The Bataan Sex March continues with the last Anita Blake novels out yet in paperback.
Incubus Dreams by Laurell K. Hamilton (2005)
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There’s a plot here. I’m sure. I read through all 752 pages of this, the 12th Anita Blake novel, and there were vague hints of a plot toward the end. I think. The rest of the book, though, should have been subtitled, “How I Stopped Worrying and Came to Love Wanton Sex.”
I mean, really. By the end of the first chapter, Anita — erstwhile vampire hunter and current multi-discipline sex queen of St Louis — has boffed two strangers. A few more chapters, a few more strangers. By the end of the book pretty much every lycanthrope or vampire Anita’s run across — certainly every series regular — has gotten down and dirty with her.
There are a few moments where there’s, well, interesting stuff happening. All’s not well with the vampiric Church of Eternal Life, there are some rogue vamps doing Very Bad Things, there’s another powerful vampire doing cunning things, and …
… and, of course, Anita has New Amazing Powers, which lead to New Mystical Complications, even as she continues her steady evolution toward being the Mystic Queen of the Midwest (one must assume).
But enough of that trivial leavening. We’re here for the hot, sweaty, and other-fluidly vampire-necromancer-lycanthrope sex, right? Am I right? Evidently I am. And that’s not to mention frequent polemics on sex, strangers, B&D, S&M, following your bliss, accepting your kinks, and other received wisdom from the woman who can’t decide if she’s being driven to being a slut because of metaphysical compulsion or because it’s fun.
Not that I necessarily have a problem with sex, or books with sex scenes — but, really, fergoshsakes, after a while it gets repetitive. And boring. And repetitive. Most books would be satisfied with a cut scene from when things get hot and heavy to the aftermath. Not Incubus Dreams (or, frankly, most of the recent AB books); we end a chapter just as things are getting hot and heavy — and the next chapter is all about the hot-and-heaviness. At length (which is ironic on multiple levels).
(Note to copy editors: the synonym for “god” you are looking for is “deity.” Not “diety.” No matter how many times you let it be typed that way.)
If I didn’t already have the next book in paperback, I’d have seriously considered giving up. But I did, and it was thin, so …
Micah by Laurell K. Hamilton (2006)
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With Micah I have now finished all the Anita Blake novels that are in paperback (Danse Macabre is still hardcover only). And …
… well, I’m probably exaggerating a bit with the ratings, but in contrast to Incubus Dreams, this is … a masterpiece.
The book is 288 pages, the last 30-odd being a preview of Danse Macabre. And rather than the densely spaced tiny text, this is normal-sized text, double-spaced. It’s like reading a Parker Spenser novel — and it reads nearly as fast. Short chapters — even short sentences — and, wonder of wonders, a plot that doesn’t center on, or even consist primarily of (a) Anita having sex with people, (b) Anita learning she has new and terrible powers.
Well, there’s a bit of that, but it’s a continuation of the previous volume. But most of what we get is a straightforward story, with a limited cast (only some of whom we’ve met), much of which centers around animating a zombie for the FBI. There’s sex, yeah, but that’s just sort of a blip in the middle of things. We learn some interesting stuff about the titular character (and some goofy stuff as well, dealing with how he, like the majority of the men in Anita’s life, is Extraordinarily Well-Endowed).
We get some gunplay. We get some personal conflicts not having to do with vampiric or lycanthropic politics. And we get something that resembles the original novel in the whole series far more than the past several volumes.
I don’t know if all of this was the result of Hamilton suddenly getting some editorial advice, having a contractual obligation to produce a book and limited time or inclination to do so, or if she just had only a short nubbin of a story idea and decided not to embellish it with … well, the seemingly obligatory multiple sex scenes.
This novel (practically a novella) restores my faith in the series, at least to some degree. Decent (well, recommendable) stuff.