Cerulean Sins Chapter Sixteen

"The first crime scene was in Wildwood, the new bastion of money and social climbing."

Something about this sentence hits my ear all wrong. I am not quite sure what the problem is, but it's awkward, even stilted. Also holy shit, I did some research on Wildwood and it is 92% white.

Does Anita judge the people here for profiting from gentrification, or presumably keeping what few PoC there are out of such an exclusive address? Or perhaps, if we absolutely must judge someone (and it's an Anita Blake book, so of course we do), we might judge the idea that one has only achieved success if one beats out one's neighbors in total material goods owned. But no. Despite these ripe pickings Anita chooses to judge the faceless occupants of this rarefied address for living "in the middle of nowhere." 

And why has Anita picked such a nonsensical thing to bitch about? Why, because the only reason she lives in a similarly out of the way area is because "I didn't want my neighbors to get shot up."

BECAUSE SHE'S A BADASS, YOU GUYS. YOU CAN TELL SHE'S THE HEROINE BECAUSE HER LIFE IS SO DANGEROUS. Except when the entire world stops so she can have unfulfilling grinding with whatever unfortunate walking penis happens to be near her at the time.

I mined all of that outrage from the first paragraph. Oh, this chapter is going to be a gem.

Anita is still so sick that she's light sensitive. Jason has to pull over at one point so she can puke. Here's a thing I don't understand (that I am sure I've bitched about a hojillion times at this point). Why don't supernaturals have their own hospitals? I mean, fine, let's say that discrimination means they're not comfortable using human oriented hospitals. But why don't Cherry and Lillian and whoever else start something? At least a clinic. There's no reason for her to be fighting through the symptoms of blood loss like this. Good lord I don't think she's even thought to have some damn orange juice and a cookie. Even the blood donation bus gives you orange juice and a cookie.

"Today all the bright greens meant that whenever my vision swirled, it did it in Technicolor green like a frog smeared across my vision..."

Never have I encountered an author with such a tin ear for language. Really? A frog? Here's one of the best pieces of writing advice I have ever received: at some point in your editing process, go through your manuscript and find every analogy and metaphor. Make sure it is neither cliche nor overly purple. Bam, your book is now a thousand times better than it was before you did this. I wonder if I can come up with anything this bad? LKH I hate your writing the way a turkey hates Thanksgiving. Okay decently bad but maybe too cogent. I hate you the way I hate cheap Maybeline eyeliner, sold by a woman who dreams of being a movie star, who will come home to a one bedroom apartment and warm Soup for One in the microwave. MY HEART IS THE MICROWAVE. IT WILL NEVER DEFROST FOR YOU LKH NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU PRESS THE START BUTTON.

Anita is sicker than she should be for some reason because Asher is a naughty boy. She takes a moment to once again tell me that everything is green, but she mercifully leaves helpless woodland creatures out of it this time.

LKH hits me with this:

"at least I'm not nauseous, anymore when I look at trees."

Okay so comma placement is often arguable and stylistic but come the fuck on. Plus goddamit woman you were sick to your stomach a sentence ago and suddenly you're not?

Anita actually cops to having sex with J.C. and Asher. Explain to me why treating Nathaniel's dick like it's going through a full service carwash isn't sex, but Asher dry humping her lady lumps is.

HOLD THE FUCK ON. HOLD ON. Anita is a federal marshal now which pfft whatever might as well give her more meaningless cool points, but she also reveals that she is paid per kill. WHAT THE FUCK. Law enforcement in this world is paid to kill people? You could argue that's technically true in the real world--U.S. police don't exactly look good at the moment, and deservedly so--but just...outright? They're paid per kill and no one sees a problem with this? FINE I mean, it could be all World of Darkness style, right? Like our world but worse? Except I don't think LKH does a good enough job establishing the world building for me to buy this. PLUS there's a GODDAMN GOOD REASON we don't put market value on say, people's organs. The fact that we have for profit prisons is already a sickening tragedy of epic proportions. To think they've basically painted a target and a dollar sign on every vampire's face MAKES ME VERY UPSET WITH THIS ENTIRE CRAPSACK WORLD.

Anita then confirms that she wants the badge so she can kill whoever she wants in whatever jurisdiction she happens to be in.

Random cop #49468349 doesn't like having Anita there because she's a "fed." This is fairly realistic, I guess, but considering every single cop she meets has it out for her in some way it's just the same fucking shit again.

Anita is wearing three inch heels. The woman couldn't get all the way here without barfing, but the first shoes she thinks to grab are three inch heels. Plus we get a stupid description of Jason that serves only to remind us that he's bandaged up thanks to Anita's convulgasm from earlier. 

You know what annoys me about Anita? Aside from everything, of course. She's so sure everyone around her gives a single shit about her sex life. She's like a teenager right now, assuming that Jason's wounds are just oh so scandalous gasp! when this random cop probably just wonders why they're both dressed like goddamn idiots. 

Anita claims that because she is a federal marshal she can enter any crime scene she wants whenever she wants. Admittedly I am no expert on the marshals but I am pretty damn sure that's not how it works. (they have an interesting history though and have been on both the side of the oppressor and the side of the oppressed at different times...well worth a read). Their job is to help the federal government, and a lot of the jobs they do aren't very glamorous and have to do with paperwork. Their main 'cool' function is to apprehend fugitives, so I have no clue what marshal status has to do with Anita's job. I am definitely not sold on this enter any crime scene I want whenever I please thing. Also DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN would SOMEONE in St. Louis law enforcement do their fucking job and set up a proper crime scene? In a proper crime scene, there are cordoned off areas for investigators to walk, there are sheets where you sign in and out, there are booties to wear and hairnets to don. You don't turn up in three inch heels with a civilian in tow and expect to tromp on through because you have some fantasy land badge that gives you carte blanche to be a ridiculous human being.

Of course I don't really think of Anita as a human being. She's more like a skinsuit being jerkily manipulated by personified neuroses. I keep expecting tentacles to come out her nose. 

This cop's name is Jenkins. Come on with that low effort bullshit. That's like named him Cop #59. 

So the way our intrepid heroine handles the fact that Jenkins doesn't want to let her in to the crime scene? She peels the bandage away to show her vampire bite. How in the fuck that is supposed to help, I have no idea. If anything, in a world where we've beaten about the head and shoulders with the notion that supernaturals are discriminated against, it should make her less trustworthy, and less likely to get a pass in to the crime scene. Of course because in Anita's world even random strangers are interested in her trashy life, this works. 

Anita knows she doesn't actually have a legal right to the scene, but she doesn't care. Best law enforcement officer ever!

THIS CHAPTER WAS ONLY THREE PAGES LONG AND I HATED EVERY SINGLE SECOND.