My father and I have this running joke. Christmas time I buy him a couple o books, hoping to find a couple of single titles. The only problem is, Dad only reads fantasy. The occasional sci-fi but mostly fantasy. Try to find single title fantasy now a days. I dare you. Then come back here and post the titles for me. PLEASE? Anyway, inevitably I find a series starter for him. He’ll come out of his den halfway through the holidays and glare at me. Muttering. I always ask what’s wrong and he always slams the completed book down on the kitchen table. ‘Another damn series’ he complains. So I trudge over to the bookstore or library to get him any available books. Sign up for pre-orders if there aren’t any. Which of course is too much fuss over him and ‘not worth it’. Silly man, doesn’t he know I’d cross the Desert of Broken Glass for him?
So anyway. Dad got me good. Our neighbourhood had a massive garage sale recently. Dad went walkabout and came back with what he calls ‘one o them girl-fighter, vampire-funny books’ (paranormal) he thought I might like. I should have known by the grin. It was the first in a series.
And yes, I went out and bought the rest in the series. What’s the book? Darkfever by Karen Marie Moning.