Book Review: Turn Coat by Jim Butcher

Book 11 of the Dresden Files

I can’t believe I am at book 11 and I am not sick of Dresden. At all. In the least. Each book I pick up brings me as much if not more pleasure than the first. That seems a bit…weird to me. I will admit I am a series whore. I love a tale that must be told over multiple books. I want to rant at the author to write faster and don’t you dare die before you are done (yes Mr. Jordan I am looking at you sir!) I want to wallow in crazy tangents; I want to know the stories behind the stories. When you bring up a legend, I want to know that in another 20 books or so you might get around to telling me that tale...in full. I may have to start up a new category the UBER AUTORS.

Harry: Look, I’m not asking her to deactivate the tractor beam, rescue the princess, and escape to the fourth moon of Yavin. I just need to know what she’s heard and what she can find out without blowing her cover.

Harry: As far as the Council is concerned, the U.S. Wardens are a bunch of mushrooms…Kept in the dark and fed on bullshit.


Molly: Damn, I’m good
Harry: No argument here…Now we have a name, a lead. One might even call it a clue
Molly: Not only that…I have a date
Harry: Good work, grasshopper…Way to take one for the team.


Murphy: I’d have to get approval from a judge, and I don’t know any of them who would take ‘my friend the wizard’s vampire brother was kidnapped by a demonic Navajo shape shifter’ as a valid justification…


Butters: Oh bite me, wizard boy…you haven’t got a moral leg to stand on. If it’s okay that I’m not a doctor, it’s okay that you aren’t a nurse. So wash your freaking hands and help me before we lose him.


Skinwalker: I will come for you. I will kill you. I will kill your blood, your friends, your beasts. I will kill the flowers in your home and the trees in your tiny fields. I will visit such death upon whatever is yours that your very name will be remembered only in curses and talks of terror.


Chandler: Five of me guarding the door? Are you mad? The sheer power of the concentrated fashion sense would obliterate visitors on sight.


Harry: Because your balls are in a vise and I’m the only one who can pull them out…Okay…That came out a little more homoerotic than I intended.
Merlin: Indeed


Harry: It was like standing in an industrial propane plant with five hundred chain-smoking pyromaniacs double-jonesing for a hit: it would only take one dummy to kill us all, and we had four hundred and ninety-nine to spare.


Madeline: You…are a bad case of herpes, wizard. You’re inconvenient, embarrassing, no real threat, and you simply will not go away.


Nor do we want you to Harry

Book Review: Small Favors by Jim Butcher

Book Ten of the Dresden Files

Oh Harry how I have missed you! I don’t think there is anything that makes me happier (Spotty Chop excluded) than reading the Dresden Files…

Bob: As in The Three Billy Goats Gruff? You just got your ass handed to you by a nursery tale?

Harry: Think of every fairy-tale villainess you’ve ever heard of. Think of the wicked witches, the evil queens, the mad enchantresses. Think of the alluring sirens, the hungry ogresses, the savage she-beasts. Think of them and remember that somewhere, sometime, they’ve all been real…Mab gave them lessons.

Thomas: How do you want to play it if the music starts?
Harry: I’ve got nothing to prove…I say we run like little girls

Harry: I bet you say that to all the guys who glue your stomach back together.

Harry: The shelves were covered with an enormous variety of containers, from a lead-lined box to burlap bags, from Tupperware to a leather pouch made from the genital sac of, I kid you not, an actual African lion. It was a gift, don’t ask

Harry: At one time in my life, a shapeshifted, demonically possessed maniac crashing through a window and trying to rip my face off would have come as an enormous and nasty surprise…But that time was pretty much in the past.

Harry: I figured odds were fantastic that one of them would just hop over me like a Kung Fu Theater extra.

Harry: I followed the trail of smitten fiends. Smiten fiends? Smited fiends? Smoted fiends? Don’t look at me, I never finished high school.

Ms. Demeter: What can I do for you?...Wait. Allow me to rephrase. What can I do to most quickly get rid of you?

Thomas: What does a woman need to do, Harry? Rip her clothes off, throw herself on top of you, and shimmy while screaming ‘Do me, Baby!?’Sometimes you’re a friggen idiot.

Harry: Anybody with an once of sense knows that fighting someone with a significant advantage in size, weight, and reach is difficult…If you opponent has you by eight thousand and fifty pounds, you’ve left the realm of combat and enrolled yourself in Roadkill 101. Or possibly in a Tom and Jerry cartoon.

