Book 80: Dead and Gone

Dead and Gone by Charlaine Harris

This is the ninth of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, and as usual, it was a nice quick read when I couldn't focus on deeper novels due to distractions. The novel begins as the shapeshifters decide to come out of the closet, assuming that if the vampires could get a pleasant reception, then they should definitely have no issues being welcomed into society: after all, they are human most of the time.

While things go well on the actual night in Bon Temps and at Merlotte's, Sookie becomes distracted with other things in the next few days (vampire politics, FBI agents wondering how she was able to help save people after an explosion in a previous novel), and only starts noticing some of the more negative effects of the coming out a little later. Her brother's pregnant, and soon-to-be ex-wife, is found dead and nailed to a cross - a possible hate crime against shifters?

Meanwhile, there is a war going on among the faeries - between those that think there should be a connection to the human world which include Sookie's great-grandfather and those that oppose him. Sookie and her friends soon find themselves targets in the middle of this.

She is also still trying to sort out her feelings for Eric and her blood bond with him, and Quinn the tiger also attempts to get in touch with her (honestly, I felt like they had a clean break, and I saw no reason to reintroduce him to the plot).

Overall, it wasn't bad but I have my usual complaint: Harris doesn't have to mention every single character in every novel . . . yes, it's nice to see old favorites but I'd rather see a lot of them less often than a few paragraphs each novel. MINOR SPOILER: Also, I feel like in some ways Harris was cleaning house in this novel, which isn't bad, but I wish all the deaths of actual characters could have had a bit more time devoted to them. While I like the Sookie of the novels much more than the Sookie of the books, I still don't quite understand why everyone is so willing to die for her . . .