The setting is familiar, the brand names are ones we all know.

Still, the heart of the books is the characters – Anita and the two men in her life, as well as an ever growing supporting cast of humans, lycanthropes and vampires.Īnita’s world parallels the real world for the most part. There’s occasional magic, plenty of action and enough weaponry to keep Rambo smiling through another half dozen films. There’s more than a bit of blood and guts, the occasional gobbet of flesh gets tossed aside, body parts are detached in various and sundry painful fashions and lots of people – human and otherwise – are dispatched in permanent and frequently painful ways. The romance is only one element in a potentially mind boggling mix of genres.

I just had to find out what happened with Anita and Jean-Claude and, after the third book, Richard.ĭespite my obsession with Anita’s love life, these are definitely not romance novels. One very sexy vampire, one reluctantly attracted vampire executioner, a single kiss, plenty of sexual tension and I ended up ordering the rest of the books and devouring them all in less than a week. I started out innocently enough with Guilty Pleasures. Since I’ve written more than forty romance novels, it’s no surprise that it’s the romantic element that drew me into Anita’s world and kept me turning pages through all nine books. Hamilton, a wickedly talented writer whose Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series smashes through genre boundaries, combining elements of mystery, horror, action, fantasy and romance.

So, how did a wuss like me end up addicted to a series of books about a vampire executioner and her two lovers – one a vampire, the other a werewolf?īlame it on Laurell K. I suppose I don’t have to tell you that I’ve never read Stephen King or Ann Rice, seen a Freddie Krueger movie or ventured into any haunted house attraction that a toddler couldn’t handle.

Remember the velociraptors in Jurassic Park? The night after I saw the movie, I had trouble falling asleep because, every time I closed my eyes, I could hear that peculiar little purring noise they made and I’d have to open my eyes to see if one of the little darlings was slinking through the bedroom door. But I’m also cursed – or blessed, depending on your point of view – with a better than average imagination. You know, ghoulies and ghosties and long legged beasties? Intellectually, I know there are no such things. I’ve heard confession is good for the soul so, in the interests of soul improvement, I’ll confess that I’m afraid of the dark and the things that might go bump in it. Why I’m Obsessed with Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter

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