I ve been consuming this series at a furious rate, seeing details that I just didn t see on my first pass through I believe that this is the volume where the private investigators show up to question Sookie, and we get an intersection between this series and Harris Lily Bard series When I first read this book, I hadn t been introduced to Lily yet, so this was a fun little detail It may have been the previous volume I m sucking back 2 books per evening right now and they are getting a bit blended in my memory. I guess there are plenty of people in the world who are dying for attention of any kind, and if you treat them like a human being, they read far too much into that What a sad comment on the state of our world. But back to Sookie, I can hardly wait to get my hands on the next volume and see which of this bunch of guys manages to win her attention. I have bitched to the moon and back about how judgmental I think Sookie is as a character and that hasn t changed at all here I know that she is a telepath and therefore hears any number of thoughts that one would not necessarily want to hear but that does NOT give her licence to judge every fucking person who crosses her path Seriously Cut this shit out, Sook We d all like to kill what we don t understand, what scares us, and I powerfully scared Andy Bellefleur.
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His fingers tightened around mine. Someone who was bitten. I am such an idiot. So many of my problems would be solved if I loved Calvin Norris. Not only would Calvin defend me to the death, but so would the other members of the Hotshot clan.
But the thought of it just made me shudder. The windswept open fields, the powerful and ancient crossroads around which the little houses clustered. He was a steady man, was a shift leader at Norcross, a job that came with good benefits. I leaned over and gave Calvin a kiss on the cheek. The hair of his neat beard felt soft. His eyes were steady as he said good-bye. Calvin managed to smile. But sure enough, as Jason and I walked back to the stairs, Dawson was going into the room to check with Calvin.
I debated for a couple of minutes before I decided it would be better if Jason knew what he was up against. In the truck, as he drove home, I relayed my conversation with Calvin to my brother.
He was horrified that his new buddies in the werepanther world could believe such a thing of him. Not just mad, furious. The sniping case had to be solved by the next full moon. And they might come looking for him.
By the next full moon, the shooter had to be in custody. I was certain that no casual glance - in fact, no careful inspection by the naked eye - could reveal anything amiss in this room. I had done the only thing I could, short of standing there to be murdered. Was that what Jesus had meant by turning the other cheek? I hoped not, because every instinct in me had urged me to defend myself, and the means at hand had been a shotgun.
Of course, I should immediately have reported it. My first instinct had been to cover up her visit to my house. Her gun had been fired. I just had to live with that. But I was very sorry about the uncertainty her family was suffering. I wrung out the washcloth and hung it neatly over the sink divider. I dried off my hands and folded the dish towel. That was so much better! Angry with myself, I stomped out to the living room and turned on the television: another mistake.
Just think of the sensation it would cause if the media realized how the sniper was selecting his victims. The news anchor, a solemn African-American man, was saying that police in Renard Parish had discovered other clusters of apparently random shootings in small towns in Tennessee and Mississippi.
I was startled. A serial shooter, here? The phone rang. He was a Were, he was both sexy and hardworking, and I liked him very much. But Alcide had abjured her before she vanished, in a rite that made her invisible and inaudible to him - not literally, but in effect. Can I come to the house? I need to talk to you.
I was betting the new bartender was charming one and all. They were two-natured," I said. Random shootings in small towns. Bullets that match the one recovered from Heather Kinman here. His deep, rumbly voice was even more deliberate than normal. What are you talking about? I hoped like hell that Jack Leeds and Lily Bard Leeds were sound asleep rather than staked out in the woods somewhere with a pair of binoculars.
Alcide hugged me. He always did. And once again I was overwhelmed by the size of him, the masculinity, the familiar smell. Despite the warning bell ringing in my head, I hugged him back. We sat on the couch and half turned to face each other. Alcide was wearing work clothes, which in this weather consisted of a flannel shirt worn open over a T-shirt, heavy jeans, and thick socks under his work boots. His tangle of black hair had a crease in it from his hard hat, and he was beginning to look a little bristly.
He turned it over in his head for a minute. I could follow his thinking. I spent all the. I was willing to forgive her so much, like when she pushed you into the trunk. I looked down at my feet, pushing away the recollection of the desperation, the pain. Him saying it like that, flat out, shocked me. I mean, he stopped, you know? He stopped, when he knew it was me. I stared down at my hands. I had my own load of guilt to carry.
His were narrow and green. What happened? Was anyone in the car with him? His kids are coming back to Shreveport for the funeral, of course.
He knew so many people still stationed at the Air Force base, and he was head of his Neighborhood Watch group and the treasurer of his church, and of course he was the packmaster. I waited. For funerals, we go all out. I could see the thoughts crowding right behind his eyes, wanting to be let out. My old Nova was none too reliable. The silence drew out. I knew Alcide was thinking of kissing me. He leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips.
We regarded each other from a few inches apart. I tried a hot soak in the bathtub, and I shaved my legs until they were perfectly smooth. I painted my toenails and fingernails a deep pink and then I plucked my eyebrows.
Finally, I felt relaxed, and when I crawled into my bed I had achieved peace through pampering.
Dead as a Doornail (Sookie Stackhouse/Southern Vampire Series #5)
Then Sam is shot in the leg and is therefore unable to run the bar. He asks Sookie to go to Fangtasia to ask Eric to lend him a bartender while he is out. Eric sends their new bartender, Charles Twining. Calvin Norris is also shot and seriously wounded, and Sookie learns that other shifters and were-animals are being shot throughout Louisiana. Calvin suspects Jason, based on the theory that Jason is angry at weres for turning him into a werepanther. Known for dispensing their own kind of justice, the real shooter needs to be found before the werepanthers turn on Jason.
Charlaine Harris – Dead As A Doornail
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