Shadowknight12

1. What the fuck are you women carrying in your purses if a fucking GUN is hard to find??? BRICKS?! And it's not an easily misplaced Derringer, it's an actual handgun, a 'Hi-Power' one, even! How the holy bejeezus do you struggle to find THAT?. 2. We may have... different definitions of 'cool.' At least you gave me one of the best news of this entire thread. So thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.

THIRD BOOK: GUILTY PLEASURES, BY LAURELL K. HAMILTON. *checks number of pages left* Suddenly, I feel like breaking into a song... "Oooh, oooh, halfway there, oooh, oooh, living on a prayer! Take my hand and we'll make it, I swear..." Chapter Seventeen: 'No woman can find anything in her purse in under twelve minutes. It's a rule.' REALLY, MARY SUE? BECAUSE I THOUGHT A BIG-ASS GUN WOULD BE PRETTY HARD TO MISS. Also, we didn't need to know your weight or how much you can benchpress. I try to rebuild my Willing Suspension of Disbelief and you keep shattering it! Is that any way to treat a reader? For shame! Gun talk, fashion talk, I suppose I should be grateful for the attention to detail... ... Species names? What the fuck? What the fucking fuck, fuckwad? ARE WE ON A BIOLOGY COURSE AND I MISSED IT? HOLY SHIT! HOLD THE FUCKING HORSES! HOLD THE MOTHERFUCKING STALLIONS! Is that what I think it is? Are we, perhaps, experiencing, at last, SOME VALID CONCERN OVER MORAL ISSUES?! You must be fucking kidding me! At last some shred of attention shone towards philosophy, ethics, the laws of the universe... and not about big-dicked body-builders1. And just as it comes, it goes. And we're back to six-four, broad shoulders and college-athlete-figured men. Sigh. Too good to last. Ah, slimeball boss. Classic. Truly, people in Anita's universe come in three flavours: Psychopath, whiny bitch and vapid idiot. Sometimes (as it is Anita's case), a rather poorly-bred combination of all three. Slimeball boss is clearly standing firmly in 'sociopath' territory. But then, I suddenly have a shred of respect for him. Because Anita says he's not nice and doesn't give a fuck, and it goes against the grain of society. Good, because society in Anita's universe SUCKS. And then he takes a shit on ethics, skids off sociopath into full-blown psychopath and we're left with vague disgust. Lovely, Mary Sue. Lovely2. Badass confrontation that ends in laughter? Yeah, that's definitely not a shared psycho moment... Veredict: Idly wondering if Mrs. Hamilton over there will ever introduce a likeable character. Chapter Eighteen: Ugh, slimeball coworker. Your universe SUCKS, Mrs. Hamilton. And then we're apparently told that he sees vampires as 'fanged people' which Mary Sue disagrees with. Interesting, how she eventually switches from killing vampires to fucking them silly. Must be all that 'change' politics have promised us. And we see Philip again. I think I'll call him blood junkie. And now we're treated to dry, forced flirting with him, which fails because Anita has the innate allure of a dead cactus and blood junkie couldn't flirt his way out of being gang-raped. Also, I honestly can't tell if you're halfway decent or abnormally lousy at male psychology. Because that last part just confused me. Veredict: I can only wish you had been more attractive, Mrs. Hamilton, so that you had spent your life sucking cocks instead of writing garbage. Chapter Nineteen: Awww, Mary Sue hurt blood junkie's feelings, boo hoo hoo. I do hope you fucking keep your end of the bargain and give us a nice, logical explanation for why blood junkie does what he does. You're rather awful at justifying your characters' actions, you atrocious author. "Nothing is more appealing than a handsome man who is uncertain of himself." Have you ever met a handsome man who is uncertain of himself, Mrs. Hamilton? Thought so. Ugh, now you have blood junkie tagging along. "She's a wisecracking empty shell, he's addicted to being bitten like a steak! They fight crime look for clues! Veredict: Starting to lose the will to live. Chapter Twenty: Things finally, finally start to get interesting. In Chapter 20. Jesus. Not much to snark about here that hasn't been covered earlier. Blood junkie actually sees the reality of his situation, even if Fridge Logic hits you and makes you wonder why would vampires shack up with poor, malnourished people. Veredict: Recovering my will to live... Chapter Twenty-One: Hm, so things start to make sense. Freak parties, awkward personal conversations, mhm. You know what I think of you, Mrs. Hamilton? I think that you used to be a very naïve and innocent person who was exposed to the 'dark side' of the world