Dexter - The Fifth Book's Out!

Hello, Some of you may have noticed my mild (!) obsession with Jeff Lindsay's Dexter. Sophie from OrionBooks sent me an email a couple of weeks back, informing me of the fifth Dexter book that's being released this month: Dexter Is Delicious. Dexter - a dad? Slowly becoming more and more human? My curiosity's piqued.

With the book being released tomorrow, on Sophie's request, below's an extract of the first couple of pages. Hop over to Shots to win some Dexter memorabilia tomorrow (Thursday, 18th August), and join in the fun!

I really do wish I'd read the book before writing this post, for I would have liked to give some insight into the book itself, but you can be rest assured that in due course, that will happen. I've been stupidly busy with work, and reading Wolf Hall which is a chunkster of immense proportions!

That said, the only comment I have on this book is, I'm having a hard time imagining Dexter as a father, and considering the fourth book was slightly... soapy... what's this book going to be like? Return to the engrossing nail biting world of Dexter, or further down the soapiness... I am hoping for the former, for what that's worth... apologies for not reading the book first though!

Without much further ado...

This part of the hospital seems like foreign country to me. There is no sense of the battlefield here, no surgical teams in gore-stained scrubs trading witty remarks about missing body parts, no steely-eyed ad- ministrators with their clipboards, no herds of old drunks in wheelchairs, and above all, no flocks of wide-eyed sheep huddled together in fear at what might come out of the double steel doors. There is no stench of blood, antiseptic, and terror; the smells here are kinder, homier. Even the colors are different: softer, more pastel, without the drab, battleship utilitarianism of the walls in other parts of the building. There are, in fact, none of the sights and sounds and dreadful smells I have come to associate with hospitals, none at all. There is only the crowd of moon-eyed men standing at the big window, and to my infinite surprise, I am one of them.

We stand together, happily pressed up to the glass and cheerfully making space for any newcomer. White, black, brown; Latin, African-American, Asian- American, Creole – it doesn’t matter. We are all broth- ers. No one sneers or frowns; no one seems to care about getting an accidental nudge in the ribs now and again, and no one, wonder of all, seems to harbor any violent thoughts about any of the others. Not even me. Instead, we all cluster at the glass, looking at the miraculous commonplace in the next room.

Are these human beings? Can this really be the Miami I have always lived in? Or has some strange physics experiment in an underground supercollider sent us all to live in Bizarro World, where everyone is kind and tolerant and happy all the time?

Where is the joyfully homicidal crowd of yesteryear? Where are the well-armed, juiced-up, half-crazed, ready-to-kill friends of my youth? Has all this changed, vanished, washed away forever in the light from yon- der window?

What fantastic vision beyond the glass has taken a hallway filled with normal, wicked, face-breaking, neck-snapping humans and turned them into a clot of bland and drooling happy-wappys?

Unbelieving, I look again, and there it is. There it still is. Four neat rows of pink and brown, tiny wig- gling creatures, so small and prunish and useless – and yet it is they who have turned this crowd of healthy, kill-crazy humans into a half-melted splotch of dribbling helplessness. And beyond this mighty feat of magic, even more absurd and dramatic and unbelievable, one of those tiny pink lumps has taken our Dark Dabbler, Dexter the Decidedly Dreadful, and made him, too, into a thing of quiet and contemplative chin spittle. And there it lies, waving its toes at the strip lights, utterly unaware of the miracle it has performed – unaware, indeed, even of the very toes it wiggles, for it is the absolute Avatar of Unaware – and yet, look what it has done in all its unthink- ing, unknowing wigglehood. Look at it there, the small, wet, sour-smelling marvel that has changed everything.

Lily Anne.

Three small and very ordinary syllables. Sounds with no real meaning – and yet strung together and attached to the tiny lump of flesh that squirms there on its pedestal, it has performed the mightiest of mag- ical feats. It has turned Dexter Dead for Decades into something with a heart that beats and pumps true life, something that almost feels, that so very nearly resembles a human being.

Jeff Lindsay - Dexter By Design

...And yes, Dexter’s back on my blog, after what seems like absolute ages. I’ve had the fourth of the Dexter books on my shelf for over a year, and that in itself surprises me, as I lapped up the first three books in the series in about a week. Yes, I did enjoy them that much. The fourth book doesn’t disappoint, although, it starts getting a lot more.... what’s the word... melodramatic. You have your protagonist: blood spatter analyst by day, and serial killer by night, and now - now, he’s hitched, enjoying married life and being a father to two adorable children.

