I like vampires. I like journals. I like letters. I like utter mayhem and violence in books. However… somehow I didn’t like all of those things combined in this book.
I wanted to enjoy Dracula, and at first it was good, it was fresh to a girl who has read things like Twilight and the vampires are a little dorky and sparkly.
Dracula is an amazing character, he’s creepy as all hell, typical vampire we’ve heard about from being a kid, and most of all he unapologetically drinks peoples blood.
Add in characters being killed and husbands having to cut off their wives heads and you would think you have an amazing book, right?
…Somebody might chop my head off for saying this, but I’m not a fan of having to read over 500 pages of peoples journals and letters to each other about having to travel to get to where Dracula is and kill him. I think the book would’ve been far more affective from a narrative view, even switching back and forth between characters would’ve made me like it more. But having to go from their piddly thoughts on pages of journals made it pretty unbearable for me at the end of it.
But at least it had a happy ending…for most.