and just couldn't quite get over it. Your emphasis on innocent people being misled by dark forces reveals that aspect of your psyche quite plainly. Fridge Logic moment: If this ex-cop vamp is so pissed at being a vamp, why doesn't he kill himself? Pussy. Ooh, more politics, that was interesting. Thankfully it didn't end with musings on the male anatomy. Veredict: At least it's something worth reading at last. Chapter Twenty-Two: Ugh, Mrs. Hamilton, stop it with the men. Just stop it. You're turning me exclusively straight here. Or not even that, if women like you are anywhere nearly as common as your book sales suggest... Eh, I suppose the interaction is filling, if fake-tasting. Kind of like margarine. I hate margarine. Ah, finally we see in-depth vamp/blood junkie psychology... only fucked up because they just HAD to connect Anita's nemesis with her new helper. Real smooth, Mrs. Hamilton. Real smooth. How did Ronnie know where to call, at this exact time? Anita could have been anywhere! *shakes head* You really are lazy, Mrs. Hamilton... Oooh, foreshadowing. Ten bucks says it's Edward behind the attacks. Anyway, nice convo, a little exposition behind Anita's life (at last! Some background!), I guess I shan't complain too loudly. Veredict: Passable. Chapter Twenty-Three: Scarf around her neck in the kind of hot weather Mary Sue has been describing for the entirety of the book? You bet your sorry ass she's hiding bite marks. Ah, more unrealistic unreality from Mrs. Hamilton. Are we seriously expected to believe that Mary Sue stays in such a great shape despite the junk food she eats, merely because she jogs and goes vampire hunting? Yeah, right. Yes, Edward the intruder. Remember him? He threatened to torture you, you stupid bitch. All right, woman. Listen up: You have to face a superior foe, right? Someone you can't hope to take on a fair fight? You fight dirty. You use traps. You aim for his balls with rusty barbed wire and napalm. Sigh. Or you just play the victim for cheap drama and hope that us readers will remain self-deluded about the true reason you'll eventually win: Plot Armor. Yeah, I love how you tell us all about panty hose and nail polish, make up and other useless things, but your brain isn't thinking about setting up traps for Mr. Asshat. Your priorities are amazing, woman. And we're back to thinking about Edward and not doing a damn thing about him. Cute. Veredict: Less fetishizing outfits, more Saw movies thinking. Chapter Twenty-Four: Honey, when a man wears leather and a fishnet shirt, especially when you yourself realise he's gone from flirt to hustler, you doubt his sexuality. Simple as that. As an aside, psychiatrists do not feel sorry for the poor unfortunate. That's once again your painful naïveté shining through, Mrs. Hamilton. UGH. UGH. UGH. No, no. No. Wrong. Mrs. Hamilton, you're just fucking wrong. "It can lead to awkwardness, to sex, or to fear, depending on the man and the situation." You know what? I'm just not going to bother. There are so many layers of fail and wrong there that I will simply slam my head into the wall on my right and move on. There. Blargh awful porny sex talk. Spare me oh lord, spare me this madness! Spare me this cheap fake noir flirting. You can't find this poorly-written shit on a fanfic, Mrs. Hamilton. Twelve-year-olds write better stuff than you. hskjhsfdk sltn ytioj kopoyutoy kjopfkjpfghfghfgjky ryukkgfnmil dfsjgiojd n,okhpo gs3. Now, the whole 'nursing home next to a cemetery' definitely brought a smile to my face. Like a shot of whiskey after that revolting mushiness. Blood junkie fails at coming off at sexy. He comes off as a little slut with a fucked up sanity and a woobie story to justify it. Also, I don't buy the straight talk. The only gaydar he's not pinging is yours, Mrs. Hamilton. Oh, good, Mary Sue doesn't buy it either. At least she's not as retarded as I thought. Forced poem, bad attempt at drama. Veredict: I need some fucking coffee. COMING NEXT: FUCKING SHIT, WHEN WILL IT END?! 1: Have you ever seen a body-builder's dick, Mrs. Hamilton? I doubt it. If the steroids didn't shrivel it already, most of the time it looks tiny due to having been originally proportioned to a much smaller body. 2: I'm picking up, apparently, something about 'secrets' and 'darkest dreams.' I can only hope this isn't foreshadowing the 'Vampire Humper' thing. 3: Translation: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! *deep breath* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! *deep breath* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Bad writing! Bad writing! Mushy mushy disgusting feelings ew ew ew ew ew ew!

