There's a lot to not like about the Jill Kismet books: the mary-sue character, the relationships, the outfits. Very much a chick writer focused on the things that chick writers focus on.



But the ideas more than make up for it, the wonderful, believable world. The present, but with demons. Not Lovecraftian, but anyone who plays Cthulhu modern will appreciate it.



This book in the series particularly resonates for me. It's about suicide, as much as anything - the way that a suicide thinks. I don't know if the author has really been there, but sure as hell feels like she has.



And more than that. After reading this, I could not go into a bar without seeing each multicoloured bottle as being just different packages for a dose of ethyl alchohol, a purchasable quantity of oblivion. Champagne or beer, it's all the same stuff, really. Read the book and you'll understand. Sin and prettily-packaged temptation, just the same old lies underneath it all.



An easy read, btw. Teen level.



Permit me to recommend also "The Myth of Sanity", Martha Stout.