Karrin: Trying to guilt me into playing worried girlfriend, domestic defender, and surrogate mother figure, eh?
Harry: I figured it would work better than telling you to shut up and get into the kitchen.

We come from the land of the ice and snow...

A year ago Saturday my Roomie passed away.

In college there were 3 of us that were deep into Arthurian legend and things most mystical. The Tiny Pagan Ladies.

When “the Other” and I first found out in August the Roomie was ill we thought. “naw, she’s being dramastical” because we refused to accept anything else.

When a mass was found we thought “screw you mass! We are the tiny ladies and your arse will be kicked. We will have none of you sir! GOOD DAY!”

Later when we were in the hospital room visiting and found out that we had a year we said “Fuck you year, we want more and we will fight with tooth and claw because we love you and don’t want you to go”. Roomie mentioned that she wanted a Viking funeral. She wanted the burning ship and the lamenting of the women. And we said “of course, if you ever die, which you won’t bitch cauz you are on THE LIST. People on THE LIST will die when we tell them they can die and not a moment sooner.“

When I was getting ready to bring the Roomie to her first chemo appointment in October. I got a call from the sister. We didn’t have a year. We didn’t have months. We would be lucky if we got weeks. The chemo might kill her sooner, so she was going home to die.

On Friday October 17th I went to the Roomies house. I had the day off and wanted to read to her. I used to read to her before we went to bed in college. She said she hated the crap I read, but loved to listen to it anyways. I brought Storm Front. The First Dresden book. I knew I had a captive audience. I knew I could make her laugh.

They were getting her ready to take a shower. I told her to hurry her ass up we had reading to do. She laughed. I sat down and played with her kids. A – 5 and F – 2. While we were playing I started to hear commotion. People were running, voices were raised. I kept playing with the kids. They wanted to run around the house, see their mommy and dad, their grand mom and dad, their aunts. F escaped and I ran to grab him. I think I shielded him from seeing anything. No one should see their mommy on the floor. I kept the kids occupied while she was slipping away. The hospice nurse came out after awhile so I could say good bye too.


There was a typical Catholic wake and funeral….Well…we did send her off the best way we knew how. The Roomie’s family told us to meet at the funeral home as the family was going to go to the church together and we WOULD be there. When we (the Other, Laser, Boy Toy and me) got there we were alone. We of course thought that we screwed up the time, but that was ok. The other and I told the Roomie off. “What the hell are you thinking leaving us bitch? Who the hell do you think you are?” and we sang our theme song.

Don’t all friends have a theme song?


As the last note died down. Everyone else showed up. God is good. The Other and I promised each other that whoever went next would get the same send off.

A year later, we drove down to CT to give the Roomie the funeral she always wanted. Laser was working late. Thank God Boy Toy was up for building a Viking ship. He spent hours on making this authentic, knowing all the while that we planned on burning it.


He did a great job. The Roomie I am sure was pleased.





We followed the ceremony as closely as we could. Which means of course that we needed to sacrifice a virgin.




Boy Toy kept watch (Laser was kind enough to watch the wee ones)


The ceremony begins...on a deserted beach, with hurricane winds, open containers of strong spirits and sharp pointy objects...because we love...we love









Naysayers may say "there was no wind, you got it to burn". The reason for this my friends is that not only is Boy Toy a ship builder. He has fire magic.














Our work here is done


Let the gods and goddesses tremble. Fling open the gates of Valhalla. A great warrior has come to reside with you. Tremble. And fear those yet to come.

Book Review: White Night

Book Nine of the Dresden Files

Harry: He’d better not have…I have given him years, years, and I will not be cast aside like last season’s shoes…Never date a beautiful man. It isn’t worth what you have to put up with.

Harry: The Black Council had been, if you will pardon the phrasing, a phantom menace.

Harry: Bring it Darth Bathrobe!

Harry: I was going to say evil, but I’m increasingly unsure exactly where everyone around me falls on the Jedi-Sith Index

Apparently Harry celebrated my birthday with me…

Book Review: Proven Guilty

Book Eight of the Dresden Files

And just when you think you’ve got things figured out…

Harry: Should I survive the conversation. I would then be off to a horror convention, where a supernatural assault might or might not have happened, with a mysterious stranger following me while an unknown would-be assassin ran around loose somewhere, probably practicing his offensive driving skills so that he could polish me off the next time he saw me…Let the good times roll.