THIRD BOOK: GUILTY PLEASURES, BY LAURELL K. HAMILTON. Fifty-seven... pages... must... fight... the urge... to slit... wrists... Chapter Fourteen: Boring, boring, OOH FLASHBACK IN THE MIDDLE OF A CHAPTER FOR NO REASON AT ALL! QUICK GUYS, LET'S STROLL DOWN MEMORY LANE WITH MARY SUE! Oooh spooky threats, badass showdown promise. Allow me to roll my eyes at how fake it all is. You're awful at setting the mood, Mrs. Hamilton. Stick to fisting yourself and leave writing to professionals. "I don't hate vampires. I kill them because it's my job. I also have no personality and simply do what the author tells me to. Please kill her before she turns me into a sex-crazed slut. Oh, wait..." "It can't just be a job, Anita. There's got to be a better reason than that." "I'm afraid of them. It's a very natural human trait to destroy what frightens us." "Most people spend their lives running from the things they fear. You run after them. That's crazy." "I know, but SHE makes me do it. I don't know why she makes me do all these stupid, crazy things. It's not HER the one that gets beaten to a bloody pulp for it! Right now, she's making me have this inner monologue that makes no sense! She wants to make me sound badass but she just makes me sound like I have no reasons for what I do!" "You poor thing, she can't even come up with a good excuse for the things she puts you through..." Veredict: Anita herself, paraphrased here, says it all. Chapter Fifteen: You wax poetically about how it feels to take a beating, but you can't be bothered to explain why you do the things you do? Oh, Anita, you fucked up bitch. And someone's been in your apartment. Isn't your life just lovely? Maybe it would stop sucking so hard if you started taking shit seriously. "Crouched down, I was a lot shorter than chest-high." NO, REALLY?! YOU MUST BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! GET OUTTA HERE! So we're introduced to a new character, Edward. That name sounds vaguely familiar. I'll call him 'asshat' because I instantly dislike him. The whole 'he had no conscience, he was the perfect killer' thing might have had something to do with it. If he ends up being the werewolf Anita bangs after femboy, I'll be seriously, seriously pissed. Because he's also psychopathic (surprise surprise, Mrs. Hamilton, I do believe I've identified your type) and look at that, he's just threatened to torture Anita until she gave him the information he wants. What a wholesome, stand-up guy. I love him already1. Mary Sue, dear, the crucifix can't be a cool metal against your skin, since one of the fundamental properties of any metal is the ability to conduct heat. So unless you took it off (which you've stated many, many times you absolutely never do), it actually can't feel cool. And you sleep with a stuffed penguin if someone tries to kill you. I actually think that this, right there, was the most realistic aspect of the character in the entire book, thus far. I'm pretty sure it won't be mentioned ever again. Veredict: Edward must die. Chapter Sixteen: "I could taste my heart in my throat." More synaesthesia, with the utter lack of logic that characterizes you. We all know this is a dream and you fucking SUCK at dream imagery. This is why you research this sort of thing instead of simply writing a scene that looks cool in your head. And we see the best friend at last. I read a scene in one of the books where she gets flanderized into a jealous bitch. Poor Ronnie, we hardly knew ye. Ugh stupid banter witless banter make it go away... And it ends, at last. Poorly. Veredict: Someone kill me before I do it myself. COMING NEXT: IT'S THE BOOK THAT DOESN'T END. IT GOES ON AND ON, MY FRIENDS. 1: And by this, I actually mean 'I hope he dies from papercuts on his dick.'

