Dead in the Family by Charlaine Harris.
Yeah, another Sookie Stackhouse / Southern Vampire novel. Since “True Blood” ended (with a whimper), I figure I can knock off the rest of these. Though why do I want to? I’m a damn bitter ender. I stay with things way longer than they deserve… I finish books, I watch TV shows long after the proverbial shark jump… I don’t know why I can’t just walk away, but I can’t.
Anyway, this book was bad. Truly, terribly, seriously bad. Nothing happened until the last five pages. Of a 311 page book. Seriously, Sookie just went from place to place & from person to person feeling vaguely (or very) unsettled. Her inner monologue was insanely repetitive. It’s one thing to rehash the major plot points of previous books in the series as if your audience has no capacity for recall (I’m looking at you, JK Rowling)… it’s entirely another to do it over and over and over again.
The best thing I can say for this book is that it was a quick read.