Comfort Reading

I haven't written anything this week because if I had started to comment on the election, it would have become more than a rant, and I feared for Jeremy's keyboard.
Instead, in order to deal with my disenchantment, I am falling back on some comfort reading. This means that I have just stopped reading the 2 books I had started in order to re-read a favorite series. It's not that I don't like what I'm reading, they're just not holding me right now. Luna by Julie Anne Peters was turing out to be rather interesting. It's the story of a junior high school girl whose older brother is on his way to becoming a transexual, and she's the only one who knows. I had also started The Eyre Affair, which was shaping up to beone of those books where all you can think is 'What the heck was going on in that author's head'. I like those kind of books/authors. Nina Kiriki Hoffman is one of these authors. She's a hoot.
As it turns out, I'm reading my favorite comfort read. Which given what it is, could be considered a little disturbing. It's The Black Jewels Trilogy by Anne Bishop. Why is this series the series I curl up with like a safety blanket when I feel bad? Is it because it's really original fantasy with a neat system of magic. Is it because I think the characters are fantastic? Maybe, sort of. Is it because the bad people not only get defeated but they get their comeuppance in a rip them apart and eat them fashion? Yeah, yeah it is.

Titian cleaned her knife with a scrap from the black coat while the other Harpies hacked up the meat and tossed the pieces to the pack of Hounds waiting in a half circle around the body.
The body twitched and still feebly stuggled, but the bastard could no longer scream for help and the muted sounds he made filled her with satisfaction. A demon couldn't feel pain the way the living did, but pain was a cumulative thing, and he hadn't been dead long enough for his nerves to forget the sensation.
...
Titian picked up her ax. The Harpies moved aside for their Queen.
The limbs were gone. The torso was empty. The eyes still held a glimmer of intelligence, a glimmer of Self. Not much, but enough.
With three precise strokes, Titian split Greer's skull. Using the blade, she opened one of the splits until it was wide enough for her fingers. Then she tore the bone away.
She looked into Greer's eyes. Still enough there.
Whistling for the pack leader, she walked away, smiling, while the Hound began feasting on the brain.

For those who have the courage and stomach to read this series, know that it is amazing.

Daemon Sadi is my hero.

I'm sorry if anyone has been disturbed by this.