Harry: Let he who hath never stonewashed his jeans cast the first stone

Harry: I started to get annoyed, but was struck by the disturbing thought that if I did, I would be coming down on the same side of the situation as Charity, which might be one of the signs of the apocalypse.

Harry: She was in great shape, but no one’s exercise program includes running up several hundred feet of spiral stairs in full mail and helmet carrying a big-ass hammer and a sword.

Book Review: Dead Beat

Book Seven of the Dresden Files

There are life lessons going on here people! Zen and the art of polka

Harry: Mouse liked going places in the car. That the place had happened to be a clandestine meeting in a freaking graveyard didn’t seem to spoil anything for him. It was all about the journey, not the destination. A very Zen soul was Mouse.

Butters: Screw up my life?…I’m a five-foot-three, thirty-seven-year-old, single, Jewish medical examiner who needs to pick up his lederhosen from the dry cleaners so that he can play in a one-man polka band at Oktoberfest tomorrow…Do your worst.

Harry: Took cover…in the action business when you don’t want to say you ran like a mouse, you call it ‘taking cover’. It’s more heroic.

Harry: Listen to me…we are not going to die…and do you want to know why? Because Thomas is too pretty to die. And because I am too stubborn to die…and most of all because tomorrow is Oktoberfest, Butters, and polka will never die.

Book Review: Blood Rites

Book Six of the Dresden Files

Why are you reading a blog when you could be reading…?

Thomas: An errand is getting a tank of gas or picking up a carton of milk or something. It is not getting chased by flying purple pyromaniac gorillas hurling incendiary poo.

And though I think you don’t need to read anything more. THAT should have been enough.

Harry: Run away. Me and Monty Python

Harry: Ye canna change the laws of physics

Ok so those two mean nothing to you and something to me. But that’s why I love these books so much. I could actually see myself hanging out with Harry (or Butcher for that matter) we would have things to talk about, things to laugh at. That’s the most important thing about your friends, they get you.

Camping with a 4 year old or Memorial Day 2009 at Fransted!

Our first camping trip of the season is behind us. A grand time was had by all. The weather was great Friday and Saturday. We had campfires. We threw rocks in the water. We threw more rocks

in the water.

We went to Littleton and made our annual trip to Chutters and Aylakai. We stopped in at a silver shop so that I could buy a new chain for my turtle necklace. Spotty Chop and Boy Toy roamed around. Apparently Spotty found some things that were beautiful and wanted me to see them because I would “LOVE THEM”.

He first brought over a ring

Then a bracelet

As he moved on to some other pieces Boy Toy dragged him out of the store…I wonder if my purchasing everything he showed me had something to do with that?

Chutters was a lot more fun for Spotty as his candy requirements are becoming more refined. All I know is I managed to leave there with a $7.00 bag of Kettle corn.

I had a really scary moment while we were camping. There are usually lots of dogs at the campground. It’s not specific to this campground, I think folks with pets see them as part of their families and this is one vacation you can bring your pet with you. There was a beautiful husky puppy that a young girl would walk around the campground. While Spotty and I were throwing rocks off the bridge she came walking by. She told us the puppy loves kids.

I always make it a point when I am with Spotty to ask before I touch a dog. I think it’s a good habit to get into. Spotty and I were both excited to see the puppy we petted, cooed, did all the things you do when you see a pretty puppy. Spotty and the puppy were playing a game of tag across the bridge (hindsight) and at one point the puppy almost knocked him off the bridge. I was able to quickly get to Spotty and make sure he did not fall over. Another couple walked by with their much smaller dog and the puppy went after it (not in an I WILL EAT YOU, more a “let’s play LETS PLAY kind of way.)

I almost threw up realizing how close to harm Spotty came. He could have broken his neck/back, worse….we had another incident with the girl and dog later on in the weekend. Jack and Rita asked how Spotty got all cut up and we explained what happened. They suggested we go to the mom and explain what happened. I did plan on it, but between making sure Spotty was fed and a fire built to keep us warm, I never got a chance. If they are there the 4th I will pull the mom aside. I don’t want to get the girl in trouble; I just think she needs to perhaps take a class with her dog if she is going to be the primary trainer.

Sunday it rained, and rained and rained. Lucky for us we have a “TENT”. Vaude. Learn the name, buy their tents. God bless German know how. Boy toy and Spotty went off in the rain to throw rocks in the river. I was by myself for the first time in…I have no idea. I read. Sunday was also Murdock’s Birthday. Before the festivities we played mini golf and ping pong. Then there was cake and ice cream.

