WARNING: This post is not a standard review but a mere reflection after reading in which may sometime appear both objective and subjective.
The day I finished reading J.D. Robb’s “Naked in Death” is the day I hated her. I hated her so much I learned to like her beyond doubt. I hate her because she got me into this mess of becoming hooked on her own world of mystery. That she managed to maneuver my feelings of wanting and begging for more actions each chapter. That somehow out of the blue she gave me this dark evil sensations I became excited, thrilled, wobbly (because of not enough sleep), and then with a quick thump brought me back to reality and transformed me into this new emotional and “lovey-dovey” romantically upbeat person again. She knows exactly how and where to push the buttons inside my head. My heart races as I flip through the pages. (I must have heard that line a thousand times but I feel obliged to say it out loud. It makes me feel better. Really.).
When Eve, Lieutenant Dallas (the main character) gets all helpless and starts seeking for Roarke – the suspect of several murders (while fighting hard her feelings for him), was not at all a surprise for me as I knew the moment I heard his name the two of them together would click. The intertwined story between them and the fast-paced murder investigation involving several high ranking officials brought me to the edge. I felt Eve’s emotions everywhere as if we are one in spirit while I progress further deep into the core of the story.
So I hated her for that because she made me worship her detective story better than the rest of her romance novels. A strong likeness toward Robb’s ingenious work of art was building up inside me while keeping my calmness overrides the urge of the moment. The plot on each chapter is well developed I have to continue on reading almost without taking a break. The story was set in the future using futuristic technology equipments, advanced police investigative techniques, execution of the law in a whole new different society with aggressive politics and ambitions of tomorrow. Robb stirred the story with different suspects – makes you moan for justice and takes the pleasure of twisting your head, making you think and think hard it’s all over only to find out the juices are still coming in, more suspects – more suspicions. All alive and kicking once again.
There is one observation only I would probably agree: Robb’s (Roberts) picture at the back of the cover makes me think of Eve – that hair, the outfit, that playful gaze in her flashy coat. Did she create Eve’s character after her? I would never know that unless I get inside her head.
Some memorable lines I picked below:
“She woke at three, shuddering, clammy, fighting for the breath to scream. Whimpers sounded in her throat as she croaked out an order for lights. Dreams were always more frightening in the dark.”
“Her hand shook as she raised the glass again. “There was so much blood. She was so small, but there was so much blood. On the floor, on the wall, all over him. I could see it was still dripping off the knife. Her face was turned toward me. Her little face, with big blue eyes. Like a doll’s.”
“Those jittery eyes shot to Eve, and she knew, in that instant, what it was to be picked up bodily and thrown to the wolves.”
Summary:
Eve Dallas is a New York police lieutenant hunting for a ruthless killer. In more than ten years on the force, she’s seen it all – and knows that her survival depends on her instincts. And she’s going against every warning telling her not to get involved with Roarke, an Irish billionaire – and a suspect in Eve’s murder investigation. But passion and seduction have rules of their own, and it’s up to Eve to take a chance in the arms of a man she knows nothing about – except the addictive hunger of needing his touch.
