Showing posts with label I regret reading this. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I regret reading this. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Dark Desire (...kill me)

This is the second book in Ms. Christine Feehan's  'Dark' series and considering how lackluster I summarized/reviewed her first book, you may be wondering why I decided to read another one. Well, I think I might have a rare, undiagnosed from of OCD where I can't bear to switch books mid-way in the month (actually at this rate, the end of the month). I'm just glad I have a "two book per month" posting schedule instead of the initial four books in one month I did back in October. Also, I have a bottle of vodka with me and I would like to conduct an experiment wherein I get drunk over the course of a day reading this stupid thing by playing the previously posted "Feehan's Dark Drinking Game".

Today's book promises to be even sexier then the previous one. It's got "desire" right in the title so you know it'll have tons of sexy euphemisms and overuse of cloth attributes and temperatures. Vamp chika wow wow.

***

Right off the bat we start this book off with some torture. Alright, totally can relate here! Judging by the prisoner trying to send "mental messages", it looks like he's a Vampathian (or "Carpathian", as the author insists on calling these pseudo-vampires). His pain of a thousand paper cuts is being felt by some young female in the vast distance and this mind-meld can only mean we have another soulmate love connection brewing here. The young woman who will play opposite this unnamed tortured "soul" is a doctor named Shea O'Halloran (Oh, don't drag the Irish into this, Ms. Feehan). The guy gets staked and buried alive but just won't die because he's better than your run-of-the-mill vampire. And yet he still got captured by a bunch of puny humans. Really makes you think.

So the guy is in darkness and hungry and tries to sleep as his memory starts going because this painful torture has been going on for quite a while. His name is Jacques. Wait. Jacques? That name is familiar to me because there's a Jacques in the previous (horrible) book, The Dark Prince. He was the brother of, well, "The Dark Prince". This BETTER not be the same Jacques. He was one of the very few things I liked about the last book! You just got this book off to a piss poor start, Ms. Feehan and that's really saying something. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Oh God, I need my first drink of the evening. So Frere Jacques is dormez-vous'ing and plotting on how to get out and get to Dr. Shea because he sees visions of her elbow-deep in chest cavities and immediately thinks she's a fellow torturer like the others who caught him instead of, you know, an inconvenienced, chronically ill surgeon thanks to that mental link that has her experiencing his pain. Boy will his face be red when finds out she's actually his soulmate and not a murderer. (From embarrassment but also the bloody wounds on his head.)

During what I think is a flashback (it's not exactly clear), we see how Dr. Shea handles two vampire-torturing thugs visiting her office (and we find out about her "emerald eyes" and presumably fiery red hair). She has the power to sort of mentally seduce weaker men which most would just call "hot girl flirting" and she looks over pictures of various supposed vampires that those two goons have tortured, including Jacques. Now, most normal women would've called the cops or yelled for help when the gruffer of the two start claiming *you're* a vampire and they're gonna kill *you* but that's not the O'Halloran way. She has the weaker minded of the two express doubt and then jumps out her window. Ladies and gentlemen, our female protagonist. And you know, I still like her better than Psychic Inspector Raven. As the mind meld goes on, the Vampathian getting tortured finds himself torn with his attraction/fascination with her and his need for revenge. She's one of those "married to her work" types and he wants to know why there are no friends and family in her life. (Why are there no friends and family in YOUR life to save you, guy who I hope isn't Jacques form the previous book!)

So time keeps passing and it looks like Dr. Shea is on the run. Jacques sees glimpses of her running around and he likewise wants to run... his fingers through that silky, red hair. (BTW, First sighting of silky! If you don't remember, the trigger words are: silk, satin, need, desire, erotic, hot or heat, breast, soul and two shots for soulmate...) I may have overdone the word choice. In fact, I think I passed "need" a few pages back when he was battling his inner demons. *quick check...* And yes. There are at least 15 uses of "need" in the first half of this chapter BUT they're not all sexual in nature soooo, I may have to revise the rules a bit. Purists may call me "overly analytical" or "a pussy" but the spirit of the drinking game applies to the erotic descriptions and not two thugs threatening the good doctor that she "needs to go with them". Okay, enough sidetracking. This will only get worse after a few drinks in me (I'll only count words in sexual nature but will still tally them up for notoriety's sake at the end of this book.)

So yeah, as I said, the brilliant doctor is on the run, and again, why is she not calling the police? People know her and would miss her if she, you know, goes missing. The hell, man. According to her mother's diary, Dr. Shea's daddy is a Vampathian (with the vaguely familiar name, Rand. A quick look at my recap/summary post shows me he's the philandering manwhore who was shunned and sent to sex rehab. Probably.) So Shea is half Vampathian. That explains some things. Wait. I thought their kind couldn't reproduce with human woman otherwise wouldn't they all be doing it to try and get some female babies to give the Renesmee* treatment? I guess she's just that special. God, will the vague Twilight comparisons stop plaguing my mind?? I don't need an excuse to take a shot since "erotic" pops up in the mom's diary (Really? What kind of mother keeps an adulterous sex diary? Also she wasn't even phased by the blood drinking and the jealous vampire wife? Dr. Shea, please don't be as dumb as your mother! ... I know I'm asking a lot.)
*I'm sorry I know this name.

Thanks to the sexposition diary, we learn Shea has a "rare blood disorder" (riiight) from being half-vamp and Rand is probably dead. And the needy mistress wanted to die with her beloved but stuck it out for her newborn baby. Nice parenting there; go join Jon Benet Ramey's mom and Mrs. Donna Trenton in the line for your "world's best mom" mug. No I'm not being sarcastic, what makes you say that. Idiot. So, Dr. Shay wants to find a cure for this strange blood disease that causes men to drink people's blood during sex and have glowy eyes and fangs. At the risk of repeating myself so soon: Idiot. Back with Jacques who I'm pretty sure is my favored princely sibling (what have they done to you?!?), the vamp uses his powers of vampekinesis to bring animals to him so he can have some sort of nourishment. His mind hypnosis doesn't seem to work as well on creatures of higher intelligence, like the red-haired doctor despite her being in the same town as him (she decided to go to her dead-beat father's homeland for answers on her blood disorder).

Let's get a little more information about the perfect Irish doctor. In addition to silky (shot!) red hair, and enourmous, vivdly green eyes, she's also very delicate, has a siren's voice that mesemrizes mere mortals, can talk to animals, outperform most athletes in running/jumping, and she speaks six languages. Wow, this Florence Nightingale can do it all... except diall 911 when she know she's being hunted down. SERIOUSLY. There better be a good explanation coming, and soon. But wait, she also has a few problems in that the sun burns her skin (that's what happens when you're a fair-skinned lass) and has poor vision during the day (that's called near-sightedness due to sticking your nose in medical books for most of your life). Oh, and she gets her daily blood transfusions orally (that... means she inherited her mother's Idiocy along with her fathers vampire-ness.) But all these life lessons of isolation have made her the highly respected, self-suficient surgeon she is today. She don't need no man, vampire or strange hybrid of the two. She thinks about that "rare disease" some more, hypothesizing that it originated in the Carpathian Mountains and is so close to vampirism that people have started to believe in them again and took to killing them (some of the hunters did try to study the "affected" but, you know, killing is so much more fun in rural Europe.)

Using her doctor salary and inheritance monies, Dr. Shea transforms a totally drab cabin into a totally fab cabin. Up in the Carpathian mountains, she feels like she's finally at home. Also, she has hacker skillz to pay the non-existent billz. Because super strength, super healing, and super wealth isn't enough for this feisty red-head. If only she had super common sense. She hears the voice from her nightmares but she follows it, across grassy fields and crystal clear streams and she can paint with all the colors of the wind, she's so one with nature. She stumbles on a crumbling building with a hidden cellar door. She goes down into the dark, moldy place and though she's afraid, she keeps going. And good thing she does because she stumbles onto Jacques prison/coffin. (and several hundred rat bodies drained of blood. Gross. But also grudging respect for actual gruesomeness in a paranormal romance or "paromance".)

Doctor's diagnosis: Jacques is dead. I mean the grey skin, the stillness of the body, and the fist-size stake through the heart are a dead giveaway. The good doctor feels sorry for him, wishing she could've saved this man with presumably her rare blood disorder (oy...) But wait! His eyes shoot open and boy is he thirsty. She doesn't resist his bloodsucking out of guilt it seems, and she passes out. This doctor needs to stop being such a bleeding heart. And bleeding neck, I suppose. Okay, so after she comes to, she realizes the poor staked guy is reacting on animal instinct after being trapped for God knows how long. She puts some healing earth on his cuts (there's more about the "healing earth" and stuff in my Dark Prince recap. And if you haven't read my Dark Prince recap, you're a lucky bastard and I hate you.) She uses her half-pathian siren's voice to soothe him and promises to get help but no can do. He's got her in a death grip and feeding on her a second time, then stopping to give her some of his own blood again. You know, there's only a finite supply of blood the two of you can share between each other. Eventually, a third blood supplier will be needed to get you two healthy again.

Now that it's sunrise and Jacques has gone into hibernation, Dr. Shea can rush over to her cabin, not to get away from the dude who ripped her throat open twice, but to get the necessary supplies to help him. Ah, the power of forced soulmate love. She drives a special truck with tinted windows and a cable and winch to lift Jacques, coffin and all, out of that cellar and to her cabin. Ah, the power of money. She's burning up under the sun but she sticks it out to save the man who still hasn't said a word (I guess they always have psychic talks). After removing his clothes and feeling all fluttery at him licking her arm wound (Okay, yeah that's pretty damn intimate), she tries to surgically remove the stake from his chest, sans anasthesia as per Jacques' glaring "request". Since she's not strong enough to remove a frikin' piece of wood (aren't there supposed to be incisions in surgery?), Jacques yanks it out. And he doesn't even cry. The doctor lady starts stitching all his cuts, and even adds some spit and dirt as is the Vampathian home remedy. Then she puts him to bed and leaves him a glass of warm blood. Lovely.

As soon she gets out of the shower, she notices the blood is still there. She tells him to drink it since he refuses anything sharp near his body for regular transfusions and he utters his first word: No. Awww, they grow up so fast. And ooh. Looks like he wants something else warm and red... Damn, the dude just got out of a possibly years-long torture fest and we're already throwing out "erotic" and "hot passion" (BTW: That's 2 shots. The game has officially gotten serious!) But no sex comes of it, thank goodness. Just some more blood sharing and cuddling. That's gothically romantic, I guess. And I think they pretty much completed the soulmates ritual now. It's three exchanges of blood... but then there's also an exchange of Soulmate Miranda Rights and something tells me Count Mute-ula won't be saying much anytime soon. Just as well. Turns out even when he's been tortured into a baser animal with only thoughts of revenge against his captors, I still kinda like Jacques. Insert comparison about a shred of humanity and a shred of my love for his old personality here. I hope it's still the case as we go on.

Dr. Shea's night of cuddling with a wildman who's actually a pseudo vampire is interrupted by horrible stomach cramps from hell. Shouldn't have had so much rotting corpse blood. Jacques is mentally commanding her to return to his side so he can heal her with the power of his cuddles. Dude, give the woman a few minutes to vomit in peace and then you can use her as your personal body pillow Jacques uses hypnosis. It's very effective. Gotta catch 'em all!) He wakes her up and she finally realizes he can talk to her mentally. Your powers of perception are astounding, doctor. And Jacques is officially in brooding, overprotective soulmate mode which is kind of a bummer but there's still hope, right? Dr. Shea tries for a sassy quip about him having his rabies shot and I realize that, no, there is no hope. Jacques has been tortured so there would be no snarky, joking younger brother with the lopsided smile I liked from 'Dark Prince'. He's now this angsty, angry black-eyed wild man with a hunger that can only be fed by his fiesty little "red hair".

