And the concept of decaffeinated vampires suddenly takes on a whole new meaning. Bagged blood? Oh please, don't be ridiculous, it's totally passé, we take iron supplements now. The very fine specimen of the vampiric clique we have here is beyond such mundane activities. She They obviously haven't read this book. To think Shelly some of my dear fangbanger friends dare criticize my uber cool Chicagoland Vampires because they drink bagged blood. And such an awesome vampire they meet, too. Will they be able to solve their car problems? *shudders* Will they be able to fix the car? *shakes in fear* Will they get a good deal for the new car? *breaks down and cries* This is just too much!!! This book is turning me into a nervous wreck. Let me tell you, my Little Barnacles, Stephen King has absolutely nothing on Rob Thurman here. Dreadfully stressful stuff, if you ask me. Talk about creating angst-filled moments here. Anyway, as I was saying, a few things did actually happen in those memorably glorious 39%: And we all know I'm all about being fair right? Right. The thing is, nothing happened in said 39%. Cross my heart, hope to die excruciatingly and all that crap. So what is this book about you ask? No bloody idea. Ha! Didn't expect that, did you now? Point made. Of all the delightfully dysfunctional Freaks that buddy read this book with me, at least three DNFed is as well. Well I am sorry to disappoint you but this is not yet another case of 'Sarah has less patience than a rabid rabbit in heat.' No it's not. Oh, I know exactly what you're thinking here: 'Oh, look! A new addition to Sarah's DNF graveyard! Surprise, surprise!' Because there's only so much boredom I can take.

Nightlife by Rob Thurman