Run away from this book. Seriously, don't walk, run. 
 I'm still trying to recover from reading it and honestly, the only reason why I finished was because I felt obligated to finish due to the completely idiotic reason why I picked it up in the first place: I read the back blurb, saw the name Dmitri, and due to my fascination with all things Russian, decided this is probably going to be awesome. 
 I can't even list all the things wrong with this book because I'm pretty sure that if I got started, I'll end up typing a five...or maybe ten...page rant. To be really clear, I already had really low expectations for this book and knew it was supposed to be a trashy werewolf detective book, so it wasn't like I was expecting much literary merit. I did think I would get something readable. 
 It's September, I think this book qualifies as the Worst Book of the Year for me. There's still 3 months left for something to beat it but dear gods, if there is something worse, it might actually destroy my mind.