Monday was gorgeous. Of course it was time for us to go home. We grabbed sandwiches and headed to the basin for a mini hike. Which required our 40th change of clothes.

I will pack accordingly for the 4th

.

Book Review: Death Masks

Book Five of the Dresden Files
I don’t know what more I can say to get you people reading this…unless it’s this…

Harry: Susan Rodriguez was a reporter for a regional yellow paper called the Midwestern Arcane. She’d grown interested in me just after I opened up my practice…We’d gotten involved, and on our first date she wound up lying naked on the ground in a thunderstorm while lightning cooked a toadlike demon to gooey bits.

Harry: Someone stole the freaking Shroud of Turin?

Harry: Murphy was a monster-hunting Valkyrie. She was the only person I’d ever heard of who had killed one with a chainsaw.

Harry: You get handed a holy sword by an archangel, told to go fight the forces of evil, and you somehow remain an atheist. Is that what you’re saying?
Sanya: “…it is possible that I am mad, and all of this is a hallucination.

Harry: In this corner, one missing Shroud, one impossibly and thoroughly dead corpse, one dedicated and deadly vampire warlord, three holy knights, twenty-nine fallen angels, and a partridge in a pear tree….And in the opposite corner, one tired, bruised, underpaid professional wizard, threatened by his allies and about to get dumped by his would-be girlfriend for John Q. Humdrum…Oh yeah…Definitely bedtime

Book Review: Grave Peril

Book Three of the Dresden Files

Are you hooked yet? Have you picked this series up? I am not going to tell you about the books until you do.

Harry: Even days that culminate in a grand battle against an insane ghost and a trip across the border between this world and the sprit realm usually start out pretty normally. This one, for example, started off with breakfast and then work at the office.

Michael: I still can’t believe, that you came to the Vampires’ Masquerade Ball dressed as a vampire
Harry: Not just a vampire, a cheesy vampire. Do you think they got the point?

Michael: Blood of the Dragon, that old Serpent. You and yours have no power here. Your threats are hollow, your words are empty of truth, just as your heart is empty of love, your body of life. Cease this now, before you tempt the wrath of the Almighty…Or before my friend Harry turns you into a greasy spot on the floor.

Who’s Michael you ask? Well here’s what Harry had to say

Harry: Let that be a lesson to you. Hands off the Fist of God.

Are you sure you don’t want to be reading this?

Book Review: Fool Moon

Book Two of the Dresden Files

Harry is back at it with new friends and enemies.

Harry: Werewolves jumping through windows at gangster’s lackeys in unfinished restaurants. A mangled corpse in the middle of a blood-drenched floor. Berserk FBI field agents drawing guns and shooting to kill. A little kung fu, a little John Wayne, and a few casual threats. So far…just one more night on the job.

Harry: “Cheer up Harry. I told myself. “You’re just going to go poke around a biker gang’s lair. Ask them if they happen to have killed some people lately. What could possibly go wrong?”

Harry: “So there I was being strangled by a ranting, half-naked madman in the middle of the woods, with a she-werewolf dangling from a rope snare somewhere nearby. My gunshot wound hurt horribly, and my jaw throbbed from where my buddy the cop had brutalized it the night before. I’ve had worse days. That’s the great thing about being a wizard. I can always tell myself, honestly, that things could be worse.

Harry: “A stuffed animal, man!” I roared at him. “Don’t mess with a wizard when he’s wizarding”.

Have you started reading yet?

Book Review: Storm Front

Book One of the Dresden Files

This is one of my favorite series. I think I am drawn to smart asses.

Instead of giving a bit of a recap, I am instead going to do what I do for my DVD obsessions. Give you quotes. If this doesn’t grab you the series is just not for you.

Harry: Paranoid? Probably. But just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that there isn’t an invisible demon about to eat your face.

Harry: I extended the staff toward it, horizontally like a bar, and shouted , “Out! Out! Out! You are not welcome here!” A touch dramatic in any other circumstance, maybe-but when you’ve got a demon in your living room, nothing seems too extreme.

Harry: A roomful of deadly drug. One evil sorcerer on his home turf. Two crazies with guns. One storm of wild magic looking for something to set it into explosive motion. And half a dozen scorpions like the one I had barely survived earlier, rapidly growing to movie-monster size. Less than a minute on the clock and no time-outs remaining for the quarterback. All in all, it was looking like a bad evening for the home team.

Best of all? His books are in the double digits