Satin heat and velvet softness (3 shots!) and they just only started kissing. Hoo boy. Oh wait. Looks like the Board of Ethics rears it's cockblocking head and Dr. Shea pushes away from her patient. Can't be exposing the guy to anything overstimulating or expose yourself to possible sex rabies, har har. After some questions about her finding him, he finally introduces himself and lays the soulmate bombshell on her, making sure she doesn't run away or something by grabbing her wrist in a vicegrip (something he seems to like doing a lot). She treats the news with denial and confusion. Jacques mentally tells her that two humans and one betrayer (a fellow Vampathian?) were the ones responsible for his torture. And then he gets all doe-eyed and recites the Miranda Rights of love, mentally to her. And thus, they are shackled together for all eternity. Dr. Shea is once again confused (and has shades of feisty-ness because she ain't need no man, mm mmm.)

It takes her a while to realize her body is going through some changes. I'm not sure quite what they are but it's to be assumed she got even more pseudo-vampiric. She can't even drink apple juice anymore. *gasp!* And when she tries to leave, Jacques psychically closes that door and beckons her with his velvety voice (shot!) but she's still confused about his psychic abilities. He finally figures out that despite their mental connection, she has no idea about the kind of creatures they are and with Jacques having partial amnesia about his past, it would seem that they're screwed (unerotically speaking). He tries to tell them a little about their ways and how to take care of themselves but she doesn't really get it until he tells her he slowed down his heart and lungs and stuff so he could survived beiung staked and buried alive for years. Now, by "getting it", I mean Dr. Shea gets all scientific and excited at this genetic anomaly and starts revving up her computer. It's nice to know she has passion for some things. And a skeptical red-headed doctor? I think I'm starting to get re-interested all over again.

When he sees her looking super tired, he commands her to drink blood despite her disgust at the idea. In no time, he has her suckling on his rugged chest because years of slow decay stand no chance against sculpted abs of sexyness. Also, "satin perfection" (shot!), "felt heat coil" (shot!), her mouth feels "erotic" (shot!) Oh dear, interest is gone. Also, there hasn't even been sex yet and I believe I've downed... yup about 8 shots. I'll have to drink more water and slow down. (But if I slow down, that means a longer time with this book. Blllaaagh.) After a sensual spongebath, the doctor steps outside and marvels at the technicolor world that greets her newly converted  Vampathian senses. A few minutes later, her patient calls for her and she runs back, with teasing and other blah. His passionate black eyes have nightmares and her smoldering emerald gaze eventually succumbs to his pleading and guilt. She cuddles his nightmares away. That'd be cuter if I could stop flip-flopping between whether I like these characters or not. I guess I like them when they're not being schmoopy romantic which kinda defeats the point of a "paromance".

Either I'm so drunk that I'm repeating passages or the author keeps repeating Jacques tortured past and how Shea is now his whole life and the light to his darkness that made him more human and less vengeance monster. I prefer the vengeance monster. But even more so, I prefer the Jacques from the first book. Now who's repeating herself? Yeah, yeah. While she showers, he overexerts himself trying to some psychic thing and when she returns to his room he gets a vision/flashback of his past and nearly Hulks out in rage, and then the pain sets in and he's down for the count. She finally figures out he might be an immortal dude who survived years of torture and a stake in his chest. When he explains the soulmate mindmeld bonding that they've done, the doctor remembers how shellshocked her mother was after her vamp sex-buddy left her and thinks it might've been one of those soulmate deals. Hmm. Okay, then. Also, she's too smart and independent to get tied down to a man who's a vengeance seeking monster. Correction. A sexy vengeance seeking monster. And Ms. Feehan keeps saying how smart and independent Dr. Shea is but there's way more telling and not enough showing going on here. I no likee.

Run, run, run, as fast as she can. You can't catch her, she the Ginger Woman. Dr. Shea goes into doctor denial over Jacques being a vampire but soon starts hunting animals for blood since she's so hungry and weak. Jacques is suffering mentally, wondering where it all went wrong and realizing this doctor lady wasn't actually playing hard to get but was in fact a dense human who had no idea that Carpathians aren't just Romanian mountain folk. She's finally getting worried again, wondering how he'll survive since he's bed ridden and all. Jacques is currently snacking on Bambi's easily hypnotized cousins. She returns to the cabin, gets into his bed, and we finally have the first "breast" word sighting (I think that covers all of the words in the drinking game). Also, I sense a sex scene coming (heh). Dr. "little red hair" gets sucked and does some sucking (I guess deer blood is quite the aphrodisiac). He gets downright rapey, overcome by his DARK DESIRE (title drop + shot!) but with some mental coaxing, Dr. Shea talks him down and the sexing is averted. Is that disappointment I'm feeling? Perhaps because this book is still only about a quarter way done and it's been a few hours already. I'm really struggling through this bad boy.

There's soothing words from Dr. Shea about how she never should've left him and pleas for forgiveness for letting his inner animal out. Oh please. This is the floweriest, "not technically called rape" fiction I have ever read. And no, I haven't read much rape fiction unless you count Stephen King (not actually a zing; I think one or two instances of rapey sex happened in a King book. Okay, fine, I'll count 'The Dead Zone' for "raping" my innocent, book-loving heart. Also, I never get tired of bringing up the worst Stephen King book I've read in a bad book review.) Might as well start revealing her childhood to the pseudo vampire rapist. And no one is more confused or annoyed at referring to Jacques like that than I am, believe you me. I'm getting so confused and sad. I guess it doesn't help that the background music I'm playing is kind of distracting me. (Liquor alone can't keep my attention up and besides, there seems to be a 1990s theme going with the music and the bursts of nostalgia keep my spirits up when I get the urge to question why I'm doing this. It's not like I'm getting paid per blog post or something. And it's not like I have any sort of fan following, because if I did, they would surely be kind enough to LEAVE A COMMENT,*Hint Hint*)

Is anyone reading this actually interested in Dr. Shea's childhood? I mean, we basically covered it earlier, right? Her mom slept around with a slutty Vampathian and was a terrible caregiver, devoted to moping around and pining her lost lover. Booo. On the amusing side, Dr. Shea realizes her father was probably the husband to Jacques' dead sister. Hmm... does that make them cousins or something? Somebody get Springer on the phone! Or Montell. Did Montell Jordan have a talkshow? I feel like he had a talkshow. If he did, the theme song would've totally been 'This Is How We Do It' and he'd show Dr. Phil how it's done. Okay, so Dr. Shea and her silky silk hair (2 more mentions = 2 more shots) tries to protest again, sounding more convincing than the previous book's heroine but ends up falling for a shadow of Jacques' old lopsided charm. Aww... damn it, Jacques and to a lesser extent, Shea. The things. You say. You're unbelievable (woooaah!) On an unrelated note, EMF reminds me of a music company. Isn't there a similarly named music company? Oh, and Jacques is getting more memories back. Interestingly enough, they're the ones distinguishing vampires from his race of "Carpathians". No matter how many times you wanna draw differences, I WILL NOT stop thinking of them as vampires, Christine Feehan. So knock it off and work on your writing!

Dr. Shea plans to do a supply run in the morning but he refuses to let her go because he's tortured and needy. He delves into what their soulmate thing means and how he can see colors with her and blah, if you want to know more go read The Dark Prince recap. I can't be bothered to regurgitate this. I'm skimming along as it is. Speaking of the Dark Prince, he starts remembering the big fight and his attempt to protect the birdy protagonist but he can't seem to get any names or major details. It frustrates me and him. Mostly him. I've decided I won't care anymore. It's better if I don't. (Poor Jacques.) She finally gets going and on her errands of woe she senses some psychic intrusion. I think it bears repeating that this wouldn't have happened if she called the cops. She sees some shady, dark haired guy under a tree and as soon as she gets into her truck with her supplies, the dude grabs her and tries to get friendly. Kick him in the balls and run, doctor! He's a fellow Vampathian who recognizes Jacques' scent on her but is still threatening the little doctor? This shall not pass! Oh snap, she does actually knee him and run off. You have gained some respect from me, little red hair.

After a brief mental check-in where she tells Jacques what happened (you can probably guess his reaction), she drives as far as she can to the cabin but the vampire mid-morning sleepies get to her and before you can say 'Vampire fanfiction', it's night time and that shady guy who tried to mess with her has turned into an owl and met up with his Vampy commander. This is where reading the first book comes in handy (and this is the only time I'll probably ever say those words). It's the return of the, oh wait, no way you're kidding. He didn't just say what I think he did, did he? And Dr. Shea said... nothing you idiots, Dr. Shea's undead and driving while I'm wasted! (Haha!) Yeah. It's Prince Pansy Ass Mikhail. And you know it won't be long until his ball and chain shows up. Just Great. (Sarcasm test complete.)

After *finally* getting there, Dr. Shea finds even her patient got tired of the wait and is on his feet and sweating blood. He's itching to leave because he can sense they're coming aaaand too late. They're already here. Shady guy and Prince Mikhail. Oh crap. They see the bruised up Jacques and they are pissed and accusing Dr. Shea. Nooo. Do something, Jaques! And only when Dr. Shea is near unconcious does Jacques go Super Saiyan. He starts hurling objects and tackling left and right. Yes! Kill your pansy brother, Jacques! Then you shall inherit the throoone! This is the ultimate game of throooones! (I feel like that show/book would be more entertaining than this, though to be honest, this part of the book is the only part I like so far). Kill him, Jacques! Kill him dead! But he doesn't because of his injuries. Cripe crackers. She commands them to help and they have no choice since they're on Jacques' side but then Jacques grabs her and starts sucking her blood as punishement, I guess, for trying to help him when she should've just let him kill those who dare choke his woman. Looks like his manly pride is the most wounded of all.

The Prince and the shady guy (named Byron), reluctantly get out and let her do some 21st Century healing. Science! Shady Byron thinks Jacques is all vampire and savage now so they should kidnap the woman and cut their losses. Seriously? Prince Mikhail thinks that even though he's mostly animal violent, the only one who could control him was the doctor and that shady mofo is still on him about how few Vampathian women they have and she's probably not Jacques' soulmate since they haven't had the sex and he could've sensed if they did. (Eww, perv.) Hey, Byron Von Buttinksi, kindly GTFO and quit trying to steal Jacques' woman! Gawd. Hark, here comes a new character. Or rather an old character. Alcohol is not good for my memory but a quick CTRL-F of my previous recap shows that it's the only other character in the other book I sort of liked; the cold healer Gregori. Hopefully he can fix up the wounded Jacques and blood-drained Shea. Geez, when did I get so invested in this couple? The booze... she is making me soft.

Dr. Shea asseses this new Vampathian and decides he looks like an axe murderer. Hah! Then Mr. Cool himself, Gregori, decides to get the ball rolling on backstory and explanation. Since Dr. Shea is the more reasonably of the two, he tries to ask how she stumbled upon Jacques. She answers cautiously and asks proof they know the wild man. They blah blah blah about having lost contact with him, like, seven years ago and they should've heard his mental cries for help if their bond is as strong as Gregori claims. Bastards left my poor, happy Jacques to die in a crypt in the rubble of his own house. They know Shea's the only thing keeping him sane and I feel like she should just drop dead, out of spite and let Jacques tear the prince and that Shady Byron guy to pieces. Sure, Jacques would die in the ensuing struggle but at least he'll be put out of his misery. And it would serve the prince and his lackeys right. No leader, no new woman addition to their race. Nothing. Screw that whole stupid ass Carpathian race for letting themselves get bested by frickin humans with wooden stakes! God, I'm getting pissed off. Things can't possibly get any...