THIRD BOOK: GUILTY PLEASURES, BY LAURELL K. HAMILTON. Twenty-nine measly pages? Out of 197? I don't think I'm going to make it... Chapter Eight: Ugh, Aubrey is such a prissy little bitch. Maybe his last boyfriend dumped him because he was such a drama queen. At least femboy manages to put Mary Sue in her place. Taunting the PMSing bitch who almost killed you is what we call in the academic circles, 'a fucking dumb idea' Anita. Also, when the femboy tells you he hasn't fed, plus he's been ordered not to, YOU WORRY. And you don't believe it when he 'swears' things to you. IT'S A FUCKING LIE. Also, a midnight sky is black, not dark blue. I don't know what kind of shit you're snorting, but it's damaging your writing, Mrs. Hamilton. Ugh, your attempts at sexual tension are so clumsy, you sound like a teenager. Having to kiss because the police might pull you over? Seriously? Whatever happened to holding hands and giggling like an idiot? Surely you can do that, at the very least. But no, you have to set up the romance between Mary Sue and femboy and this kiss is, once again, brought to you by the letter I1. Also, the slap slap kiss mechanic you have going on is so poorly executed I have read better written fan fiction. "A sound that you could feel with your hands." Do tell me, dear writer, what exactly do you mean by this nonsense? I understand synaesthesia is a well-used stylistic resource, but usually it is done in a logical way. This hints at the ravings of a drug addict. Oh lovely, Mary Sue comes with an inbuilt power meter2. And then she gets smacked around. Yes, I enjoyed it, I'll admit it. Veredict: Anita being slapped around saved this chapter. Chapter Nine: I foresee that I will say this many, many times, Mrs. Hamilton, but voices are not solid objects. They are not sheets. If you fancy yourself a synaesthetic person, do try to make some bloody sense. Oh, no. Oh nononono, I don't like where this is going. Mary Sue is on the first step towards becoming femboy's slave? Ugh, talk about the plot forcing a romance between two obviously incompatible characters...3; 4 Anita, bitch, you're thick. They're practically spelling it out for you, and you still 'don't understand.' Fine, you just got smacked around, but still. Pay some attention! It's not like they're, oh I dunno, TELLING YOU THAT YOUR LIFE HAS TAKEN A COMPLETE TURN. Also, your lesbian tendencies are showing, Mrs. Hamilton, when you describe femboy in such luscious, effeminate details. And great, cramming romance into the book with no logical basing. Femboy, little darling, weren't you just being bitchy at her for being a vampire hunter? And now you suddenly like her? Are you on your period, honey? Veredict: Everyone in this universe behaves like a PMSing woman or has absolutely no personality to speak of. Chapter Ten: Wererats out of nowhere! Now this is what we call, in the business, an "ASS PULL."3 Nice try at corny one-liners, Mrs. Hamilton, but I thought I told you to stop smoking old noir films. Charred cellulose is bad for your lungs. Oh, rape implications. Exactly what we needed. Wererats, summoned out of thin air, coming to rape the heroine for no apparent reason.3 Also, way to establish them as bad guys with the whole 'eating a rat' and 'rapetastic intentions.' Ah, so they're sent by the mysterious Russian vampire. This explains... absolutely nothing. Why keep her waiting if she was so important? Also, way to go on the 'small penis rapist' thing. As if we hadn't seen THAT before.5 And well, at least you defended yourself. There's that. Oooh, I actually like your descriptions of the rat fights. FINALLY SOMETHING INTERESTING. God. Hm, obviously your taunt worked, Anita. It's called 'Plot Armor' and you're wearing it. You can get messed up, but you can't die. A rat swarm? Death. Killing/injuring the leader? Tough fight, but winnable. And good lord woman, stop it with the witty bullshit. You are not witty. Deal with it! "Apparently I was being rescued, not that I had need of it." --> May I remind you that you spent the entire chapter calling femboy's name? That you made a joke about wishing to be rescued by vamps? If this was supposed to be sarcastic, your delivery needs work, woman. Ugh. So Nikolaos is a sadist. Way to get someone to do your dirty work for you. By making them your enemy in the process. How is it that you made it this far, again? And enough with the witless repartee! Veredict: Anita's getting her hand bitten was the only highlight of this chapter. That is a very, very sad thing. Chapter Eleven: "Brownish ivory." Inventing colours now, are we, Mrs. Hamilton? And ugh, you have a fetish for exaggerating beauty. I swear, some authors simply MUST write about an entire race of beautiful being that beautify people simply by being around them.6 Spare me the jokes. For the love of all that is holy, SPARE ME THE JOKES. *twitches* You're not funny, Mary Sue. You're just grating on the reader's nerves. And your bravado would be far, far better if you stopped trying to taunt and mock people who can kill you, Mary Sue. Not because they will kill you (you have Plot Armor, remember?) but because we, the readers, know that you're just abusing your protagonist status. Be a good girl and stop antagonising the villains, or we'll start rooting for them. And just as planned, the mindrape scene was satisfying because it got our dumbass protagonist what she deserved. Veredict: Don't dish it if you can't take it. Chapter Twelve: Listen to me, little protagonist. Snark to a villain while helpless gets you pain. Save it to use it when they can't hurt you back. Bitch. The zombie is interesting, I suppose. The ramifications, however, won't be fully explored7 and that disappoints me. Also, Mary Sue, for someone who's apparently used to dealing with all sorts of dark people, criminals, vampires, lycanthropes, ghouls and whatever else you're not telling us, you're surely ridiculously naïve. Did you seriously think nobody was going to raise the dead for information? Especially after torture? You silly girl. Hm, I admit I did enjoy the rest of the chapter. ... What the fuck is wrong with me? Oh, right, it was an action scene, something finally interesting. Hm. Veredict: Maybe there's still hope for this wretched series. Chapter Thirteen: I will patiently wait for the author's trip to finish so that she can explain what the fuck is going on. If this acid trip isn't properly explained soon, I'll be fucking pissed. Biceps bigger than your waist, six-three, not enough fat to great a cake pan: It doesn't matter if it's hyperbole, you shattered once again my Willing Suspension of Disbelief with your insatiable vagina, Mrs. Hamilton. I'm astonished Anita doesn't follow your example and gives herself a good old 'Southern Salute' like the kind you surely gave yourself while writing the scene... Good god I thought the slavish description had stopped with that one paragraph. But no, apparently you liked this guy. Probably got yourself off more than once thinking about this one. And hoo boy, more than that, too, because Anita, injured more times than I honestly care to remember, bleeding and IN PAIN, stops to ask how much does he benchpress. Classy. And then more wit is exchanged. I think you watch far too many cheap movies, Mrs. Hamilton. Veredict: Dear author, I'd tell you that you need to get laid, but since I know the future of this series, I'm quite confident there's not enough cock in the world to satisfy you. COMING NEXT: MORE SNARK AFTER A MUCH NEEDED BREAK. 1: OF IDIOT. 2: Why yes, she's over 9000. In kilofails, of course. 3: This is, in case it's not immediately fucking obvious, VERY BAD WRITING. 4: Also, Anita, he's fucking gay. He takes it up the ass. HE WEARS LACE! IN PUBLIC! AND IT'S NOT A COSTUME! Girl, you just don't have what it takes to satisfy him. 5: If the rape is displayed in a negative tone, the guy is ugly, evil and small-dicked. If the rape is supposed to be erotic (why???) the guy is brutish and has an enormous dong. FACT. 6: The question is, of course, WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP BUYING THIS CRAP?! 7: Because you're an awful author and your brain is too full of cock to realize it.

