Equally as terrible as the first book, if not worse. Sookie continues to have as little personality as previously, alternating between lusting cheaply after anyone male who crosses her path, indulging herself in weeping sessions over the pain of her unasked- for super-abilities and talking about clothes. Luckily her vampire boyfriend, despite being 150+ years old, is dumbstruck by the sight of a blonde in a thong and therefore continues to have regular unpleasant sex with her, whilst pimping her mind-reading abilities out to his boss. The only notable thing this book achieves is to include one of most awful sex scenes ever written. If you don't see summat wrong with this then there's some part of your mind or soul missing:
"He cleaned me below; he kissed me above.
"You smell like him" was the only thing he said. He proceeded to erase that smell and replace it with his own."
This same scene begins with Bill, who has spent the last few weeks being deliberately seen with another woman, suddenly assaulting Sookie in her home. He then proceeds to tell Sookie to open her legs for him, and dismisses her request that he be gentle as impossible. Luckily for him Sookie has never heard of rape, and spends the scene being pleased that the bedsheets are nice and clean.
Outside of this unpleasantness are two plots, one clumsily wedged inside the other. The first, split between the first and last quarters of the book, is a lazy murder plot with an obvious solution, which occasions Sookie having to attend an orgy. Having obtained an invitation by standing around doing nowt until someone asks her, she then trots along in the company of Eric the Vampire, who is dressed as an outdated gay stereotype for plot reasons and in order that Sookie can comment on various parts of his body repeatedly. Sookie makes a few comments on the underwear of various participants, and then the Deus ex Machina arives. As her "character" and "motivation" were totally explained in Chapter 2, at a point before it was physically possible to have any interest in her, this completely dispenses with any suspense or interest whatsoever.
The middle section of the book is taken up with some more descriptions of Sookie’s clothes and a dull kidnap plot featuring a self-hating vampire whose ramblings on the nature of good and evil, innocence and guilt and whether Sookie or anyone else “deserves” life or death are brought up short by the following:
"I am not evil, and I don't want to die."
"When was the last time you were in church?" He was issuing me a challenge.
"About a week ago. And I took Communion, too." I was never happier to be a churchgoer, because I couldn't have lied about that.
"Oh." Godfrey looked dumbfounded.
"See?"
Godfrey does indeed see. Presumably if Sookie had not been a regular church-goer he would’ve been happy to see her burn at the stake. Which I can only assume Harris would consider reasonable, since she sees no need for further debate.
The high-point of the drama comes when, having escaped from what even she realised was a rape and survived a massive car crash, Sookie discovers that her hair has become disarranged during her travails. Her mortification knows no bounds:
"Oh, no," I said, absolutely horrified. "Oh, no." My hair had been flattened by the wig, and then combed out with my fingers, so it was a disaster. My hands went up to it, helplessly and painfully, and my mouth shook with suppressed tears.
Luckily the man she is currently nearest to and therefore lusting after forgives her this social faux pas. After this horror she returns to Bon Temps to conclude the abovementioned murder mystery.
I will say this for Sookie. If nothing else, her shallowness runs deep.