Bloodfever: You Give Me Fever....FEVER

Making the Grade: B+

For My Thoughts


This is the 2nd book in the fever series. I like to call it Bloodfever: The Hunt for Red October OOP (objects of power). For those of you that don’t know, I caved to all the twitter pressure a couple of weeks ago and decided to move this series up to the top of my TRB pile.

For those of you wondering - yes I am developing a “slight” fever. It’s not quite full blown yet, but I have a feeling after I finish books 3 and 4 (Faefever and Dreamfever) that I too will be in full “fever” mode and will be joining the drooling masses eagerly awaiting the final book in the series Shadowfever which releases in January 2011.

On a side note I have made a surprising discovery - I’m not minding the 1st person narration (maybe you can teach an old dog a new trick?).

I received many warnings and saw many comments and tweets about all the WTF endings Karen Marie Moning employs in these books. The good thing for me about starting this series late in the game is I don’t have to worry about those cliff-hangers - well maybe just a little ( come on book 3 you better get here this week in the mail!).

For anyone who watches a continuing TV series, the cliff-hanger ending is a well known, well used ploy. Watch a favorite show faithfully every week and then come the end of the season get hit with a shocker ending that leaves the loyal fan gnashing their teeth and traumatized at having to wait months for new episodes to return in the fall. It’s a darn good marketing tool - always leave your fans foaming at the mouth wanting more. This series is no different and while Bloodfever did end on a bit of a cliff-hanger, I felt it was more of a whoa moment - didn’t see that one coming about the evil little Sinsar Dubh book.

Bloodfever continues the tenuous relationship forged by need between Mac and Barrons. He’s the muscle and she’s the brains - or the OOP detector. However you describe their relationship, it is clearly evident that they need each other.

Trying to get Barrons to come clean about anything is like trying to pull teeth. He operates on a need to know basis and frankly he doesn’t think Mac needs to know anything - she’s just supposed to trust everything he says and does. We do get some answers, but way more questions arise. I had an epiphany while reading Bloodfever. It’s the literary version of the the TV show Lost. Always teasing us with little tidbits of information before piling on a ton more questions.

I liked that Mac has grown and matured considerably in this book - but it’s not like she had a choice exactly. Mac proves in Bloodfever that she realizes the weight of expectation her powers have placed on her shoulders and she’s willing to step-up to the plate and do whatever it takes to stay alive including eating some pretty nasty stuff.

Like Mac I can’t tell the good guys from the bad. Everyone is using her and telling her things to further their own agenda. She doesn’t know who she can trust and neither do I. I am more convinced then ever that although Barrons is one big question mark - I do believe he is on the good guy side (please don’t let him betray her *bites nails*).

The scenes in the Burren (underground caves) with Mallucé were gross and engrossing at the same time. I could not turn the pages fast enough trying to find out how Mac was going to escape from her seemingly inescapable situation.

Ahh and the angry kiss between Barrons and Mac *sigh*, I wanted more but here’s just a taste of what we got:

 I bit his lip. He tripped me and pushed me down to the stone floor of the cavern. I punched him. He straddled me.
 I ripped his shirt down the front, left it hanging in tatters from his shoulders.
 “I liked that shirt,” he snarled. He rose over me, a dark demon, glistening in the torchlight, dripping sweat and blood, his torso covered with tattoos that disappeared beneath his waistband.
 He grabbed the hem of my shirt, tore it straight up to my neck, and inhaled sharply.
 I punched him. If he punched me back, I was past feeling it. His mouth was on mine again, the hot silk of his tongue, the sharp, deliberate abrasion of his teeth, the exchange of breath and the small, desperate sounds of need.

What’s up next for Mac? I don’t think I can even imagine, but I’m pretty sure I can count on a whopper of a cliff-hanger.