OH MOTHER OF CHRIST Raven is in da houuuuse! BOOOO! Get her outta here! I don't need another Mary effing Sue in my crappy vampire erotic novel! WHY why?? Whhhyyy?!!? She's there to provide her sassy wit and comfort and baaaarf. Jacques recognizes her and Shea is a bit jealous. Honey, even as crappy a character as you have been, you're still miles better than blue-eyed, raven-haired Raven. When Raven tries to help Shea up, Jacques gets all uneasy and please, if you love me as much as I loved you, you'd kill Raven. It would probably get your brother all pissed but he can go F*ck off. Jacques manages to convey that they both need blood (right, because she never got a chance to give him the stuff from her supply run to the blood bank). He drinks some of Gregori's super special ancient blood and the others pretend to look elsewhere even though we know they're secretly getting off on the doctor being humiliated in drinking blood when she clearly doesn't want to; especially that perv Byron. God, I hate that guy. And I hate this whole ugly mess. I agree with Jacques and Dr. Shea; we want these interlopers out of this book. Shoo. Go be owls somewhere in Hogwarts. Stupid Mikhail, and Raven, and Byron... and even Gregori. You cool, cool, bucket o'bastard.

It's been one week since I looked at this. Poor excuse of a love story, I diss. Five days since I ate some cheese. And pondered my life and also... honey bees? Yeeeah. Despite my poor on-the-fly rhyming skills the music has more of my attention than this book. On the plus side, it's providing you lovely readers with lots of links to get away from this horrible summary of a horrible book. So now that Jacques has his family he so clearly hates, and they're evil vampires, Dr. Shea is ready to end her house call. Finally, the woman sees sense. Run Shay! Kick my beloved Jacques in the balls and start your life anew! That bastard Byron takes her reluctance as proof she might not be Jacques' soulmate (WhoTF asked you!?) but he won't try and whisk her away with a pissed off, possessive Jacques. Okay, I'm switching sides. Take your woman, Jacques! Take her away into the earth and show her that not all Vampathian couples are lame like your brother and his bird-brained lady! Try not to go too Chris Brown on her ass, though. Dr. Shea brings up good points about needing time to think and not being held hostage by vampires that tried to kill her. With a few soothing words though, Gregori has her sleeping. Okay, my last side switch! I call foul! Y'all Carpathians are a bunch of hypnotist kidnappers and rapists! Also, I thought Irish ladies were feistier than that. (If only she wasn't such a tiny, delicate creature with that weakening "rare blood disease".)

A new scene and chapter has us at a campfire with three of the inept vampire hunters who were hunting Dr. Shea a while back. Oh come on, leave the poor doctor alone. I am not drunk enough for this... They're talking about some vampire codenamed The Vulture who is probably the snitch bastard that betrayed Jacques several years ago. Speaking of Jacques, look who's awake and frisky. And, look who's got three shots in hand. I think you know who. He's licking up her tears of sorrow because that's so creepy erotic. Make that four... no five shots. Wow, the author is really ramping up the heat, velvet, eroticblahs. And the bonus word moist! That's a five second chuuuuug! Woo! Ahh, it burns. Like the love between these two miserable, vampy peoplethingys. Do you believe in life after love? I can feel something inside me say... are there any love stories with robots or shiny people with autotuned voices? I feel that would be interesting to read.

So clearly, Dr. Shea is afraid of committment and she's freaking out like a female lead in a romantic comedy, ready to go off to Ireland because damnit, she don't need no man. I'm annoyed at her because clearly Jacques needs her and they have that damn soulmate bond and she needs him because she's tiny and being hunted by even worse rapists than that Byron guy. Ugh. If only her personality was switched with that bird-brain protagonist from the previous novel. Mikhail deserves a commitment-phone who is actually as independent as she claims and poor Jacques would do wonders with a girl who easily submits to his will and sexes him up on every available surface except the bed. Ugh. I think I'm condoning an abusive relationship. What are you doooiiing to me, Christine Feehan and Absolut!?!? Jacques lays on the guilt; if she leaves he'll be lost and a danger to others. And when she's all apologetic about not rescuing him in time despite him haunting her dreams for years, I just wanna say, she did a lot more than his so called family who figured him as good as dead. They can all suck a collective gaggle of cock.

Speaking of, they're on their way over like uninvited guests and Dr. Shea sorely (emphasis on sore) does not want to see her new choke-happy "family". When Jacques points out the missing Byron, they tell him he sensed the "ritual" was completed. So they all knew exactly when Jacques was losing his soulmate virginity to the good doctor? Pervs, all of them! Have they no decency?! Dr. Shay is also just as shocked and outraged but being a weak woman in the presence of powerful Vampathians, there's not much she can do. I still vote for the ball kick and run away technique. Raven is first to talktalktalk all sassy and ready to bond with a new female BFF. Go DIAF, Raven. The only semi-useful thing to gather from this is that Shea's manwhore daddy is actually still alive and living as a recluse (I tought their kind dies when their soulmate dies). When Gregori tries to give her his super special healing blood, Dr. Shea immediately resists. That's right, Shea! Resist their BSery! That'll teach them for being all imposing and peeking in on your sexytimes. Spiteful death will elevate you to new favorite character status!

She does not die spitefully, BUT she does the next best thing. When Jacques is distracted from sucking his brother's sweet, sweet blood nectar (and getting some memories back), she jumps up and hightails it out of there. Go Shay, go! Channel your inner Scully! It's not right, but it's okay. You're gonna make it anyway. Close the door behind you, there's no key. You'd rather be alone than totally controlled and possessed by a bunch of psycho, sexist monsters. Of course Jacques is shooing away his craptastic family and channeling his thoughts to command his woman back. Jacques, honey, no. Stop being a possessive dick. He's going to her now and is taking the time to cool off in the rain. I'm sure he looks very sexy now that he's at full power and, I think, shirtless. He tries diplomacy over full on force and I'm wholly on Team Doctor (BTW, fezzes *are* cool!) After much angst and arguing, he sweet talks his way into her panties (and it's not wholly as laughably unbelievable as a certain OTHER dark soulmate couple). Thus the two make sweet, cliche love in the rain (twice!) and the most appropriate sappy song has come up in my background 90s music-palooza. Everything I do, I do it for yooououuo!!! Yeah I would fry for you. Get high with you. Walk all Thai for you, Wear tie dye for yooouou... They are truly the Robin Hood and Maid Marian of the crappy psuedo vampire erotic paromance novel. *sniff* Also my vodka bottle is officially empty. :(

So the emotional cripples (the only decent description I will give Feehan credit for) start talking and Jacques finds his memories coming back pretty quick though still not all of them. Soon Dr. Shea realizes maybe being naked in the cold rain while vampire hunters are out there somewhere is not the best of ideas so they start to leave but they sense something is watching them. Of course it's that Shady Bastard Byron. Perving on two semi-consenting adults sexing it up in nature. How rude. He expresses pervy regret, claiming he was besties with Jacques back in the good old days. And yet so willing to take his girlfriend. Away with him. Hope this is the last we see of Byron. Dr. Shea still senses some evil presence even though Jacques doesn't but they try to alleviate the tension with cutesy flirting. It's not doing much for me. On an unrelated note, whatever happened to Ja Rule? Can I get a (what, what) 'Behind the Music' retrospective on this guy? And I guess to a lesser extent, that chick in that song but mostly Ja Rule. (he's like the Kel to Jay Z's Kenan.)

Tarzan carries his beloved Jane up a cliff because it's not safe to go back to their cabin. Dr. Shea gets ironic (I maaay be mis-using the word) by admitting she's afraid of bats. Tough luck. With a traitor vampire maybe watching you and some jackass humans hunting your ass, there aren't a lot of safe places you can hide in. To pass the time, Jacques asks her opinion on Raven. You already know my opinion on Raven Sue. As for the doctor, she thinks the birdy woman's okay but crazy for hanging out with pervy jerks. She especially doesn't trust the the healer Gregori because he's as cold as ice, ice baby. Alright stop. Collaborate and listen. Because someone is screaming for help outside the cave, possibly a Vampathian caught by the betrayer who originally caught Jacques. They think it's that bastard Byron who's screaming. And despite vampires being more suceptible to sunlight than Vampathians, their "ancient race" (who can shapeshift into freaking mist and just slip through someone's fingers) are still being killed and hunted sucessfully by one or two vampires and a network of overeager good ole' boys with guns and wooden stakes. Just... incredible. And not the good kind of incredible. Like the kind where you stress the prefix "in" (meaning "not") plus Ms. Feehan's author credibility. I hope this makes sense to anyone reading because I''m not even sure it makes sense to me. I'm really digging into my high school English classes for this stuff.

As they make their way out of the cave, the two lovebirds talk about kids which leads to an argument. Not the usual argument because nothing is usual with them, but whether Jacques would raise any kids they have should Dr. Shea die. Jacques plays the soulmate card; he can't live without her and he's sure his creepy-ass family would look after his child if he pulls a Juliet. Dr. Shea remembers her own abandonment issues with a grief-stricken parent and gets angry. I can totaly understand Dr. Shea. You know, this catatonic mother neglecting her daughter after her beloved died reminds me of Katniss Everdeen, protagonist of The Hunger Games. Ah, THG. I think I'll re-read that book to cleanse my brain palate of this blechy book. You down with THG? Yeah, you know me. We're at the cabin with Jacques, Dr. Shea, and the rest of the motley crew. Apparently Raven is gonna have a little chick soon. So of course she gets extra protection as she channels her psychic abilities to try and find that boring ole' Byron. Princey over there is also in on the mind searching and apparently they do find Byron but get mentally trapped or something so they have to be punched back (well, Mikhail gets hit back into conciousness, not poor widdle pregnant Raven who's not fat because either she's really early in the pregnancy stages or that's yet another benefit of being a pseudo vampire; control you body temperature, control your weight, control your interesting characteristics.)

Another argument about children arises. This time between Ravenclaw and Gregori. He's only protective over her because the baby she's carrying is female and his destined soulmate. Way to look out for number one, you pedo. We need a Super Chris Hanson on this guy; does it count as underaged when the girl isn't even born? You know, this actually has me thinking about the aging logistics for these beings. Vampathian Babies grow into sexy adults and then, what, stay that way? Why? Gregori is hundreds of years old but he's described all sexy with a voice that could melt the panties off the most stubborn, German schoolmarm. Why do they all stop aging at around their late twenties? Why the hell am I even trying to make sense of this? Raven tries to argue her equality and I just laugh because that weak little bird-brain thinks she's people. She wants the men to take her and the good doctor seriously. You know what I want? I'll tell you what I want. What I really, really want. I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really really really wanna DROP KICK RAVEN AND HER DAMN SOULMATE OUTTA THIS BOOK! It's barely bearable with Jaques and the doctor!! Feehan, for Chrissake, stop trying to pretend Raven ISN'T a damsel in distress and concentrate on the redhead with the career! No wait, if you concentrate on Dr. Shea you'll turn her back into a simpering mess. Ugh. Either way, I lose.

