Talia Gryphon has achieved something that no other person in all of the urban fantasy genre has – a level of superhuman badness, of truly execrable putridity, of plotless porny stupidity that truly boggles the mind. She takes every single cliche imaginable and crams them into a Mary Sue story about her foul heroine’s swamplike netherbits.
Not only does she write a spectacularly terrible story, but she achieves levels of sheer horrendous ineptitude that surpass virtually everyone else in the genre, including the reigning queen of terrible vampire fiction, Laurell K Hamilton. Nothing about this book is even tolerable.
Truly, we are in the presence of a master.