It was bad enough I was powerless and spending the day with a bunch of people who’d nuke me from orbit if they found out what I really was. But now there was going to be an asshole present who had both the knowledge and cause to rat me out.
Books are funny things. Sometimes you know you just love the hell out of one and it even makes you come up to people in the supermarket, preaching like a greasy-haired grifter trying to pay off the loan for his tour bus about how wonderful it is (the book, not the grifting … or both, your call). With other books you're like, I'm not sure how much this one is doing it for me. You know, it's different than I expected and it makes me feel itchy in the underpants of my mind. And then despite all this, you find yourself reading WAY too late into the night (or better said, early into the morning) and then even catch yourself getting up only a few hours later to keep on reading this book that by all indications you weren't so sure about (see ref. brain undies). Because now you're hooked and fvck everything else going on in life because you have to find out if Chris and Cass and Bent and the twins and more are doing okay. So yeah, as you've probably guessed this was one of those latter books to me.
…I was following a naked woman through the woods, something that was rapidly becoming a common occurrence in my life.
Gualtieri really surprised the hell out of me with this one. I mean, from my Masters of Bill-o-logy studies, I knew that the witches could be real a-holes when they wanted to be (even though the author insisted to me in a private note that this is NOT the same universe)(hint: I still think he's wrong about that!). But dayamn! Snotty little farts when they get their robes all bunched up in their cracks, aren't they? Sure, we still have some grade A werewolf stuff going on - plus that pleasant sense of She-Hulk running around in her bra and panties to boot (trust me on this). But the local Doctor Strange folks really shat in the proverbial Christmas pudding, didn't they? No, I won't be discussing Scarlet Witch-y stuff here so don't even start…
This day, Christmas of all days, had been a nightmare. And it wasn’t over.
I think it's this latter point kind of threw me for a loop. Christmas stories - and yes, this should SO count as one - are generally hit or miss affairs. Yes, I worship and adore DM.Guay for bringing us the classic that is "Hell for the Holidays" and will forevermore thank Tim Burton for bringing us "The Nightmare Before Christmas", but the list doesn't go on very much beyond that. So yeah, when I realized that this story of Gualtieri's was going to be centered around my very least favorite holiday of the year, well, maybe the adrenaline rush didn't start at page 1. But friends: I was wrong! And for that I am truly… well, nothing really. I just kept reading is all.
He had a shocked look on his face and a bisected belly,
then his guts all spilled out like a bowl full of jelly.
This 2nd full chapter of the "Bent" series is just as thrilling, amazing, funny and generally whack-a-doodle as what I've read up to this point! It may sound all broken record-y, but as usual, Gualtieri nails the characters, the emotions, the tension and the cultural references to please any fan of this genre and any others, too! And knowing that I've got at least two books to go after this only makes me all the more happy! Like opening gifts on Christmas morning… that hopefully don't melt my face off once I see what's inside! Sure, I got the spilled beans bit (you'll know it when you see it) because I was paying attention... but the other surprises and the wild reveals and the twists and the … oh my, I need to sit down now! But really only because I want to start Book 3 right away not because I may have literally just swooned there!
“You’ve been a naughty girl,” Asshole the elf said…“It’s nothing but coal for you.”
So y'all be good now, ya hear? Because needless to say, something is definitely watching you … sorry, scrying you! And whoever or whatever it is knows if you've been bad or good, especially if you use foul language like “Póg mo thóin!” So be "good" for Valdemar's - or Brigid's if you prefer - sake!