So they determine that the vampire was able to capture Vampathians and trap their mind, making them unable to communicate mentally, with black magic potions lost for many centuries. This plot device reeks as if pulled from the ass of a 40-something year old, love-struck author. A poisonous brew of snips, snails, and puppy dog tails is mixed with some blood and offered to a Vampathian by the betrayer. And a Vampathian would have to be either retardedly stupid or mortally injured to accept roofied blood. Jacques turned out to be the latter but can't remember who offered the tainted blood (oxymoron? Well there's definitely much moronic-ness in this chapter). Dr. Shay comforts him since just two days ago he couldn't even remember how to be an adorable gentleman. Wow. Has it *really* been just two days? It feels soooo much longer. Dr. Shea says she can sense the vampire betrayer even though none of the other Vampathians can because clearly they suck. She suspects it might be Gregori with his velvet smooth voice (waah... I can't take a shot cuz I'm out of booze. ;_;) And you know, I'm starting to suspect Gregori too. He might be a double agent, like Severus Snape, except he can actually do magic. (Oooh, Snape burn. And ten points to Gryffindor just to rub it in.)

OKay, so Shay thinks that since humans are lazy, they'll probably use that same cellar where she found Jacques. You'd think the humans would see that Jacques is missing and choose a different location but arrogance and returning to the scene of the crime and blah. While the men go find Byron, the women stay behind to gossip and possibly destroy Dr. Shea's blood research (don't you let that bird woman do it, Dr. Shea!) After bestowing the great importance of taking care of Raven and her baby, Dr. Shea rethinks her "Gregori is a vampire" theory. Make up your mind, doctor. Raven is all tuckered out and, if it's only been two days, and she wasn't even acting like tired McPreggo when we first saw her stupid face so either this is a super-fast vampire pregnancy or the author is once again playing fast and loose with biology rules. Ugh. Once again Dr. Shea brings up her father and her life story and Raven feels such sympathy because she's got such a gooood, kiiiind heart. And... oh my God. I just realized something. "Sexy and I Know it" is LMFAO's attempt at "Sexyback"and "Sexyback" is the '00s answer to Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy". That bald stud was bringing sexy back when Timberlake was still prancing around in Mickey Mouse ears (and LMFAO was wiggle, wiggle, wiggling in their Superman underoos. YEah, I said underoos.) Also, if that manwhore Rand is still alive, he might be the vampire betrayer guy. I mean, why mention him over and over and have Byron be a red herring if it's not the manwhore? Then again, it could still be Gregori. Ah well. I'm too sexy for this conversation.

Let's join the three Vampathians in the cloudy, rainy day so no chance of the sun hurting them a bit (darn). Jacques warns them to look for any razor wire and Gregori spots it. The prince thinks it's pretty clever and HOW THE BALLS IS RAZOR WIRE CLEVER? You guys can just turn into mist anyways! They're all Idiots! Agggh. Suddenly a mind-booby trap is triggered and Jacques is having some PTSD flashbacks. Only the power of Dr. Shea's mindlink and her sexy memories of their, um, two days together can help him back down to reality. Lovely. I don't think making him horny will help his hunter's concentration but whatevs, you're the doctor. They sense a human down in the cellar but tread with caution in case there are more traps. Yeah be careful for those paint cans on strings. Idiots times a thouuusand! They find one of those guys who visited Dr. Shea's office and get info on his previous activities. When he thinks about how rape-a-licious the red-headed doctor was, Jacques goes into the Avatar State and even though the pansy Prince wants to stop him, Gregori is all cool with letting him kill the guy. One less amateur vampire hunter to worry about (and he's barely an adversary without the magical cloaking spells or whatever that kept the cellar safe from Vampathian mind reading.)

Can you smeeeeell what the Jacques is cooookiiiing? It's a heaping helping of revenge. Served cold, naturally. Change your pitch up! Smack that bitch up! The guy who helped torture Jacques gets his throat ripped out and dies a worthy death considering he's not only a torturer but a rapist. How gay would it be it Jacques or one of the other Vampathians bit off his penis? Hell, with their super strength and retractable claws (yup, they have those two), they could easily rip off some family jewels to make into flesh earrings while the dude bleeds out. After much struggle between the man and the beast, Jacques listens to his brother and takes the pussy honorable route of leaving the bleeding dude alone to get eaten by wolves. They find Byron who all but tries to blink in morse code trying to warn them of some kind of plan or trap. Possibly the identity of the vampy betrayer. Of course they don't realize it because they (say it with me class) IDIOTS and just put him into hypno-sleep. They find a crude bomb but enough of this actiony suspense, let's see what the wimmins are doins. Boooo.

The expert on Vampathian pregnancy (clearly *scoff*) starts expositioning the baby problems with the Vampathian race. The ancient race have very few females because most of the babies that are born end up dying and even then, many of the babies that survive are male. Dr. Shea thinks it could be nature's way of population control for a bunch of weirdly aging immortals. Hah. I knew there was a reason I liked her, even if it's a mild like. Raven brings it back around to destroying her life's work. Considering the research was for a supposed "rare blood disorder" that turned out to be vampirism, I don't consider it a big loss. But it's still the principle of the thing. The girls get all gossipy again, patting themselves on the back for putting their possessive men in their place even though they're the ones tending to the home while the men go hunting for the big bads. They have style, they have grace. Raven Whitney's cardboard face. Noelle, Maggie, and Shea too. Bella Swann, why do boys love you? Ladies fake an attitude. Their fellas get them in the mood. Don't just stand there, let's get to it... something about Vogue? Ah, screw it.

Dr. Shea gets bad vibes after destroying her useless life's research. She gets her shotgun ready because Raven needs to be protected and being two days pregnant impairs your gun holding abilities, I guess. After some useless attempt at comfort from Raven, the cabin door busts open and in come the other two amateur vampire hunters. The doctor isn't as quick on the trigger as the other guy so she gets shot along with Raven. The men quickly grab her and start beating the crap out of her. Those jackholes. Kill Raven if you must but leave the doctor alive! Actually, according to "the Vulture" that's their orders. Okay, well carry on then. Shea's been sending out telepathic distress signals and just as one of the older hunters tries to stake Raven, Jacques mentally makes Dr. Shea concentrate on the older hunter. Looks like the mind link powers allow him to explode that dude's heart straight out of his chest. Wow. Pretty f*cking hard to believe a race of beings that can channel their powers through a human conduit could get overtaken by a ragtag group of humans and a vampire with a grudge who relies on f*cking razorwire and cheapass bombs because he can't go out in the sun. JUST WOW, CHRISTINE FEEHAN.

The other guy tries to drag Dr. Shea out of the cabin but he's promptly set on fire via the mind link and it's pretty harsh to force the poor doctor to watch the people die when she's dead set (hah) against killing people (then again, wouldn't her profession expose her to the dead and dying, oh I don't know, constantly?) Now it appears Gregori needs Shea's medical help. Well not so much medical but it turns out she has Vampathian style healing powers. Riiight. She transforms into pure, healing light and magically enters Raven's body to stem her bleeding and close up her internal injuries. I could not even make this sh!t up, peoples. While Dr. Shea goes all incredible voyage inside Raven's body, Gregori tends to the tiny baby which shouldn't even, scientifically speaking, be called a "baby", At this stage, isn't this an embryo? How does it have a gender and feeliings of fear and hurt? It just gets even creepier from here; like that whole 'Breaking Dawn' Jacob imprinting thing times a hundred. Ugh. I'm ready to skip this whole stupid passage before the drunkeness makes me realllly incoherent. I'm shocked I'm lasting so long. Hooray for tons of typing and writing practice (and auto spellcheck)... too bad there's no job attached to it. ;___;

Prince Mikhail is still trying to bury Blah Byron and everyone else is just tired after all is said is done. JOIN THE CLUB, DILHOLES. After Jacques reflects on his less-than-stellar courtship of his weary "wife", he helps all the widdle tired vampy vamps go night night in the hidden chamber in the basement of the cabin. Gregori shares a mental moment with Raven's fetus (This is BEYOND Chris Hanson's capabilities!) and as soon as the sun is gone the men are up and off, ready to suck the blood of the innocent to replenish their strength. Stay away from the preschools, Gregori! Dr. Shea's powers of Individuality allow her to wake up and get out of the basement despite the strong hypnosis she was put under. She takes a shower, goes outside and... she's caught by some pale, handsome stranger. Luck would have it be the vampire betrayer. And Jacques will totally use this as a big "I told you so" against Dr. Shea for disoveying his orders and taking a brief walk, ten feet from the freakin cabin. Blergh.

Aaaand the vampy handsome guy trying to get into Shea's veins is none other than the manwhore, Rand! (Hah. Called it. I should start a drunk detective agency; Cap'n Morgan P.I.) Not only that but he seems to be really twisted and confused, convinced Dr. Shea is actually her mother, and he's ready to make her his soulmate. Vampathian Incest Alert! Jerry! Jerry! Jerry! Where's Steve Wilkos when you need him? Dr. Shea is all flusterred after meeting her pervy manwhore daddy that she's tripping. Wait, here comes Jacques. He's no Steve, but I'll take him. Manwhore Rand claims he's not the vampire who tortured Jacques and despite how confused  the author writes Shea, we already know she's not her mother and Jacques isn't the vampire who caused all those deaths. Unless this was some kind of Inception-style Minf*ck, I think we can all assume Ayn Rand was the betrayer and skip ahead, skip ahead, sexist patronizing bullsh!t from the men, skip ahead, skip ahead, cave sex scene(s), skip ahead, skip ahead, rambling villain monologue, preachy speech about love and courage aaaand... the manwhore vampire betrayer gets his heart torn out by Owl!Jacques. And Atlas did not so much as shrug. Nice try, Christine the Anti-Climax Queen (of you know what I mean. Looks like my rhyming skillz aren't too bad after all.)

I skipped over twenty or thirty pages to get to the end and it was all the same repetitive crap with a bunch of characters I've grown to dislike to varying degrees. Even the new guy introduced to help Jacques with some blood grated on me because he reminded me of old Jacques and we all now how *that* turned out. Cripecakes, we have Raven's Mary Sue tendencies and how she *needs* to be protected because she's the future of their race and whatevs, then Prince Mikhail being totally whipped by his wife and being an annoying little prat. Even the characters I liked last book were warped into an intrusive healer douche and a psycho, bi-polar rapist. Dr. Shea, when all is said and done, was a Raven 2.0 who just managed to look good when actual Raven was there to eclipse her with her obnoxious, Mary Sue-ish tendencies.

Everything Christine Feehan touches turns to crap. Characters, solid ideas, any sense of realistic sexyness. Whereas the last book started out craptastic, this book had the gall to initially give me hope with semi-tolerable leads only to dash it to bits by the time the first sex scenes pick up. I've never said such sobering things while being so drunk off my ass. Vodka didn't help at all. Speaking of,  presenting the final word tally for 'Feehan's Dark Drinking Game' (Tally may be off since I finished a 1 LITER bottle of vodka only halfway into the book!! That's 33 shots, everyone. I counted! And I only half-assed a recount the next day when I was more wake. JUST LIKE THE ELECTIONS. Hah.)

Silk: 23       Satin: 12
Need: 382 (Captain Hindsight suggests not including a "passionate" descriptor that doubles as an everyday word!)
Desire: 37 (It's also in the title; hah!)
Erotic: 13    Soul: 54  
Hot/heat: 51/52 (103) (Same message as "need" if you plead.)
Breast: 32 (Way more than I would've thought; and no one had the chicken!)

*Bonus Word*:
Moist: 6 (equals 36 seconds of chugging! Omg, NOT POSSIBLE.)

In conclusion, this series is not for me and in fact, I may just go into hibernation like the damn Vampathians. Get the healing cleansing power of the soil and crap. UNLESS... I get a comment. I hate to be one of THOSE BLOGGERS but knowing what at least one person reading thinks about this would make it all worthwhile. And I won't read or post until I get a comment. And the comment doesn't even have to be in regards to this entry. It can be one of the better entries, like the Stephen King ones (minus The Dead Zone but that should go without saying by now.)