LMAO, nonono, I meant *I* got a Twilight flashback. It was a trigger.

THIRD BOOK: GUILTY PLEASURES, BY LAURELL K. HAMILTON. I continue through this orgy of pain and snark. HOPEFULLY SOMEONE IS READING THIS. Chapter Four: Spelling mistakes. This is just amazing. Well, fine. You get SOME bonus points for not hiding the ugly truth about vampire bites. You aren't afraid to talk about scars, so you get a tiny bit of grudging respect from me. BUT YOU BETTER NOT BE TURNED ON BY SCARS1. And then a strip tease. If your sex scenes are going to be like this, lady, we'll have a problem2. This isn't hot at all. ... Okay, fine, I get it now. It wasn't supposed to be hot at all. It was supposed to be very disturbing, and once again, tiny grudging bit of respect because you manage a half-decent reaction from the reader3. And then you went and fucked it all up with your (AND I FUCKING QUOTE, HOLY MOTHER OF SHIT!): "The vampire was tall with high cheekbones, model-perfect, sculpted. He was too masculine to be beautiful, and too perfect to be real."4 Ugh. I want to retch. Also, I can tell that you dislike body hair, Mrs. Hamilton. I will keep that in mind5. Creepy vampire feeding scene6. If done with intent to disturb: Decent. If done with intent to arouse: FUCK YOU. You fail, and it shows. The banter with the femboy is flat and makes me shake my head. Noir again, Mrs. Hamilton? The action scenes were kind of all right, so maybe this awful series isn't completely doomed. Veredict: I will be charitable, assume it was done with the intent to disturb and actually leave a chapter on a positive note. Ah, self-delusion, what would I do without you? Chapter Five: Anita was 'looking for clues'? What the fuck are you writing, Mrs. Hamilton? A children's book? Firstly, we speak of such things as 'evidence' and secondly, giving us a rough idea of what the fucking fuck could you possibly look for? In case your addled little brain forgot7, you haven't told us practically anything about Anita's world other than 'vampires exist' and 'Anita can raise the dead.' "He was six-eight and built like a wrestler." I sense your vagina quivering from this far, Mrs. Hamilton. Thank you for shattering my Willing Suspension of Disbelief so that you can get a quick orgasm. Always nice to see where your priorities are at. EXPOSITION. YES FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. AT LAST THE AUTHOR DEIGNS TO EXPLAIN HOW HER MOTHERFUCKING WORLD WORKS. Took you merely 19 bloody pages of asinine nothingness, you cunt. Aaaaand then you start fucking with realism. "Whole cemeteries emptied, every one of them a ghoul"? Yeah, right. Do a little research before writing, Mrs. Hamilton. Your readers will appreciate it. And we close with our Mary Sue being wanted by the entire squad of men she works with. Sigh. Veredict: Too little, too late. It gets the hose. Chapter Six: More inane banter between Mary Sue and femboy, one that finally, finally begins to skirt morality issues. And then it gets dropped. Bitch. Yes, yes, Anita, we get it, your cross is your woobie blanket. "This couldn't be happening. No one was that beautiful."4 Anita, Anita, Anita, Anita, we're all obsessed with Anita. Wait. I have a friend called Anita. Oh no. Now I'll think of this literary monstrosity whenever I see her. Fuck. Fucking fuckers fuck. Ah, crap, why didn't I realize this sooner? Shit. Dear stupid protagonist: You're in a vampire strip club, in a vampire district, surrounded by powerful vampires (by your own admission), AND YOU PLAY ALONG INSTEAD OF GETTING THE FUCK OUT? If you had a shred of a plausible reason to stay (one of your friends is a blood addict, the other one has just been forever bespelled by a vampire hypnotist, they're both doomed BY YOUR OWN ADMISSION), I would have understood. But no, you had to pick up the Idiot Ball. You stupid bitch. And then you get your just desserts, almost getting eaten by the fucking vampire you chose to go after FOR NO REASON AT ALL. In a horror movie, that was the moment where everybody is saying "DON'T OPEN THE DOOR!" and now we're all facepalming because you almost became vamp food. And also, for someone who was apparently hyper badass (called The Executioner, even!), you sure fight like a frightened schoolgirl with a letter opener. If Anita had been a normal human, that scene would have actually rocked, because it would have meant that she stood against overwhelming odds and prevailed by the skin of her teeth, and came out shaken. But you, my retarded writer, ruined it by giving her a rep and mysterious reanimator powers. Veredict: Too stupid for words. Chapter Seven: Yes, femboy, she doubts your word. You're a sociopath who has just manipulated her into doing your dirty business and got her friend mentally enslaved to a powerful vampire. If you are genuinely surprised, then perhaps you may wish to remove the dildo from your ass, I do believe it's reaching into your fucking brain. Vampire posture play, not fooling anyone, both are probably die-hard bottoms, blah blah blah, ominous Russian master vampire, mhm, revealing a plot twist we saw a MILE AWAY, Les Yay moment8... and we're done? Whew. Veredict: Someone get me the Count from Sesame Street, please, we need more realistic vampires up in this bitch... COMING NEXT: TAKE A WILD GUESS, BITCH. 1: Because I'll know. And then you get the lash. You kinky bitch. 2: Mainly, that I'll have absolutely nothing to look forward to in this series. 3: Bitch, you better not be turned on by this weird kinky shit... 4: TWILIGHT FLASHBACK TWILIGHT FLASHBACK TWILIGHT FLASHBACK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 5: Displease me and I will harass you with pornography involving VERY hairy men. Hopefully that will turn you away from slash. 6: You get points for originality there, I'll give you that. 7: Huffing glue will do that to your brain. 8: Nice threat, though. A bit forced, but oh well.

