.  I've realised I love myself too much.  Oh and I have Charlaine Harris herself to thank for this revelation.  Nice and early into book 3 Charlaine gave me the push I needed to put the novels down for good.  Thank you Ms Harris.  Oh and in case you're curious, the offending paragraph is below: 

'BIll's Missing,' Pam said, shooting from the conversational hip.

'No, he's not.  He's in Seattle,' I said.  Willfully obtuse.  I had learned that word from my Word-A-Day calendar only that morning, and here I was getting to use it.

Umm yeah, someone might need to have a word with the narrator about what is wrong with this scene!
 

Horny & Confused

A few weeks ago in a very intellectual & heated debate with a friend about 'Angel Men' (don't ask!), I was asked the seemingly straightforward question, "So, what's your type?"

Now, I'm a girl that gets a lot of crushes but that question had me stumped.  You see these seemingly endless crushes of mine range from the beautiful to the downright freakish!  From Senior Citizens to frankly far too young for me to be contemplating.  The thing is I have no control over the direction of these crushes and no idea what is going to attract me.  It could be a voice, a smile, a cheeky glint in the eye, a personality, sense of humor or damn it, lets be honest, just a hot body.  Sometimes I'm left baffled at my own choices & find it almost impossible to defend these little infatuations when pushed.

My husband despairs at some of my more 'unusual' choices.  For him it's quite straightforward.  Jessica Alba.  There we go, that's his answer and it will continue to be his answer until she starts letting herself go and some new younger version comes along. I'm also reminded daily of his penchant for the the young actress by the lovely pictures that seem to have made a home for themselves on our computer (no, this little infatuation doesn't bother me, I'm far hotter than her*). 

For me however, it's not quite so simple.  Maybe I'm fickle or maybe just wired incorrectly, but just one man isn't going to cut it in my little warped world.  My seemingly endless list of past & present crushes include such randoms as, Geordie Johnson, Djimon Honsou, Jared Leto, Shere Khan, Travis McCoy, Stephen Fry, Lenny Kravitz & Zac Effron.

Having considered 'my type' for several weeks I can now confirm that I am absolutely no closer to solving the mystery of my hormones. 

So take heart men, it doesn't matter if you're a hot rocker, tattooed rapper, elderly national treasure, high school musical star, animated tiger or just an average male because some freak is probably scouring the net ogling your Facebook pic as we speak. 

*This particular portion of the post may contain information that's not entirely accurate.