If you read this book you only have yourself to blame.

I haven’t bothered to review any of the Vampire Diaries book in the series yet because it’s a waste of time. They’re all objectively poorly written and mildly entertaining at best. Even the ones from the 90s, publication dates aside, are fan fiction dribble. Featuring amateur plot lines and lack lustre character development with a sexist and narrow world view cherry on top.

However, it seems that I enjoy wasting my own time. I’m still reading through the books because I have a penchant for vampire fantasy fiction, insist on finishing things, and like pain apparently. I decided to write a review because I need to off-load some of my feelings so they can stop taking up space in my head.

The first quarter of the book is a plug for Jaguar cars. I think L. J. Smith was trying to manifest this exact car in her life. Writing it into existence in her fictional universe is how she thought it was going to be actualized in her own life. It was so blatant that at one point when they’re at a user car dealership Matt goes into car salesman mode and does a complete rundown of the car’s specs.

Pedantic and detailed doesn’t even cover the author’s laboured writing style. I definitely blacked out multiple times mid expositional diatribe. Only to be jolted awake when another weird, out of place, or nonsensical piece of information surfaced.

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