THIRD BOOK: GUILTY PLEASURES, BY LAURELL K. HAMILTON. All right, here I go. Took the necessary precautions, which are mainly 'steel myself' and 'make sure you start with the first book.' I'm told the first few aren't so bad. Ugh, what am I getting myself into...? Summary: Read the wikipedia page, you lazy bastard. Chapter One: All right, Mrs. Hamilton, let's get this shit rolling up in this bitch. Word. You are... decent with details, if a bit on the shallow side (I see a lot more emphasis placed in form rather than substance), but I suppose I shouldn't protest too much. Moving on... so you raise the dead. Intriguing. Despite this being a first-person narration, freely ejaculating exposition about the nature of the universe you live in1, I don't see you contemplating the ethics regarding the reanimation of the deceased. I do verily hope you explore this in future chapters. Allow me to say, Mrs. Hamilton, that you FAIL at pacing exposition correctly. I am shaking my head at you in disappointment. The details you're spewing out, meant to tease and intrigue the reader, merely leave him2 confused and full of questions. Choosing other, more relevant aspects to showcase in the first chapter would have been advisable. Also, apparently your main character is the best at what she does, EVEN WHEN IT'S NOT WHAT SHE DOES AT ALL. Lovely. Way to start the saga. You cockface. Hm. Okay. I'll admit that there's a mildly interesting interplay between vampire strengths and weaknesses. But then you fucking RUIN it by making your main character 'better than human.' I'm rolling my eyes now. Interesting, silver harms vampires. Hm. Veredict: Meh. Boring. Chapter Two: ... when somebody says 'I got off work at six!' I don't assume six AM in the morning. Nor do I assume that they went immediately to sleep afterwards. Mrs. Hamilton, you're awful at creating convincing characters with their own personalities. You may be good at little details, but those can only get you that far. Not to mention your plot is rather trite (oh no, hate crimes! The protagonist is the only one who can do something about it!) and now it seems that not even your extras have personalities. And Anita herself is mind-numbingly boring. Also, I'm picking up grammar mistakes. On a published book. What the fuck, woman? Veredict: BORING. BORING. GOOD LORD SOMEONE KILL ME NOW3. Chapter Three: Oh, so the established idiot in the last chapter disagrees with the main character's views. Lovely. I can see the onset of Mary Sue tendencies. Ugh, for the love of all that is holy, Mrs. Hamilton. Stop trying to imitate noir style. You aren't good at it. You fail. You hear me, dear author? YOU FAIL. Anita doesn't sound witty or badass. She sounds like she's a noir film addict who shot up some heroine and now thinks she's the star of her own movie. Which would be nice as a parody, of course, but you actually expect us to take this broad seriously. You should be ashamed of yourself, Mrs. Hamilton. At least you're halfway decent with sarcasm4. Hmph, all right, you have me agreeing with Anita in one thing, because apparently she's familiar with the basis of logic5. And then she goes to what sounds like a vampire nightclub. When there are vampire killers on the loose. /facepalm. You'll be missing your gun before the night's over, dollface. Blah blah vampires, STILL NOT EXPLAINING A DAMN THING ABOUT THEM, blah blah, /headdesk @ your typical femboy vampire in lace being called masculine6, just realized I'm on page 10/1977, noticed a cheap Buffy The Vampire Slayer rip off (cross-shaped burn mark in the femboy's chest), wishing for a quick death... WAIT. WAIT. CHEMISTRY OBJECTION TIME! If you sleep and shower with a silver cross, it'll tarnish and mar your oh so precious pale skin for good. You're thinking of gold here. DIFFERENT METALS. Also, I like it how apparently the cross thing works based on the power of faith and I know beforehand Anita turns into a slut. I have absolutely no hopes that you, Mrs. Hamilton, will handle this in an interesting way. I'm pretty sure that at some point, you experienced a mid-life crisis, started thinking men were nothing but evil, lying, good-only-for-sex bastards, and tossed your Catholic schoolgirl teachings to the bin. And Anita, being your blatant self-insertion, followed suit. Way to go, Mrs. Hamilton. Way to go. Oh lovely. A vampire strip club. Ugh. For the love of all... Veredict: If I drank, I'd need a stiff one right about now. I think this is all I can stomach for the moment. I'll continue after a break... COMING NEXT: MORE FUCKING PAIN. 1: And we, the readers, are those to whom the infamous bukkake fetish is applied to, in this gruesome simile. 2: That is, me. 3: Preferably quickly. Like a scalpel to the carotid. 4: In a decent book, this would have me smiling. Here, it's barely a breath of fresh air when you're ROASTING IN HELL. 5: Mainly the fact that danger and alcohol don't mix. An oft overlooked fact that thankfully leads to the death of people too dumb to realize this simple truth. 6: Remember what I said in the first book about 'forcing your sexual tastes down the reader's throat'? Yeah. It's that all over again. Hell, I could've hit that myself, but now you ruined it because you basically forced my vision of the character through Anita's eyes. POOR WRITING, THAT'S WHAT IT IS. 7: KILL ME NOW! KILL ME IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS MERCIFUL IN THIS WORLD!