He’s back in Miami post a fantastic honeymoon in Paris, and he’s back at work. First day back, and Dexter and his “Dark Passenger” are in for a treat : dead corpses being artfully displayed, for one and all to see. One woman is turned into a fruit basket, and one man’s insides holds beer! No clues, no violence, no blood on the scene of crime. As Dexter and his sister, Deborah, try to get to the bottom of what’s going on, drama unfolds.

Deborah is still trying to deal with Dexter’s Dark Revelation, and she’s grumpy for the most part. Justifiable, to an extent, but on occasion, I did feel like giving her a slap, and saying get over it. After an altercation with her brother while on duty, she is stabbed and typically, her life is in grave danger. They rush her to the hospital, and as she battles for her life, Dexter’s dealing with his own battles: emotions. He’s unsure as to how to feel, and he’s accustomed to being this emotionless outlaw, so what’s the deal with the thoughts running through his head, and all the worse-case scenarios he is conjuring up?

Impulsively, i.e. very unlike him, Dexter seeks revenge on the person who was responsible for this heinous crime against his sister, and in the process, finds himself violating The Harry Code. Harry was Dexter’s foster father, who was aware of Dexter’s darker side, and encouraged him to channel his inner demons into doing good - killing the bad guys, getting rid of the scum on the planet.  His impulsiveness, though, leads him to making mistakes, and things get incredibly complicated... and to right a wrong, it almost looks like many more wrongs are going to be done.

This was interesting in the sense, it’s the first time we see Dexter acting on raw emotions, despite continuously insisting that he’s unemotional and detached. When he first realizes the implications of his sister’s attack, he goes down memory lane... and this book does focus on the past a lot - Dexter and Deborah growing up, Harry’s mentoring, and his initial battles.

The book is also quite humorous, and Dexter, despite everything, is highly intelligent. He alliterates his name all the time, with his current state of mind, if that makes sense? So, for example, while referring to himself, he says things like:   It did not belong in the prime time drama of Dexter’s Dim Days; Dexter the Drastically Deferred; Dark Dexter’s Dance etc. I love alliterations.

Other bits that I thought were tongue-in-cheek and worth re-quoting:

First things first has always been my motto, mostly because it makes absolutely no sense - after all, if first things were second or third, they wouldn't be first things, would they? Still, cliches exist to comfort the feeble minded, not to provide any actual meaning.

I don't know where the boyfriend is, really," I said. And it was true, considering tide, current, and the habits of marine scavengers.

However, all that said, I do think this is the weakest of Dexter’s books so far. It wasn’t as engrossing as the first two, and it became mildly more... soapy. When one is reading about a serial killer, they don’t quite want it to come with the baggage of a soap opera.

Jeff Lindsay - Dexter In The Dark

Dexter In The Dark is the third book in Lindsay's gripping series, and this one has probably been my favourite so far, which is saying a lot, since I've lapped these books up faster than a starving cat laps up a bowl of milk. Dexter (of the "Deadly Dimples") finds himself engaged to Rita, accidentally, and he has a wedding to plan. However, that's not what's on Dexter's mind. The inner Dark Passenger seems to have absconded, and Dexter is unable to find him, or determine why he's departed. If something's scared it off, it must be serious....

A series of heinous murders take place at the University, and Deborah, Dexter's sister, is the lead detective on the case. As usual, she relies on Dexter's unequivocal help, but due to the missing Passenger, Dexter is lost, lonely, and seems to be "in the dark", whereas earlier he found it easy enough to identify something unique about the crimes - a clue, a lead, just... something. The victims have their heads chopped off, and replaced with a bull's, and their bodies are baked crisp. Is it a cult crime? Something darker? Something more sinister?

For me, what made this book stand out, compared to its predecessors is Dexter, and him actually showing emotions: from snapping at Deborah, to acting as mentors to Rita's two kids, from showing his fears and vulnerabilities, to acting on impulse and pragmatism. And, the story itself goes back a few thousand years, to Solomon's time, and it brings to light a darker force, that has successfully scared off Dexter's inner companion, the 'thing' he fondly refers to as the Dark Passenger - but, what really is the Dark Passenger?

