Yay Dresden! Though honestly, the "let Harry think he might possibly be catching a tiny break and then yank the rug out of him while the universe points and laughs" plot formula is perhaps growing just a tiny bit old. Still, now I've reached the end of what's available in paperback, so I'll be reading the books farther apart from now on, and the little things like this are likely to bother me less. So that's a bonus of sorts, I suppose.
Anyway, the book was no less compelling or enjoyable than the previous installments have been, which is to the good; it was also no less irritating in an almost subliminal way. I always finish one of these books feeling sort of like I just ate an entire bag of Fritos or something - I enjoyed it at the time but feel kind of guilty and maybe a little queasy afterward. And yet I don't stop doing it, so it can't bug me that much.
