Stars: 2 out of 5
This was a letdown from book one, to be honest. I liked Quinn in the first book – she was foul-mouthed and irreverent, and as far from a typical urban fantasy protagonist as you can get. It was fun and refreshing. Unfortunately, the author went all in on that concept in this book. And this is the case in which too much good stuff spoils the brew, at least in my opinion.
Quinn is so snarky, vulgar, and unapologetically evil in this book that it stops being funny and gets rather annoying. Why would I care about what happens to her in this book if she is no better than any of the bad guys? If she is, in fact, also a bad guy who admits that she loves playing with her food and gets drunk on the terror and suffering she causes as much as on the blood she drinks? I like my anti-heroes at least somewhat redeemable. Oh, and that “yeah, I’m a monster, that’s what monsters do, get over it” attitude the author chose to endow her with doesn’t help much either.
My other issue is the constant breaking of the fourth wall Quinn does in her narrative. It’s fun when it’s done once or twice, but when it’s continuous, it gets old fast. Especially when you insert a freaking short story in the middle of the story… That dampens the enjoyment just a tad.
But the biggest issue I have with this book is just how stupid all the characters are. Yes, Quinn repeated several times that a detective she ain’t, but she can at least try to use her brains once in a while, no? Or all those other high and mighty demons, necromancers, and adjacent who want the magical dildo, what exactly was their thought process behind all this? Sit on their hands and wait until the artifact drops on their lap? Throw the most retarded of Mr. B’s minions at it and see if she can find it? That’s a bold strategy, let’s see if it pays off for them.
I kept waiting for Quinn to at least try to use the few brain cells she hadn’t fried with drugs in her past life to try to investigate this, but she never did. I mean, there is no real mystery in this story, no plot Quinn has to puzzle over. She just stumbles from one deus ex machina event to another (and even jokes about it, ha-ha) until she is miraculously alive in the end. And by the way, the author never even tells us how she manages that particular feat, probably because she ran out of ideas on how to make it plausible.
In the end, I was mostly irritated by the story and couldn’t care less who ended up with the magical dildo. Also, why would anyone even want this thing in the first place? It’s cursed. Whatever fleeting bliss it gives you, you forget the moment it’s over, so what’s the point?
More importantly, I grew more and more irritated with Quinn, to the point that I didn’t even care how the story would have ended. I mean Quinn tells us halfway through that she survived to tell the tale, so even that suspense is gone out of the narrative.
As it stands, I have no desire to pick up the next book in the series. I believe that Siobhan Quinn and I will be parting ways right here.