Dear Anita Blake, 
 How vain is it that after x amount of adventures you still insist that EVERYONE and their mother is either jealous of you or wants to do you? If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck then honey it's a duck. Book after book you defend to everyone that you aren't a whore, but in each book you sleep with a virtual stranger for "food". And what's with every man you do boink falling madly in love with you? Do you have magic fairy dust sprinkled in your whoo haa that keeps you "so wet and so tight" after dozens of men all the size of a California redwood running through your panties? If you do, please share your supplier with the rest of us. 
 Did you know that you really don't have to describe everything in such excruciating detail? If we took the descriptions out you'd be left with a short story. