Head eating aliens

I started a new book last night and got half through it before I had to sleep. And had weird, crazy, alien abduction dreams as a result of it. Why couldn't my alien experiences been more like Kyra's? But no, I get the aliens that want to eat my head off. And my arms, and my legs, before having what's left for a midnight snack. (Kyra's story, The EmpressesNew Clothes, is quite good if you like alien abduction erotic romances where the hero's intrest lies in loving you, not making a meal out of you - and I do - can't waiit to finish it.)

Also read the new Laurell K. Hamilton Anita Blake book this week, Danse Macabre. I had a great time through the first two thirds, then the last part of the book just lost me. The book's premise is that a vampire ballet, the Danse Macabre, is coming to town, and Anita has to attend in her role as the human servant of the vampire Master of the City. But there's so much else, so much internal conflict / angst / struggle to deal with who Anita has become going on that the actual plot is stuffed into the last 150 pages of a 500 page book. It felt rushed. Left me with a wierd feeling of "why'd you have to do it like that?" I recommend it - LKH is still a fabulous writer - but it's not one of her best.

Cleaned out the car yesterday - tomorrow it's up bright and early for an oil change, the last thing I have to get done before my trip this week. And burned a few cd's for the car (Phantom of the Opera, the two cd set, should keep Samantha happy into Alabama).

Today it's family day - and football. Go Bobcats! Pics of the team to come later.