eye lyke two reed

So, I finally finished "Dead Until Dark," the book tyranist bought for me more than a month ago. He, of course, finished it approximately eight minutes before even picking it up, but I've long since learned that competing with him is like trying to out-bodyhair Robin Williams, or out-whore Madonna.The story is about Sookie Stackhouse, a Southern waitress afflicted with the ability to read minds. In her world, vampires have recently announced themselves to exist, and have been co-mingling with regular folks and drinking synthetic blood. Into her little town comes Bill Compton, a vampire who owns the big house near to Sookie's grandmother's, and they hit it off pretty much right away.

There's some murders, a little sex, some vampire intrigue, a little more sex, a vampire Elvis, and a dog shapeshifter, and there are apparently several books in the series (all with "Dead" in the title).

But the lateness of the hour notwithstanding, I quite enjoyed the book, and was telling Merrill about it the other day, trying hard not to invoke comparisons to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," or worse, those gorram "Twilight" books.

A hundred years plus Stoker's "Dracula," I never would've thought that there's still room for interesting vampire stories, but hey, I'm wrong a lot.

And it's funny, I still can't get used to the name Sookie Stackhouse.

Rish