Hello and welcome to my humble abode. I am Shadow Knight, also known as SK and 'that guy over there.' Please, have a seat and help yourself to whatever strikes your fancy, including leaving any comments to my forthcoming book reviews. Speaking of which, that's the purpose of this thread, in case you've failed to deduce that on your own accord. I have so much stuff to read, mainly series that have been recommended to me, that I figured out I might as well make my thoughts public. Most of the time, I stumble across something that not only fails to capture my interest but annoys me a great deal. The by-product of such event is snark. Lots and lots of vitriolic snark. Which in most cases end up being a lot more fun, to me, than the reading itself. If you enjoy that kind of humour, read on! If not, I would advise you turn back now, before it's too late... FIRST BOOK: INK EXCHANGE, BY MELISSA MARR. Apparently, the story is about a paranormal romance set in Huntsdale, where three of the four Courts of Faerie reside. Apparently the King of the Summer Court is looking for his Queen, who was taken the form of a normal girl. This should make you frown right from the start. This is the Wikipedia page for the series. Prologue: Bland and rather uninteresting, full of clichés and ominous characters. Ooh, spooky! A poorly explained evil is rising and this random girl is... part of a vague plot. I have never seen THAT before!1 I can tell already that you aren't a particularly gifted author, Mrs. Marr. Your only saving grace? You present the convincing illusion that your heroine might have a strong personality, rather than the AFGNCAAP2 protagonists normally plaguing novels. Veredict: Barely passable. Keeping a vomit bag in hand. Chapter One: Let's start with the only thing you got right, my mentally-challenged author: tiny details about everyday life in a broken home. Hiding food, struggling with the bills, yaddayadda. Don't say I don't give credit where it is due. Now, let us move on to dissect what you did oh so very wrong: EVERYTHING ELSE. You did a reasonably believable attempt at representing a broken home, hovering between dysfunctional and 'please, someone call social services NOW!,' but then you fucked that up like there was no tomorrow. Your attempt at portraying the mental state of someone in that kind of situation not only fails utterly and in every single way, it also reveals quite transparently your sheltered, WASPy background. A girl that (apparently) GETS RAPED BY HER STONER BROTHER'S FRIENDS would never act the way you describe. What you describe is an upper-middle class suburban girl who thinks about hot boys and getting herself a tattoo because her head is vacuous. A struggling teenager from a broken home is, in no way, that ridiculously vapid, no matter how much she whines about wanting to maintain the illusion of normalcy. Also, you fall into the typical trap of making potential romantic characters (or what's worse, the 'magical race' of the novel) absolutely gorgeous. That is clichéd and fucking annoying. Ten lashes for you, you shallow imbecile. As an aside, your intolerable shallowness is further exposed when we examine the heroine's reason for getting a tattoo. It's implied in the title of the book and the prologue that this is rather important. One would expect this to be given more thought by the heroine, I would expect an entire fucking chapter of waxing poetically about body art and its significance, its meaning, its implications, about her thoughts, desires, fears, emotions. YOU GIVE ME NONE OF THAT. Bitch. I get, at best, a vague desire to express herself, then a lazily explained internet search about tattoos and their history that just 'resonates with her.' Yeah, right. You aren't fooling anyone, Mrs. Marr. I can tell you just find tattoos 'cool' or 'hot' and like the imagery. The amount of effort you put into disguising this is so small it borders on the insulting. As an aside to any writer reading this, to avoid making the same mistakes she made, do try to avoid presenting anyone (much less a whole race of Marty Stus in a paper-thin disguise) as objectively beautiful. It's fine if you're in the protagonist's PoV and you state stuff like 'she felt inexplicably attracted to him' or 'she found him extremely handsome' or 'there was something about him that she couldn't quite place, something that stirred dark desires within her' or something like that. That is biased. It explains that the character is beautiful to the protagonist. There's nothing readers (especially old snarky fuckers like me) hate more than being told what to think/feel. We enjoy making our own judgements about the characters, thank you very much. No, you do not get to argue with me about characters being 'objectively beautiful' because there is no such thing. We all have different standards for beauty and it is simply bad writing to force yours upon me. So you find a certain kind of fashion/looks/scene hot. Good for you. Now have a little courtesy to the reader and assume that applies only to your protagonist, no matter how 'universal' you think it is. Also, avoid avoid avoid avoid avoid AVOID the old 'oh my life is so awful! If only some hot person would rescue me...!" personality, because it annoys the ever-loving fuck out of me. I am reminded of all the passive people stuck in awful situation that refuse to lift a finger to help themselves, instead waiting for a shining knight (AHEM!) to swoop down and save them. Yeah, right. Dream on, kid. Dream on. Veredict: Dear Mrs. Marr: You fail. You eat failure for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Please do me a personal favour and set yourself on fire. I will not progress further into the book nor the rest of your series3. Thank you. SECOND BOOK: WICKED LOVELY, BY MELISSA MARR. Dear Shadow Knight: YOU STUPID FUCK, CHECK THE ORDER OF THE BOOKS BEFORE STARTING A SERIES. Twenty lashes for you. Yours sincerely, COMMON FUCKING SENSE. Prologue: *groans* GIVE ME BACK THE FIVE MINUTES OF MY LIFE I SPENT READING THAT ATROCITY! I facepalmed so hard I almost knocked myself unconscious. Holy shit lady, you sure know how to start a book! There are so many things wrong about your plot that I simply have no clue where to start! Firstly, your AFGNCAAP decoy protagonist is an idiot. She is warned that she might spend eternity cursed, doomed to actively fight against those who might actually free her from that curse, and she chooses to go ahead because 'she's in love with that boy'? I get it, Mrs. Marr, you were deeply in love when you were young, and you were fucked and then tossed aside like a used toy, but dear heavens, woman! Leave your personal history aside! We don't want to read about retarded people doing retarded things just so that you have a cheap way to make the real protagonist's plight even more dramatic later on. We, the readers, are NEVER convinced when a random extra gets offed at the beginning, just to prove how dangerous the plot device is. Or do you think we have all failed Genre Savvy 101, like you? For shame, woman. For shame. Veredict: I am stopping here. No more torture for me. Mrs. Marr, eat glass shards and choke on your own blood. COMING UP NEXT: SOMETHING THAT HOPEFULLY WON'T MAKE MY BRAIN BLEED. STAY TUNED. 1: For more details on this overused, unrealistic plot, see Changeling Fantasy. 2: Ageless-Faceless-Gender-Neutral-Culturally-Ambiguous-Adventure-Person. Many writers do try to give their main characters a personality, though. Most of the time, however, they just give them a gender and call it a day. In which case we end up with a Ageless-Faceless-Stereotypically-Gendered-Culturally-Ambiguous-Adventure-Person. But the acronym is nowhere nearly as catchy. 3: Retarded, retarded me, confusing the first book of the series with the second. NOW I HAVE TO ENDURE MORE TORTURE.

