Last time on Harry Dresden: Harry Dresden encountered
Felurianhis fairy godmother, who is named Lea and is hot.
She walked closer, her body moving with a lithe, sensuous grace that might have been mesmerizing in other circumstances
I know she isn’t literally his Godmother (at least I hope not) but this is still really skeevy.
“He is mine, sir Knight, by blood right, by Law, and by his own broken word. He has made a compact with me. You have no power over that.”
Lea starts magically enticing Harry to follow her, and since she has him in a binding contract Michael can’t do anything to prevent it.
“Let the good Knight of the White God pass on his way.
Huh. So apparently the God of the Abrahamic religions is actually a recognised element of this universe, although presumably not the only one. Which kind of diminishes his impact, frankly- taken as part of a diverse pantheon he doesn’t really have that many defining traits, which is perhaps why he doesn’t get a lot of play in urban fantasy novels. If you want to stick Hades or Thor in there you’ve got a quick shorthand to base their personalities and powers on (or you can ~totally subvert~ those by going back to the original myths and not your mom’s Disney version), which doesn’t really apply in this case.
“Yes, my sweet man,” Lea whispered, golden eyes bright with glee. “Sweet, sweet, sweet. Now, lay aside your rod
Harr’s an expert at laying aside his rod, if you know what I mean.
wait that didn’t make any sense never mind
Luckily Harry manages to throw ghost powder all over her bosom (yes, this is specified) and runs for it when the cold iron make her skin blister.
she released me, tearing her silken gown away from her chest in a panic, revealing more gorgeous flesh being riven by the cold iron.
Seriously Jim, there are certain circumstances where attaching positive adjectives to a woman’s body is extremely creepy and weird. “While her skin is being burned off” is one of those circumstances.
“Treasonous, poisonous child! You are mine as your mother swore unto me! As you swore!”
What’s this, Harry’s mother did something bad? She’s an actual character instead of a platonic ideal to be set on top of the world’s highest pedestal? I never would have guessed.
Harry manages to hurl himself back through the rift before Lea can kill him, although his staff ends up getting destroyed once again in the process. Looks like all is well in the hospital, as the lights are back on and the babies are crying “lustily”. Michael for some reason gets all upset at Harry for lying to his Godmother to escape, because I guess he’s supposed to be sword-wielding badass Ned Flanders or something.
They’re just discussing how unlikely it was that Lea would happen to be nearby when a cop shows up!
“Don’t worry,” Michael said, quietly. “Just let me do the talking.”
Having experienced Harry’s winning personality in the two previous books, I’m going to say this is probably a good idea.
Michael rested his chin in his hands and sighed. “I can’t believe we’re in jail.”
Okay, yes, that’s funny. But it only really works if you assume Michael hasn’t spoken at all during the chapter skip.
“Disturbing the peace,” I snorted, pacing the confines of the holding cell. “Trespass.
“THESE ARE THE THINGS WE WERE ARRESTED FOR LIKE HALF AN HOUR AGO”
“Harry who the fuck are you talking to, it’s just me and you in here”
‘I’M WEARING PANTS”
“People like you and me stand up to things that these jokers”-I made an all-encompassing gesture-“would never even dream existed. We don’t get paid for it, we hardly even get thanked for it.”
Maybe if you, like, actually told people about the ghosts and stuff that would change.
Michael takes a philosophical view of the whole thing, arguing that since hey did the right thing they should be happy regardless. Harry thinks of all the babbies he saved and since we know from the previous book that babbies are the source of his power this cheers him up.
Eventually Michael’s wife (DRESDEN SCAN) bails them out, doing some classic comedy wife-berating at the same time. Her name is Charity and she’s awesome because she yells at Harry. Also she’s pregnant. I’m guessing there’s a roughly 90% chance the baby will be in danger at some point.
Michael put his arms around her, and with a little cry she hugged him back, burying her face against his chest and weeping without making any sound. Michael held her very carefully, as if he were afraid of breaking her, and stroked her hair.
Hang on a second back up to the part where she was threatening Harry I want to read more about that
Harry watches them go and is all OOOOOOH MARRIAGE WHAT IS THIS HUMAN EMOTION YOU CALL LOVE I DON’T KNOW ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS OOOOOOH and just then Susan shows up, right on cue.
never got tired of that. Susan had dark skin, tanned even darker from our previous weekend at the beach, and raven-black hair cut off neatly at her shoulders. She was slender, but curved enough to draw an admiring look from the officer behind the counter as she stood there in a flirty little skirt and half-top which left her midriff bare.
My Susan, you’re looking remarkably not stuffed into the fridge tonight. I’m sure this will continue to be the case throughout the entire series.
She turned to me and smiled, her chocolate-colored eyes worried but warm
See my previous points about PoC and food similes.
Susan asks what Michael’s deal is and Harry is evasive, not wanting to put his kids in danger.
“As far as I know he’s a carpenter.”
You know who was ALSO a carpenter?
Anyway apparently Michael’s sword is one of three, each of which supposedly has a nail from The Cross in it. Harry and Susan have a tiresome little moment where Harry wants to say “I love you” to comfort her but he can’t because, like, masculinity and shit. Okay supposedly it’s because ~every time he loves someone he loses them~ (relax Harry it’s not like you’ll have to ritually sacrifice her or something) but this guff about MEN DO NOT SAY I LOVE YOU comes up so often I’m convinced it’s just bullshit masculine posturing.
she melted to me, all warm, soft tension, smelling of cinnamon
Susan is also available in vanilla and Whole Nut flavours.
Speaking of flavours I found this shop in Dublin that sells weird-ass American sweets, and one of them was birthday cake flavoured M&Ms. BIRTHDAY CAKE. What is wrong with your society that you’d invent something like this, and then support it to the point that it becomes profitable? And let’s ignore the fact that a) they actually do taste like birthday cake b) are quite tasty and c) I’ve eaten three bags.
What’s wrong?” Susan asked.
“Mister,” I said. “He’s usually running right up to me when I come home. I let him out early this morning.”
Oh my God Jim Butcher fuck you so hard if something happened to the cat.
Susan is all “don’t worry he’s probably fine” and Harry gets too distracted by her sexiness, and then they get attacked by vampires.
(I looked up the wiki, Mister is fine)