Sunday, June 6, 2010

The Laughing Corpse by Laurell K. Hamilton

The Laughing Corpse by Laurell K. Hamilton

Year Published: 1995

My Rating: 5 stars

320 pages

This is the second book in the Anita Blake series.

I don't know what made me wait this long to read the second book although I totally enjoyed the first one.

Harold Gaynor offers Anita a million dollars to rais an ancient zombie, but since that means sacrificing a white goat, she declines.
Then a the most dangerous voodoo priestess offers a partnership with Anita that she also declines.
Meanwhile dead mangeled bodies are turning up everywhere, which means a serial something is out there, could it be a killer zombie? If it is who raised it and lost control?
While all this is happening Jean-Claude the gorgeous hot vampire is insistant on making Anita his human servant :D

This was an action packed that reads so fast, it's an amazing book that I enjoyed greatly!!

The third book is already ready to be read :)

You ROCK Anita!!

Quotes I enjoyed from the book:

Even teenagers with automatic pistols fear things you can't stop with bullets no matter how good a shot you are. silver plated bullets will harm a vampire, but not kill it. It will kill a lycanthrope, but not a zombie. You can hack the damn things to pieces, and the disconnected body parts will crawl after you. I've seen it. it ain't pretty. the gangs leave the Senora's turf alone. No violence. It is a place of permanent truce.

"No, Manuel does not talk to me anymore. His little wife forbids it." That last sentence was angry, bitter.
Oh, God. the most powerful voodoo priestess in the Midwest was acting like a scorned lover. Shit.

"You raise the dead, the zombie, and you do not deal in vaudun. Oh, chica, that is funny." Her voice sparkled with genuine amusement. So glad I could make her day.

The thing behind the door made a mewling sound. I couldn't tell if it was human or animal. It was bigger than a person, whatever it was. And it was dead. Very, very dead.

The smell of some expensive perfume floated around her. Powdery and fine, like talcum powder in your nose, sweet, flowery. Underneath was the stink of rotting flesh. It wrinkled my nose, caught at the back of my throut. The next time I smelled this delicate, expensive perfume, I would think of rotting flesh. Oh, well, it smelled too expensive to buy, anyway.

"Manny?" My voice was a hoarse whisper. This, for me, was worse than the zombies. The hell with strangers. This was Manny, and it couldn't be true.
"Manny?" I said it again. He wouldn't look at me. Bad sign.

"She knows nothing of the deeper magics. She cannot harm me, and she is too morally superior to commit cold-blooded murder."

"But, Anita, I already have a buyer for her."
"Oh, Jesus, you don't mean... Oh, God, a necropkiliac."

He pulled into the far lane. It seemd to be going a little faster. It slowed down as soon as we pulled in. Murphy's law of traffic.

He wasn't that tall, maybe five-eleven. His shirt was so white, it gleamed. The shirt was loose, long, full sleeves made tight at the wrist by three-buttoned cuffs. The front of the shirt had only a string to close the throat. He'd left it untied, and the white cloth framed the pale smoothness of his chest. The shirt was tucked into tight black jeans, and only that kept it from billowing around him like a cape.

Most people die and go to heaven or hell, and that's that. But a few, for whatever reason, don't work that way. Ghosts, restless spirits, violence, evil, or simple confusion; all of these can trap a spirit on earth. I'm not saying that it traps the soul. I don't believe that, but some memory of the soul, the essence, lingers.

Vampires were once ordinary human beings; zombies, too. Most lycanthropes start out human, though there are a few rare inheritd curses. All the monsters start out normal except me. Raising the dead wasn't a career choice. I didn't sit down in the guidance counselor's office one day and say, "I'd like to raise the dead for a living." No, it wasn't that neat or clean.
I have always had an affinity for the dead. Always. Not the newly dead. No, I don't mess with souls, but once the soul departs, I know it. I can feel it. Laugh all you want. It's the truth.

Most people fear the dark in a vague way. They fear what might be out there. I raise the dead. I've slain over a dozen vampires. I know what's out there in the dark. And I am terrified of it. People are supposed to fear the unknown, but ignorance is bliss when knowledge is so damn frightening.

"Anita, If you hurt me, it hurts you. I could survive the strain of your death. The question, amante de moi, is could you survive mine?"

His partner was standing on the other side of the car, leaning his arms on the roof of the car. "It's a kick to finally meet the spook squad's Executioner." He grinned as he said it.

I am an animator. I am the Executioner. But now I know I'm something else. The one thing my Grandmother Flores feared most. I am a necromancer. The dead are my speciality.

2 comments:

Vivienne said...

I had completely forgotten about this series and I really enjoyed the first book when I read it last year. Thanks for reminding me how good they are.

DeSeRt RoSe said...

Vivienne, yeah it's really good, I've finished the 3rd and already started book 4 already.. Loving it !!

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