wanderingaddict: Thank you for the comment! There are no words to describe just how freaking AWESOME you are for writing such a lengthy review! Your rock, man. ROFLMAO! If one of my stories fails to include elves or other fey creatures, something's seriously wrong with me. Why yes I have! I still do, even, when I'm seriously bored. Thanks! I definitely tried to keep Aristan the cute innocent farmboy he is. And heh, you have no idea how glad I am to have got the ambient right. It was kind of hard to separate reality from Aristan's skewed-towards-elves vision. Glad it came out right! LOL, the little dog was such a cheap shot for cuteness, I can't believe it worked! I was like "Hmmmmm, he needs something to do while not with Rivandyr... OH I KNOW, PUPPY. And not just any puppy, A HUSKY!1" Hahahahahah, I'm so glad you could see the sexual tension between them (you know, apart from the whole drunk thing). I wanted to portray as Ree as far too decent to take advantage of such an opportunity (even if he still wanted it). And then at the end of the chapter, he was back to putting the charms on the human boy. I think I could have done a PoV switch there to show that Ree had been missing him too. But then again, I did want to keep Rivandyr's inner workings a secret for as long as possible, so maybe it worked out fine. But yeah, I didn't want to rush sex with this story. I wanted to, well, tease the reader for as long as I could. LMAO coming to this from SCN is like going cruising to a knitting club after watching hardcore porn! Ah, questions questions! This is all thoroughly explained in Part IIIB, especially the stuff that has to do with the Redpath questchain. Though the part about Arthas killing survivors was after Quel'Thalas and Dalaran got razed, so at least it's not that. It's more really about making it safely through the harsh winter in the mountains, more than facing the Scourge forces (though there'll be that, too, because I need to practise my action scenes). Hah, if there's something you can blame me of, is liking the WC3 units far too much. Especially the elven priest, the dark ranger and the banshee, my all-time faves. I always loved the High Elven Ranger too, even if you never got to handle them in the campaign. You'll definitely be seeing what Rivandyr brings to the table. And speaking of him... yeah, I think Part IIIA makes it clear in vibrant, soaking detail just what kind of depths stir underneath Rivandyr's cool façade. Still waters run deep, after all. I will make it a point in Part IIIB to explore the elf's psychology deeper, to show how his mind works. How he's 'frozen' an enormous chunk of his memories and tries to live a placid daily life, with all sorts of dark things stirring beneath the ice. And Aristan would be the dude that inadvertently thaws the whole thing and gets swept away in a tidal flood. Actually, according to this article, it's not clear where the hell Northeron actually is, so I erred on the side of caution and chose not to mention it at all. But then again, it's where the Wildhammer dwarves come from, so it does make sense that it's north of the Hinterlands. I'll give it some thought, but I'll probably go with what you're saying. 1:

I would suck out the venom. That's all I'm saying.

I'd go with both. Cornucopias are just, well, fertility horns of ideas. LMAO ewe value. And hahahaha, you MUST get yourself an avatar of the guy slapping people with a horsecock. It'd make me snicker every time I'd read one of your posts. Painfully fatal indeed! I wonder if that guy's tombstone reads "Killed by impalement on an equine phallus. He shan't be mourned, he shan't be missed, but he shall be forever remembered."

JayDee: Thanks for the review and specially for the recommendation! You RULE! And you got the goatse pun, too, now that's just awesome. Heh, what can I say, I love using obscure words, especially to conceal stealth puns. It was fun to write, and maybe one day I'll turn it into a larger story (I swear the word limit killed me!).

djackgirl: Thanks for the review! I try to be original whenever I can. I'm awfully pleased you liked it even if it wasn't something you usually read. It's a great accomplishment to me.

*twack* "OW! WHO LEFT A RAKE ON THE FLOOR?" *twack* "OW! TWO OF THEM?! SERIOUSLY?!" *twack*

pittwitch: Hahahah, thanks for the review! I admit I have a weird imagination at times...

Firstly: *makes mental note on how to do the 3/4* Secondly: Thanks! I tried to go for that effect and I'm really glad it shone through. Also, I'm adding you to my 'to read' list. I might not get to you right now, but some day, I'll leave you a review. Good authors are hard to come by.

Weeeeeell, when you say stuff like 'slaughter' and cackle, it's hard not to come off as evil. I do get that he was insane (and deliciously so!). Light and fluffy with violence: Check out Devil May Cry. That game series lives and breathes that. And Rule of Cool. Bwahahah, would you believe it if I said that's the *exact* same thing I thought when I read it? It's definitely one of those awesomely kinky things. Kudos to your twisted, perverted mind. :3

First of all, thanks to all for taking the time to leave your thoughts! Asexual Biped: Hahahah, yes, I do. :3 kisamiko: LOL, you have no idea how many evil plot bunnies you just planted in my head. ApolloImperium: Next prompt, I promise! Thanks for the praise! I really wanted to capture a sexy+WTF moment there. TheRedHead: Glad you enjoyed it. That was my goal, after all. FairySlayer: Hey, thanks for reading this even though it's not your kind of thing, I really appreciate it (and the comments you left). Heh, I honestly don't know any other word for "goat-like" other than caprine. And yeah, I tried as hard as I could to capture a strong combo of feelings for that scene. A veritable... cornucopia of emotions, even! Heh, what can I say? I like happy endings.

Pen Name: Shadow Knight. Story link: AFF Prompt - Cornucopia. Type of fic: FlashFic Rating: Adult + Fandom: Original. Pairing: N/A. Warnings: AFFO, Anal, Anthro, ChallengeFic, COMPLETE, HJ, Language, M/M, Oneshot, PWP, Rim.

I still recommend just pulling open a thesaurus and combining [Adjective] and [body Part] for those REALLY creative nicknames.

Ah, gotcha. Thanks!