So yeah. LEAVE A COMMENT PLEASE. It would be appreciated. I even turned on anonymous commenting. At least I think I did. I'll have to double check... Meanwhile, I leave you with this. This blog has officially taken a sharp, wrong turn.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Cujo

It's the killer dog book! I've been wondering about this story for a while, with Cujo being synonymous to bad dogs nowadays. Now, I keep mixing up Cujo with Old Yeller, so I'll be expecting the dog to be mercy killed by the end. Sorry if that seems spoilery, right off the bat, but I'm a dog-lover and I want to prepare myself for the worst. I suggest any similar-minded readers do the same. That's the worst case scenario. Best case scenario (besides the evil dog making a mysterious escape ala the evil car, Christine) is that the dog gets cured and reunites with his owners getting all the tasty doggie biscuits his heart desires. Yeah, and I'm Prime Minister of Australia. Now stay, sit, and try not to play dead.

***
The book starts off by surprising me with a "Once Upon A Time" lead. Hmm. Are there sleeping princesses in this book that I'm not aware of? There's no parts in this book either (usually it's three parts) so that's also new. The last book I read with no separations was that book about pyro girls and molesty Native Americans so... here's hoping this book is better. As I was saying. "Once upon a time", there was an evil murderer cop who killed several girls before being stopped by maybe-magic in the form of someone named John Smith. Wait. John Smith? That bland name is ringing some bells. Dead bells in my memory Zone. Oh Christ, this book takes place in the same universe as The Dead Zone? So much for hoping this book will get better. Bleh.

So the Castle Rock Strangler, who we know more about from my Dead Zone review/summary, is long dead but he's used as a cautionary tale and a means to scare the children of Castle Rock into obeying their parents. Eat your veggies or the crazy cop rapist will kill you! And don't expect to be saved by that bland psychic John Smith because he's dead too. We get this backstory as a lead for the line about how "the monster never dies" in that cursed town. So... the monster will come back as an evil dog? Is the monster in the bedroom closet of four year old Tad Trenton? Probably not. Little kids and their nightmares. But this could be a protagonist. His parents come in and offer words of comfort but as soon as they leave the little boy is back to being scared. The monster in his bed starts whispering all ominous as evil monster spirits do. It claims to be the Castle Rock Strangler but since he's not a little girl, Tad is safe. Even so, little Tad keeps having nightmares about the ghostly rapist and his parents try to convince him there's no such thing as monsters. Mr. and Mrs. Trenton aren't originally from Maine (aka: Monster Capital of the World) so you can forgive them for thinking that.

After a brief aside where we meet the oldest, deafest woman in Castle Rock, we get a little flashback, one year ago, where we meet someone much more important. The titular Cujo. He's a big, sweet, fluffy Saint Bernard! D;awww. The Trentons are getting their non-evil car fixed up while they watch their son play with the non-evil dog that belongs to the local mechanic's son. Flash forward to the present where some little girl is violently puking up blood and freaking out her mother. Uh, ominous? Now for something more lighthearted. Cujo is chasing a rabbit in his vast, countryside yard. He's so close, he can almost grab little Peter Cottontail. At least until he chases the rabbit down a hole and gets stuck. So much for lighting up hearts. And since his owners, the Cambers, don't know the cave-like hole exists, it's up to Cujo to free himself. Come on, boy. I believe in you! Aaaand he gets bitten by a rabies-infected bat. Damn. The poor dog gets out, washes himself off in a nearby stream and has some general doggy thoughts before walking back home. Wait, so is the rabies what turns Cujo into the scary looking dog on the book cover? Really? Not a rapey ghost possession or even a canine version of Captain Trips? Oh boooo.

Mr. Trenton is an ad executive who moved to the suburbs of Maine from New York and his attempt at starting his own business is taking a turn for the worse. He's talking things over with his business partner and I must say, I enjoy reading King's description of their huge successes. In the past, they got a burly, tattoo'd guy to advertise swimming fins to get the "swimming is serious business" demographic. They helped cerebral palsy awareness with a black and white picture of a kid, taglined: "Give Us A Hand, Huh?" Wow. Truly they are the Steve Jobs of the ad world. Their biggest client is the "Sharp Company" specializing in, you guessed it. Cookies, cakes, and cereals. Okay, maybe you wouldn't have guessed that. I know I wouldn't have. I guess it's a testament to their competency that they got a company named "Sharp" in the top ten baked goods market. I guess they narrowly beat out Mama Moldy's Muffins and The Poison Donut Co. They even had a commercial where someone pulls out a cake, all silent, that won them a Clio award. Really? That commercial won a Clio? Man, the '80s were overly forgiving. And I think I've spent enough time discussing Mr. Trenton's job situation.

I'll just summarize the meeting and problem by saying, the Sharp company didn't live up to its name when they released a batch of overly bright red, sugar cereal that causes kids to get sick and vomit up what appears to be bright red blood (ooohhh, now I get that thing that's 2 paragraphs up). So Ad Man Trenton has to go to the company's office in New York and try to keep their major client even though that stupid botched red dye was not their fault. Ah, business. Also, Ad Man Trenton is having marital problems. Onwards to a new character, a scuzzy old drunken war veteran. He hates everyone and everything except for alcohol, Cujo, and Cujo's male owners (the alcoholic mechanic Mr. Camber and his son, Brett Camber). The alcoholic gives Cujo a treat but it seems Cujo is feeling ill and cranky. Not puking up blood-red sugar cereal ill, but not good just the same. Odds on the alcoholic being one of Rabid Cujo's first victims are as high as the summer temperatures at that place. (They keep mentioning the heat which just reminds me how cold it is right now.)

It's official. Mrs. Trenton is cheating on her husband. She has fallen into that boredom that many desperate housewives of suburbia seem to do according to steamy books and TV shows. And she had to cheat with some overly tan tennis bum with a temper. Bravo, Mrs. Trenton. While your little boy plays at daycare and your husband tries to save his ad agency, you watch soap operas and get pounded by an over-aggressive douchebag. And she's been picking arguments with her husband, ignoring the real issue of her loneliness and boredom and whatever. It's kind of annoying. At least she finally dumps the guy. Speaking of terrible marriages, it looks like the Mechanic Camber isn't just an alcoholic, he's also abusive towards his wife. Lovely. She's not so timid that she doesn't try to keep her son safe when she can, and she wants to take him to see her sister. Hoping her perfect little sister with her perfect upper class life will inspire Brett to greatness instead of following in his abusive dad's oily footsteps? Okay, what's your plan B?

The douchebag tennis bum (who's a poet to boot) is throwing a little tantrum because he got dumped. He has Ad Man Trenton's business card and decides to write him an anonymous letter to let him know about his cheating wife. The business card has an actual phone number on it: 207-799-8600. I'm tempted to call it and ask for Victor Trenton. Maybe console him on his terrible wife and then yell "Nope, nothing wrong here!" (Because that's a tagline used on one of Mr. Trenton's most famous campaigns. according to Stephen King. Yeah... maybe I shouldn't call.) The Tennis Bum is also running away because he's a coward who likes to wham, bam, no thank you ma'am. The Trentons are having a nice time; even the desperate housewife has stopped her complaining (thank you, cheater's guilt). Little Tad is more than a little sad that his father has to leave for a week because he keeps the monsters away by using a made-up chant known as the "Monster Words". This would be sweet if King didn't make it seem like there actually was something going on in that house. A haunted closet on top of a rabid dog? I've heard of worse plot mash-ups.

While Ad Man Trenton thinks of all the ways his beloved cereal mascot has been lampooned by comics (Stephen King writes out a pretty good George Carlin routine, in my opinion), poor Cujo is battling the throes of onset rabies. Hearing about the pain from the dog's POV does not help with the story arc. It just makes me sad. Somebody get that Saint Bernard a mini-barrel full of brandy! And where are Cujo's owners during his time of need? Well, Abused Mrs. Camber has won the local lottery. Five thousand bucks to be exact, and it looks like she's buying her husband a bribe, er, present, so she could maybe have more leverage when she asks him permssion to visit her sister with their son. The request doesn't seem to go well at first. Looks like the mechanic is more of an a-hole than the previous passages let on. He's ready to belt his own wife for daring to bring up his drinking! Damn. After much bargaining on her end, he decides he'll give permission and then takes her to the bedroom for some unpleasant sex. Well, unpleasant for me, at least. Abused Wifey Camber manages to enjoy it. Okay, now *I* want some mini-barrel brandy to forget that imagery.

Speaking of women in lousy marriages, Desperate Housewife Trenton's little secret has been exposed. Her husband finally got the letter sent by that cowardly tennis bum and he goes through all the stages of grief when finding out the woman he loved was screwing some guy behind his back. First shock. Then sad, unmanly tears. Then anger. Then super anger (the kind where you want to punch the person who hurt you). He's Mad Man Trenton now. When he gets home he tells her about the letter and she confesses. There's not much yelling and she actually says she loves him and he gets all hopeful and it annoys me to know end. Damn it, man! She cheated on you because she was going through some pre-middle age crisis! He isn't sure what's going to happen to them but he does lean on the side of trying to get over this and the Desperate Housewife has the gall to ask him for sex before running off when he asks if she's ever slept with anyone else. Even with her sort-of understandable, long-winded speech about wanting to feel young again, I still sympathize with Ad Man Trenton (and even that sympathy is layered with disgust at his weakness. Don't beat the woman but don't be a doormat!) Ugh. There's entirely too much melodrama and not enough evil dog killing.

Drunk old veteran guy is having some drinks with the Mechanic Camber while Cujo is just laying down in pain. The mechanic plans to go to Boston while his wife and son are on their little trip. He's inviting the drunk veteran so they can really have a blast and drink up all the Boston Baked Beers or whatever alcohol they're known for over there. Cujo nearly bites his young owner on the day of the trip and Brett is worried about his dog. BUT he's more worried about missing the trip if he tells his parents something might be up with the dog. Sigh. I guess even if he did tell them, it's kind of too late. Cujo's symptoms are pretty deep and his murder levels are Castle Rock Strangler high. Yeah. Never though you'd see that name again. Or that line again. God, I despise The Dead Zone. Anyway, Abused Wifey Camber and her son get on their Greyhound bus and Ad Man Trenton and his business partner get on their flight to New York. Time away from their respective crappy spouses should do them good. While I can't get any satisfaction as to whether Ad Man Trenton will acrually come to his senses and divorce his wife, I do get satisfaction from reading that as soon as Brett Camber gets on that bus, he won't see his alcoholic mechanic dad alive again. Stephen King, you magnificent, spoiler loving bastard!

But before we get to that alcoholic, let's start with the other alcoholic. The veteran who immediately recognizes Cujo's foaming mouth and bloodshot eyes as symptoms of rabies. That knowledge doesn't do much good when the giant, nearly 200 pound dog takes down his scrawny, veteran ass. The alcoholic veteran puts up a decent fight but in the end, Cujo rips out his throat and blood gushes out everywhere.How drunk would a dog get off that blood. Meanwhile, the Mechanic Camber is doing some work after canceling future jobs so he can go on his mini vacation. He tries to look for Cujo but the dog is no where in sight. One of his clients, the Desperate Housewife, tries to call him but gets no answer and just cries because life is difficult for a big, ole' cheater-face. Tad is playing with trucks and Star Wars figures and keeping his eye on his closet door. That four year old is surprisingly astute for his age. Stephen King's young characters are always written so much more mature, and sometimes it's cool but other times it's just not believable. Then again, I don't regularly hang around four year old boys so maybe they enjoy Dukes of Hazard and methodical thinking games.