Rating: 4.5

Jeff Lindsay - Dearly Devoted Dexter

I'm going through a bit of a Dexter phase at the moment. I blame it on the fact that these are borrowed books, and I hate hanging on to borrowed books for too long. Plus, these books are seriously addictive, and keep you hooked on for dear life. Dexter is charming, charismatic, and committed - to killing the bad guys. He's also 'devoted' to his sister, Sergeant Deborah, and while he insists that he's not capable of feeling love, this book has a lot of "Dimpled Dexter" to the rescue references, for each time Deborah calls on him for help. He just can't say no! This book is slightly more morbid and disturbing than the first in the series: a torturer is on the loose, and he doesn't kill. Instead, he dismembers the body beyond recognition, and leaves the "living flesh" under a mirror so they can see themselves, limbless, eyeless, noseless, earless, lipless, genital-less... you get the idea, right? He gives them enough painkillers (barbiturates) to ensure they don't die of shock, and his surgical skills surpass excellence, as the wounds all seem to heal, and there's no blood involved. Dexter, in his dark humor, refers to the torturer at large as 'Dr. Dismember'.

Deborah seeks Dexter's help to prove a point to her newly-found Washington lover who has taken over the case, but Dexter just wants to be left alone. That's not the only thing on his mind, though. Sergeant Doakes has a sneaking suspicion about Dexter's "hobby", and he tails him continuously, to catch Dexter in the act. The Dark Passenger inside is contained by sheer determination and patience - but how long will it be 'til Dexter gives in to his greater power? And finally, Rita's getting really close, and has been thinking about marriage. But, Dexter, the emotionless reclusive bachelor, is not a family man...

There was nothing in the refrigerator remotely worth eating, unless you were a feral dog. Very disappointing: Dexter is a healthy boy with a high metabolism, and facing what was sure to be a difficult day on an empty stomach was not a happy thought. I know family comes first, but shouldn't that mean after breakfast?

Ah, well. Dauntless Dexter would make a sacrifice once again. Pure nobility of spirit, and I expect no thanks, but one does what one must.

I don't know, but with his dark sense of humor, and his supreme intelligence, it's actually hard not to get fond of Dexter, despite questioning some aspects of his moral code, which he strictly adheres to, even if it is at his own inconvenience. The more I read, the more addicted I am. One more book at hand...

Rating: 4

Jeff Lindsay - Darkly Dreaming Dexter

I'm guessing that most of you must have heard of Dexter (the TV show is really popular at the moment) - Blood spatter specialist by day, serial killer by night? But, he's a serial killer with a conscience - you see, he only kills the people who deserve to die. The pedophiles, the rapists, the evil nurse.

And, he does it artfully. Neatly. Covers his tracks, and makes sure he's never caught. Because that's what Harry taught him - Harry, his foster father, who is now dead, but his voice still echoes in Dexter's head, as a guiding light. Dexter has an inner Dark Passenger that takes over, and leaves him with an urge to kill. Harry, an ex-cop, did understand that, and inculcated in Dexter the moral code: Kill only those who deserve to die. He also taught Dexter the basics, to ensure he was never caught: fit in, dress well, have a normal job, have a girlfriend, and always cover your traces.

The book is written in first person, narrated by Dexter. In the first book of this series, another serial killer is in town, and his practices and methods seem to mirror Dexter's. All the blood is drained, the bodies are cut into numerous "neat" pieces, and disposed off in garbage disposal bags. Deborah, Dexter's foster sister, is an aspiring detective, and she seeks Dexter's help, for Dexter seems to have a "knack" to figure out these crimes. Dexter, on the other hand, needs to figure out if he wants to get "emotionally involved" with this serial killer, or help his sister, who's been having a hard time, courtesy another detective on the force.

What would I do? I need to decide now, before I get too helpful for Deborah. I could help her solve this, absolutely, no one better. Nobody else was even moving in the right direction. But did I want to help? Did I want this killer arrested? Or did I want to find him and stop him myself? Beyond this - oh, nagging little thought - did I even want him to stop?

As the killings increase, Dexter finds himself more involved, so much so that he thinks that the killer on the loose is speaking to him directly, or, that he's losing his mind. Which one is it?

By no means is this book perfect - the plot is not the strongest, and it's not a literary masterpiece. However, the book is a page-turner, like no other. Dexter's character is amazing, and sometimes, I had to avert my eyes from the page and shake my head, because I really couldn't believe what I was reading. It's funny, serious, and point-blank. Dexter doesn't really mince words.

By four-thirty in the morning, the priest was all cleaned up. I felt a lot better. I always did, after. Killing makes me feel good. It works the knots out of darling Dexter's dark schemata.

If you like page-turners, that are slightly dark, slightly disturbing, go ahead and pick this up. You will not be disappointed, for Dexter really is unforgettable, and, in his own way, he's charismatic as well!

Rating: 3.5