Mechanic Camber goes to visit his veteran friend and boy does he get a shock. Mr. Tough Guy Likes-To-Threaten-Women is suddenly throwing up at the sight of some splattered blood and a ragged, ripped open esophagus. Wimp. Just as he tries to call the police, Cujo appears, in pain and insane. Mr Camber covers his throat and pees himself, trying to fight off the big dog. Naturally Cujo goes for the balls. Hah! Nice. Instead of some descriptive testicle torture, we now follow Desperate Housewife Trenton as she goes shopping in her problematic car. Since she couldn't get ahold of the mechanic to fix it, the car broke down on her way back home and she's so pissed she yells at her son. She apologizes because even she knows it's low to yell at a four year old. Just as she finally gets her groceries home, her phone rings and it's her husband, stuck at a layover or something. She complains about the car, feeling stupid doing it but what else is she gonna talk to him about, her past sexcapades? She lays an "I love you" on the guy (you guilt-laying ho!) and passes the phone to her son before heading to a corner for a long bout of self pity. Please let her be third on Cujo's hit list.

After a heartwarming reunion between Abused Wifey Camber and her sister, we're back with Desperate Housewife Trenton and little Tad. She wants to drive the shoddy Pinto to the mechanic's house but is worried it'll break down on the way so she tries to call a baby-sitter for her son. Tad, however, has a premonition (Really!? A four year old has a concept of this?) and cries that he wants to go with her. Doesn't help that he still senses the spirit of the Strangler in his closet or something. The mom gives up and packs them a lunch. I would not have brought milk to take along in the extremely hot summer weather. She should've frozen some water bottles or juice. Knowing Stephen King, their car will stall halfway there and they'll have to hitchhike/walk back home, their milk spoiling in the heat. And then they'll get spotted by Cujo. That's where a half frozen bottle might come in handy; refreshing treat and functional weapon.

Their car manages to die out just as they get to the mechanic's garage and as soon as Mrs Trenton gets out to unlock her son's seatbelt, she hears good old Cujo growling a few yards away. Even though they're not hitchhiking, my guess was still kinda close. Throw your thermos at him! No, wait. I still like the poor, sick dog way more than the cheating homemaker. But I like the little boy enough to not want him to be eaten by the giant dog. Decisions, decisions. For now, the Desperate Housewife is inside the car with the windows rolled up, waiting for the car to cool down before they can try to drive away to the nearest house for help. She'll have to pass the time by honking the horn, which bothers the sound-sensitive dog. Let's take a look at everyone's favorite secondary plot with the ad agency in trouble. It's funny because I'm half-serious. Reading Ad Man Trenton brainstorm how to solve his business troubles is not depressing or infuriating - it's actual quite interesting. Here's hoping the not-so-Sharp CEO will use their idea of making their mascot apologize. I know I'd have much more respect if a company had their mascot apologize on prime time for past wrong-doings. (I'm looking at you, Quiznos composite rats.)

Desperate Housewife Trenton is still in her car. It won't start for more than a minute before going dead again. She thinks about running to the house and calling for help but chances are the door is locked. Her little boy is very tired which is not a good sign but she doesn't seem to pay it much attention. She hopes the Cambers get back from wherever they are but with Abused Wifey Camber and her son in another state and Mechanic Camber presumably dead and ball-less (Heh), Desperate Housewife Trenton will have to think of a plan B. The two Cambers who haven't suffered at the hands of Cujo are enjoying their trip with their wealthier relatives. They tried to call the house but no one answered and Abused Wifey Camber is considering divorce. Good for you, hon but you don't need to worry about that. Unless your husband had no life insurance and you have no work skills. Even then, you have that rich sister of yours to help. Hopefully.

Let's go to sleep and pin all our hopes on the mailman. That will surely work if your a scared little housewife who's biggest fear the previous day was getting wrinkles on your boobs. The desperate housewife thinks that Cujo's eyes look like something she saw in her son's closet when she was fixing some blankets in there. Huh. Okay then. Her husband is having a more pleasant sleep in his fancy hotel. That is until he has a symbolic nightmare where he goes into a forest inside his son's room and sees his wife and little boy cornered in a cave by the monster in his son's closet. Huh. Okay, I still don't know if that monster is real or not (and if it is real, what does it have to do with a rabid dog?) Meanwhile, in some other nice place, yet another main character is having trouble sleeping. Brett is sleepwalking and dreaming of feeding his dog. His abused mom wakes up to see him, a bit concerned and reading way too much into Brett's ominous words of "Cujo's not hungry no more". I mean, I know the reader can see the ominous symbolism but why does every other character react the same way? Realistically, people would wave off the nightmare or sleepwalking and go back to bed. Maybe think about what they'll have for breakfast. I suggest pancakes.

After waking up, Desperate Housewife Trenton yells at little Tad who's just scared and wants to go home. Need I remind everyone he's four years old (even if he does sound like a twenty year old sometimes). She peed in her thermos and stunk up her car and she's jealous her son is trying to get comfort from his father's Monster Words mantra. Dear God, lady, just get out of the car and die already. There's a mention of that tennis bum who's wondering if her husband got his letter about their affair, and then wrecking up their house when he finds out no one is home. That inconsiderate prick would make great, leathery tan kibble for Cujo. And as for the idiotic hopes pinned on the mailman, looks like Mechanic Camber called to have the mail stopped to his house back when he thought he was going on a crazy vacation with his old alcoholic buddy. Also, the mailman farts a lot. Thank you, Stephen King for the totally unnecessary descriptions (and details) on some wholly unlikeable characters. What? There's more? No, screw it. There's still like 100 pages left and if it's all about the Desperate Housewife and her toddler stuck in that pee-smelling hot box of a car, then I'll throw this book out the window.

Skip ahead, skip ahead. Trapped in the car, less heat at night, injured but crafty dog, delirious duck dreams, liberal use of analogies, more stuff with the Cambers and their upper class relatives, worried Ad Man trying to call his wife. And it looks like the wife is ready to leave the damn car and make a run for the door. No wait, she's chickening out. For the love of- Do it for your kid, you philanderer! Aha! She's putting on her big girl panties and she's getting out. And just standing there. You said you were a high school track star! Ugh. Of course, Cujo is waiting there, hiding by the front of the car. And he attacks her. She doesn't so much fight him off as she tries to get back into her car. Use the adrenaline to kill the dog, you moron! She gets bitten on the stomach and leg. She slams the car door on the dog's head and I'm all but yelling "Slam the door harder and break his neck! Use the car keys to poke his eyes out!" But no. She closes the door and she's trapped and bleeding inside the crappy car with her frightened son. And she's probably got rabies now. Idiot.

Cujo's owners try to call a neighbor to see if anyone is feeding the dog but don't get much information. Ad Man Trenton tries calling his house for the umpteenth time and gets no answer. He's so worried he decides to call the Castle Rock sheriff to send a cop to look in on the place. A cop does go check and he finds the wrecked up living room and kitchen. Ad Man Trenton gets informed and he immediately thinks that tennis bastard wrecked his house and kidnapped his wife and son. (Where's Liam Neeson when you need him?) His business partner is worried and sympathetic. Looks like the partner will have to go to New York and pitch the ad alone. Meanwhile, Abused Wifey Camber realizes her sister has changed. More interested in her money and possessions than her poor past. The abused wifey decides she won't divorce her husband and she'll try to fight the good fight or whatever. Again, no need to worry about that, you lucky little. I mean first the lottery and then this easy out of an abusive marriage? Unless the guy isn't dead. Actually, Stephen King never did confirm whether the mechanic died. We just left with the cliffhanger that he got his balls chewed off and that's it. Argh. It would be just like King to have that drunk mechanic recovering in a hospital or something in the epilogue.

As if it couldn't get any worse, King decides to have poor little Tad have some kind of epileptic fit in the car. His mom can't do anything more than try to keep him from choking on his tongue. She's really angry, swearing at the dog, wanting to kill him. How about putting the words to action, lady? Where the hell are the super mothering instincts like those women who lift cars off their babies? There's about 50 pages left and Ad Man Trenton is finally on his way home so I can only hope they hang on until he gets there and somehow figures out they're at the mechanic's house and somehow doesn't get attacked by the still determined, wounded dog. We get some plucky, detective deducing centered around his wife's missing car. It's kind of interesting to read (would be more so if this were a detective novel) but at the risk of overdrawing this overdrawn book summary, one of the detectives decide to check the mechanic's house to see if Desperate Housewife Trenton's car is there.

The sheriff is sent to check on the mechanic's house and he's surprised to see the car and the woman are there. He's even more surprised by the snarling dog that rushes to greet him. With his teeth. The sheriff didn't call in the sighting (it was procedure and he didn't do it! He's doomed them all!) so now his intestines are hanging out of his body. Looks like that sheriff is now in The Dead Zone. Ahaha... that was awful. Not that he's dead but the joke. And also the book. It's always worth repeating that The Dead Zone was a horrible read. Kind of like this book is turning out to be. Either Mrs. Weak-Ass sprinter makes a run for it while the dog is munching on town cop or she and her son are gonna die. It's hotter than a pyrokinetic's rage and poor little Tad is on his last throes of life because of dehydration.

Final rundown as we near the end: Ad Man Trenton's business partner calls with some good news - they're keeping the big Sharp account for another two years. The detective also found that tennis bum and got him to confess to destroying Trenton's house but not kidnapping his wife and son. Mr. Trenton has some weird freak out when he looks at his son's closet which may or may not be haunted by the spirit of freaky cop rapist. He drives up to the mechanic's house to check things for himself just as his wife is finally nutting up and ready to tap into the fight part of her fight or flight response. Time to make some PETA enthusiasts angry. The desperate housewife desperately grabs a bat (not the kind that bit the dog) that had been in the grass this whole time and starts swinging. She gets the dog in the stomach, in the head and the dog keeps coming at her. She's hitting so hard it splits the baseball bat and then the splintered part gets embedded in the dogs eye. After all that waiting, she finally beat Cujo. And her husband is pulling up too! They're saved!

Or rather just the mother is saved. Tad didn't make it. His mother makes it but not the little four year old who's so wise for his years. I just... I can't... Especially after the recent Connecticut thing. This is unfortunate. I'm not happy. I can rage and text-yell and curse Stephen King but I really should've seen this coming. He always kills off characters I like. He did it in The Dead Zone, he did it in The Stand, he did it in Carrie. And the ad exec takes back his wife which is juuuuust great. Isn't it just great? Donna Trenton, you have failed at being a faithful wife, you have failed at being a protective mother, and you have failed at being dog food. And yet you still have your breadwinner husband to love you. I hope you have that guilt festering inside you for the rest of your lousy life. I wash my hands of yet another despicable female character from the depths of Stephen King's horrible, bastard imagination.

Also, Brett gets himself a new puppy. He's grieving his miserable, alcoholic, mechanic daddy (thank CHRIST for small favors) and his mom is pretty happy about it, just like his mom's sister is happy to be rid of her black sheep family who's so poor they couldn't afford nine frickin' dollars to vaccinate a Saint Bernard. So even the rich sister is unlikable. Nearly every character in this book has a shade of unlikability. Except for the toddler who died. And just to twist the knife of anger and sadness for the dog-lovers reading this (and why would you read this?), there's a line about how Cujo always tried to be a good dog and would give his life for his family if not for that rabies disease. Just think of how miserable and confused the poor dog was as he attacked the people he loved without knowing why. It's just... no.

Thank you, Dead Zone, for tainting yet another Stephen King book. Though you are still number one on my crap list, looks like you've got yourself a number two. Geez, I need some Beethoven to wash away this tale of Saint Bernard bitterness and suckage. Also, Happy Holidays.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

The Dead Zone

Third entry in and I'm already out of order. There's two reasons for this. Chronologically, I was supposed to be up to The Shining by now but I decided to leave that one for last due to sentimental reasons (it's the only Stephen King book-turned-movie I've seen in full... and loved!) Skipping it over, I should be doing The Stand, right? Guess how hard it is to find the original, non-extended version of The Stand? About as hard as it is to squeeze horror out of a Lifetime original movie even if you stick in psychic powers. With that clumsy segue planted, let us go beyond the third and fourth books and into...  The Dead Zone.

Part One: The Wheel of Fortune

I don't know why Stephen King has such an affinity for the number three but not since Carrie has three parts been so unnecessary for a book. This first part is longer than both parts two and three combined and trust me when I say I felt the length. There's also a prologue which basically shows us two events. A young boy, named John Smith (Generic McLastName not snappy enough?) trips while ice skating because he was a show off. He hits his head really hard and when he comes to, he spouts off vague warnings at an older booze-hound who's questioning which of the two sound drunker, I'm sure. Over on the Christian side of the country, a 20-something year old bible salesman named Greg Stillson attacks and kills a guard dog after getting an evil migraine. He drives off, trying to convince himself he's not crazy but  kicking a dog after spraying it with ammonia has to be leaning away from the sanity side.

The first chapter begins on Halloween. Johnny Smith is all grown up and scaring girls with glow in the dark masks. He's a young, new teacher along with his young, overly serious girlfriend, Sarah. And her tightly wound seriousness in her classes is in direct, and opposite, proportion to her seriousness about her feelings for Johnny. See, School Marm Sarah has what I like to call "Bad Boy Fever". Her old boyfriend was a mean drunk, an uncaring companion, and a "passionate" lover despite not giving her many, how shall I put it, "happy endings" in bed. Ugh. If I wanted to read about a self-loathing woman who's aching for her bad boy ex and unsure of herself sexually, I'd read 50 Shades of Vampire Fanfiction. You know what's interesting? Vietnam. And student strikes and various other things that seem to be happening in this early 1970s time. Okay, maybe interesting is not the right word but it's definitely better than hearing about Sarah's intimacy issues with the douche (not her ex, I mean a literal douche. Yeah.)

Johnny's taking her to the Halloween county fair in some little Maine town because if you want some fun, spooky times, Maine is clearly the place to go. These two lovebirds trade jokes and make-out on every single ride and it's actually rather cute. After gorging themselves on hot dogs and Alka Seltzer (Sarah will be wishing for the latter), they stop at the Wheel of Fortune minus Pat Sajak. It's nothing more than a glorified roulette wheel and Johnny, after more or less finding out he'll be gettin' some from Sarah, tests how good his luck really is. He starts small, betting dimes and putting them on the appropriate slots, winning dozens and dozens of dollars. I'll assume it was a lot back 1970s. Johnny's last spin, however, wins him an amount we can all appreciate, even in the new millennium: over five hundred bucks. Sarah's so excited she runs off and pukes. Or maybe it was the weird vibes Johnny gave off when he was concentrating on the wheel that made her stomach all queasy. Looks like Sarah's sexy offer has gone down the drain, along with her breakfast, lunch, and carnie dinner. This turn of bad luck sticks with Johnny even as he's taking a cab home. The cabbie opts to complain rather than keep his eyes on the road. There are metaphors about America's troubles using hot dogs and Nixon and suddenly Greased Lightning comes out of no where to smash into the cabbie.

The Smiths were Asleep when they got the ill-fated call at two in the morning and Mrs. Smith is in a Panic because This Charming Man, through no fault of his own, is in critical condition at the hospital. She's a bit on the fanatical religious side, and I can't help but Ask if Greg the bible salesman sold her that bible. They find out their son got some severe head trauma and is in a coma that can last from a few hours to a few months. I know it's mean of me to wish the Girlfriend In A Coma, especially when she was Still Ill just a few hours prior but Johnny's too young for the Cemetry Gates. After a few days, the parents go back home because What Difference Does It Make if they stay? Sarah grieves in her own way and her students actually behave, taking pity on the supposed Wonderful Woman. Okay, okay any old school and/or indie music fans are probably thinking "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore". I'll stop and continue with my writing in this glowing room where There Is a Light That Never Goes Out. (Yeah, that last one was a stretch.)

There's a little interlude with an unknown killer attacking some defenseless girl due to his own mommy issues and sexual inadequacies. Hmm. Then back to Sarah and the Smiths, where Mr. Smith tries to keep in touch with his son's old girlfriend while Mrs. Smith goes off the deep end, religion-wise. I'm talking UFO apocalypse, prayer stone collecting, believing Heaven is under the North Pole levels of kooky. Well these two interludes are rather depressing. Let's see what dog-killer, Bible pushing Greg Stillson is up to. It's been almost twenty years since we last saw him and he's got the same old crazy eyes but now he's got some power. He's aiming to be a mayor in some small town and he's making alliances with a drugged up biker? I wish I could say this kind of corruption in leaders is surprising but no.

Let's summarize a whole bunch of pages and years to get to something major. After about a year and a half, Sarah starts dating again and she marries a law student and later has a baby with him. I feel like such a girl for wanting her to wait by Johnny's side, especially when I was complaining about the mushy emotional stuff earlier. Logically, I can't blame her for moving on. She wasn't actually a serious girlfriend (they didn't even do the "happy ending" snuggle in bed). Mr Smith got himself injured on some construction job and that killer with the sex issues has officially turned serial; the Castle Rock Strangler. Catchy. We're flying by 1971, 1972, 1973, 1974 and I'm learning a lot about the early 1970s and the huge amounts of rioting, Nixon, the Vietnam War, and rioting Nixon's Vietnam War. Four and a half years after that fateful Halloween, Sleeping Beauty wakes up to a dark room and an impending crap storm.

As soon as Johnny touches his doctor, the psychic link makes a connection and he realizes he's been in a coma for an entire presidential term (impeachment not-withstanding) and they've invented felt tip pens. He's pretty shaken by this revelation but not nearly as shaken as his parents when they get the call. His mom is freakin' ecstatic, of course, and his dad, while teary-eyed, isn't exactly a cuddly bear (who shakes his son's hand after he comes out of a nearly five year coma?) but it's the news of Sarah's nuptials, the girl he wanted to marry one day, that brings reality crashing down on Johnny. When did this psychic horror story become a hospital melodrama? All we need is a '70s version of The Fray. Johnny's soon up and ready for physical therapy. The first part of it consists of a CAT scan and ink blot tests. Johnny can visualize 18 out of 20 image scenarios in his mind. The other two are in "the dead zone" of his brain. Really? That's what this title refers to? I should've taken this as a sign of impending disappointments.

Johnny then spices up the usual testing by grabbing one of his doctor's photos; a picture of his mother from the second world war. He sees intense images of Nazis, and fire, and hospitals, and amnesia. Then he tells the doctor that his mother is alive, living in California under a different name. After confirming, his doctor gets all cryptic wondering what they're gonna do with Johnny. I have a suggestion. Let the poor guy sleep. He just found out his president is Gerald 'Nixon Pardoning' Ford and gas prices are a whopping fifty cents. Plus he woke up just in time to see the rise of disco. The good thing about taking your sweet time to wake up is that medical science marches on. It's advanced so that he can get an operation to fix the ligaments in his legs and maybe he can walk again. The pain after surgery is intense enough that he wants to die. There can't be any worse pain short of a long lost love coming back into your- oh, hello Sarah.

Jokes about cocaine use aside (yup that's their running, inside joke), the two former sweethearts try to make nice and catch up. Sarah laments the what ifs. What if she didn't let him leave her place? What if she didn't get sick from a crappy carnival hot dog? What if I chose to devote my blog to Nicholas Sparks instead of Stephen King? Because right now I'm not seeing much of a difference. Bringing up her rich husband doesn't do much to cheer anyone up and after she kisses him I wanna smack her for getting his hopes up like that. This amount of contact allows Johnny to "see" where Sarah lost her wedding ring. Whoop-de-doo. Sarah's delicate constitution has her throwing up in the hospital's ladies room after that little bout of mind-reading and I have no idea what to make of it. Geez, lady, you change poopy diapers with no sweat but can't stomach Johnny's eyes of premonition? Away with you.

Near the tail end of summer, Rip Van Johnny is on his feet and able to walk, and swim, and all that good stuff. He's even offered his old teaching job and a possible book deal. Of course, fate likes to give the good with the bad. After Johnny has another premonition, in front of a bunch of gossipy nurses, the reporters rush over like paparazzi on a Kardashian. One particularly skeptical reporter demands proof of Johnny's power and with much reluctance, he holds an object of the reporter's and does his trance talk. The skeptic trash talking reporter is so shocked he faints. This wouldn't be so bad if it weren't all caught on camera for everyone to see, including Johnny's heart-weakened mother. One stroke later, he's off to visit his mother with his doctor, Dr Weizak, at his side. They're friends by now and it's kind of sad but at least someone's looking out for Johnny this whole time. His mother dies at the hospital but not before telling him to do God's work instead of running away from his destiny and listen to the little voice in his head when it's time. And then she dies. This is depressing all the funny snarkiness out of me. And there wasn't that much funniness to begin with.

We get a much needed reprieve, however brief, with Mayor Greg whose bible selling days are long gone but his bullying days are still going strong. He threatens some rich kid with a broken Pepsi bottle and manages to draw some blood even with a wicked migraine. Remember when glass soda bottles were common? I don't but nostalgia is neat. Sarah gets upset at her husband for thinking Johnny is some kind of liar, after reading his story in the paper. I guess it's worth noting that she flushed the wedding ring she found, thanks to Johnny's vision. She could've pawned it, especially since her good friend Johnny is up to his elbows in hospital debt, but instead she went and pulled a Titanic on that expensive piece of jewelry. Remember the movie Titanic? I vaguely do and it was a tragic story done right. Living back with his dad, Johnny gets a visit from a tabloid city slicker and he finally unleashes the fury of ten thousand... well, he manages a good shake and boot to the ass before getting a headache. Remember when psychics and religious nuts were actually creepy in a King novel? Okay, I'll stop remembering.

While Mayor Greg is gearing up for a presidential campaign with blackmail and vague threats, Johnny is finally getting himself a sweet slice of lovin'... from Sarah. She wants to repay that sexy promise five years ago by sleeping with him. She brought her infant son and her husband is off in some important Washington meeting and she's talking about how it's the "fair" thing to do and I just can't. I was sad before but now I'm just pissed off. I was ambivalent toward this girl but damn it, now I hate the bitch. What the hell kind of reasoning?!? Cheating, blonde, stupid... it's utter bull... gaaaahhh! After they do it in a barn while her baby naps on the porch, they have some dinner with Johnny's dad and she leaves. According to Mr. King, he won't see her for another three years. Good riddance, and I hope the stretch mark sex was worth it, psychic boy.

I'm sorry. I promise not to lose the little sense of open-minded decorum I try to project on this amateur blog. So a few days after the bitch leaves, Johnny sees his name besmirched in that a-hole's tabloid but he'll put up with angry, misspelled hatemail if he'll finally be left alone to live like a poorer, older Peter Parker. And he would succeed if not for a sheriff that wants him to help find the Castle Rock Strangler. Yeah. Bet you'd never thought you'd see that name again. I was starting to think so too but it's about time we get some deranged killer suspense. Johnny refuses to help, citing his pledge to be normal but he still replays the closest thing to an Aunt May speech in his mind. It seems like it was just yesterday his mother urged him to accept responsibility before she stroked out. Remember? (Okay, okay, I'll stop.) It's not until a nine year old girl gets violated and strangled that Johnny agrees to meet with the Castle Rock sheriff. I feel something inside me grow. A sense of hope and interest. This book may have touched upon horror once or twice but right now, above all else, this story is taking a turn for the criminal/murder mystery and damn if that's not another of my genre interests. Grab that strangler by the balls, Johnny!

A bunch of reporters are at the Castle Rock police station and you can bet they'll have themselves a juicy story whether his psychic power catches the perp or not. Is Gerald Ford not doing anything newsworthy? Well Johnny does identify the killer but the Castle Rock sheriff can't believe it. It's one of his younger deputies, a guy he considers like a son. They compare timelines and it seems to fit, especially when they find a similar murder in another town the young deputy went to for a police conference. After much arguing, a thrown punch, and comparing Johnny to a two-headed cow (really?), they go to the deputy suspect's house and muscle pass his big mama who is just as pleasant as can be expected from a woman who made his son wear clothespins on his penis. As if that wasn't bad enough, she knew about the girls he murdered and helped cover it up. How many male readers are still stuck on the penis clothespin thing? Well worry not because he won't be feeling that misery anymore; the Castle Rock Strangler is found on the toilet with his neck slit and an "I confess" note written in lipstick. The Freudian levels are through the roof. All this while his gigantic mother is downstairs having a heart attack. Johnny killed himself two sickos with one psychic stone. Way to go, Johnny!

And that thrilling little detective work was about fifty pages long. We end part one, and the new year, not on a triumphant note but on Johnny once again being in the spotlight and getting screwed over by the attention. He doesn't get the teaching job because the school board is full of old men who think anything more controversial than rock & roll is borne from the devil's colon. While his teacher friend tried to fight for Johnny's job, it was a no go and Johnny doesn't care if he's got some gift from God. He just wants to stop and be left alone. What are the odds on Johnny changing his mind again and being a psychic detective in part two? You bring the roulette wheel and I'll bring the dimes.

Part Two: The Laughing Tiger

Well at least someone is laughing. I regret skipping the second and third stories in King's publishings but I continue on. If Johnny can handle living this lousy post-coma life, I can handle reading about it. As for the beginning of this part, it's actually a happy start. It's months after that terrible winter of discontent and Johnny moved away to try and start a new life. Thanks to his generic name it's very possible for him to blend in. He finds himself work as a tutor to a rich jock who ‒ get this ‒ isn't a jackass! Will wonders never cease. In between tutoring part time and working at a diner during the night shift, Johnny drives around New Hampshire to see, and maybe even touch, the politicians making their rounds. Everyone has their hobbies, I suppose. It's a very important election year and Johnny manages to get little visions of each politician he can get a hold of. That's actually pretty damn handy when trying to differentiate between mounds of political horsecrap. He even shakes Jimmy Carter's hand and predicts he'll win the presidency. Wait, when did King write this book? 1979? Aww, I was almost impressed. Cheater.

Ah hell, I can't stay mad at King when he seems to be giving Johnny a reprieve from his crapshoot life. And even Johnny's rich employer can see he deserves all the praise and five hundred dollar bonuses for making headway with his son. Hmm, last time Johnny won himself five hundred bucks, he got his legs smashed and his head "dead zoned". Johnny and his boss sit back to watch the news and politics, which is surprisingly timely at the time I'm reading this book what with the presidential election mere weeks away. We get the usual democrat and republican candidate but who's the crazy independent in the lead? It's Mayor Greg with a slew of biker bodyguards, promising the people tons of Arab oil, garbage disposal (into outer space), and all the hot dogs they can eat. Wow. Wait, hot dogs? Last time I saw the word hot dog, a certain school marm thought it was the cause of her illness. Are these symbolic connections or mere coincidences? With Stephen King, you never quite knooooow!

So Johnny has the rich man's house to himself and is enjoying his little life. Even his widowed dad is making a new lady friend. This part of the book is named after a Vietnamese game, as explained by one of the rich man's servants; a bunch of kids run around chasing another kid dressed like a tiger. I think this particular metaphor applies to crazy ole Greg as the tiger, who is harmless yet also dangerous? Johnny lets the metaphor rattle him, as he subconsciously drives over to where Mayor Greg is doing his campaigning. Something about the "man inside the skin-beast" being more like the "beast inside the man-skin". Next to depressing details, this book is chock full of metaphors. The campaign site is crazy. It's crowded and I bet at least half the people are there for the amusement factor or to be "ironic". I know I'd check out a candidate who wore a construction hat and ran around like a bull, promising to get rid of politician crooks. Plus free hot dogs.

Johnny and Greg finally meet. It's brief but that one handshake is apparently the most earth-shattering event of either of their lives. King does not spare the tiger-filled metaphors as Johnny sees a future where Greg is president and things are very blue. Both emotionally and literally. After an FBI agent warns him to stay away from Greg, Johnny has another chat about tigers with the friendly Vietnamese servant. The gist of it being that even non-Americans can see there's something not-quite-right about Greg and like a man-eating tiger, Greg has a taste for blood and must be put down. You can't argue with the finger gun, Johnny. And he doesn't argue too much but he does get all obsessive about Greg Stillson. We get the history of Mr. Ruthless, bible thumping, hot dog purveyor. It is long and full of the usual ups and downs. Dead dad, mom who overlooked his troubles, a born-again stint that endeared him to the Christians and fast tracked him to town support and power. I wouldn't have minded getting this information earlier and spread out. You know, before the massive crap Mr. King's text took on my heart.

Seeing his father get re-married and seeing his old flame, Sarah, pregnant again with her husband and toddler in tow, well it's no wonder Johnny gets drunk at his dad's wedding and starts talking about Hitler. Okay, some context. When you think charismatic, underachiever who's had run-ins with the law but won over his citizens with crazy promises, who's the first name that pops into your mind? If it's Hitler, congratulations. I just implanted that answer into your mind. Much like the Vietnamese servant implanted the idea of actually killing Greg before he gets too much power. Johnny poses the age old internet question: if you could go back in time would you kill Hitler? He asks his new step-mother's father, a World War 1 vet. He's very enthusiastic in his affirmation of Nazi murder. Johnny asks his rich boss who thinks he can pull an Inglourious Basterd and infiltrate and take the regime down from the inside. Johnny even asks his jock student and the answer is surprisingly noble. The kid would kill Hitler even if he got caught and hanged. Now I wanna go around asking people what they'd do if they could go back in time to kill Hitler. I'm sure there's been entire papers published on this Hitler conundrum from both sides of the argument. And I think I've used the word "Hitler" about as much as Stephen King used metaphors in regards to this book.

It's graduation time and Johnny's jock student is pretty damn grateful for all that his tutor has done. He goes in for a manly hug and of course the unthinkable happens. Surprise erection. No, I kid. That psychic premonition thing kicks in and Johnny gets all pale and weak-kneed pleading with the rich parents to keep their son from going to some fancy restaurant because it's going to get hit by lightning and burn down. The whole graduating class is going there and the rich family hesitantly humor Johnny, getting as many students to come over to their place for the party instead. His predictions come true and people in attendance freak out. The jock's new girlfriend has the audacity to accuse Johnny of causing it, like Carrie. I kid you not, Stephen King slipped a reference to one of his earlier works into this book. Dude, you do NOT want to remind me of a clearly superior psychic novel in this bundle of depressing, anger inducing tale of politics, cheating wives, and Godwin's Law.

In the weeks and months that follow that fateful night, Johnny has run off to work at some public construction place and his old rich employer is grateful enough to not only pay off his hospital bills but send him one last check. Guilt is a powerful motivator. So are visions of a grim future which motivate Johnny (who may or may not have caught some residual craziness from Greg when they shared that handshake) into ending Greg's political career once and for all. With a vengeance. It's not enough to dig up dirt on him, since the FBI agent who tried ended up dead. It's not even enough to maim the guy because we had a president in a wheelchair. William H. Taft, right? The guy who was so fat he had to wheel around in a rascal? History was always an iffy subject for me. The point is that John Smith is going to shoot and kill Greg Stillson. He looks increasingly sick and pale but he's a man on a mission. My anticipation levels, they are a'rising!

We are winding down to the end folks. The wheel's about to stop and the tiger is ready to keel over. See, I can do nonsense metaphors too. Johnny scopes out the town hall building where Greg will be speaking. He has a newly purchased rifle and he's mailed some letters to the important people in his life. He waits on the balcony, nearly getting caught by a janitor. When Greg gets up to the podium, Johnny takes his shot. And misses. For the love of- He takes a few more shots and keeps missing but Greg's armed, biker bodyguards don't. At one point, Greg grabs a screaming woman's child and uses the kid as a human shield and of course Johnny can't shoot him then. Johnny falls off the balcony, dying. He feels up Greg one last time and thinks everything has changed because he got some kind of blank vision. Does it mean blankness for Greg or is it just blankness from a dying Johnny? It doesn't matter because poor Johnny is dead and that scoundrel Greg still lives, yelling at his flunkies to shut the mother up and find the camera that took the picture of his cowardly human shield stunt. My goodwill towards Mr. King is gone.

Part Three: Notes from the Dead Zone

Like his first, much better, book about a psychic, the third part of this novel is composed of a few pages of excerpts, transcripts, and Johnny's letters to his dad and former flame. I'll summarize to say: Greg figured out his vision of the future with Greg as president would've involved nuclear war. Johnny was running out of time to put a stop to it because he was discovered to have a brain tumor. Dr Weizak vouches for Johnny's character and his sanity while the kid who took the incriminating picture at Greg's rally is thrilled he's practically famous and muses that Greg's likeability is on par with Nixon and the Vietnam War. Sarah's husband is richer and her hair is grayer but she still finds time to visit Johnny's grave, crying at the unfairness of it all. For the first and last time we agree on something.

So Maine's own Johnny B. Good is dead and Mayor Greg and Cuckhold Sarah are still alive. Not since Cupcake Susie have I shook my fist and proclaimed there is no justice in Stephen King's world. This book makes me want to kick a dog after spraying it with ammonia. Is this a headache I'm getting? No wait, that's allergies. Damn sinuses. That must be why I'm tearing up. Yeah... If I can change the subject a bit, I want to share my discovery that this book was not only made into a movie but also a TV show. Not a short-run miniseries but a proper show with a bunch of seasons and an abrupt cancellation. I guess I could see how this gimmick could've worked; a psychic helping detectives and saving lives. There's at least three shows like that already and they're probably more scary and less depressing than this book.

If there's anything to be taken away from this, besides avoiding roulette wheels and distracted taxi drivers, it's please, anyone who reads this, do NOT confuse The Dead Zone for something closer to The Twilight Zone, like I did. To say this is my least favorite book of Mr. King is to put it lightly. I actually had to put it down several times and debate finishing it. I almost didn't post this summary thing but I had the book already and damn if I wasn't curious and hoping for some kind of happy ending for Johnny (yes, I mean it in every way you may think).

I think my dislike for this book, besides the specific things I highlighted in this review, boils down to less focus on the thrilling horror and more on the depressing unfairness of a crippled psychic's life. If he was a woman and beaten up a little more, this would be a perfect Lifetime original movie. And if this is a taste of Stephen King's attempt at drama, I sure as hell hope it's handled better with his later works like Misery, The Shawshank Redemption, or that story about the four kids finding a dead body. Knowledge of these works is mainly thanks to a Family Guy episode, and I'm pretty sure their manatees can come up with a more engaging plot dealing with "coma" "psychic" "evil mayor" and "hot dogs".

Play me off, Johnny!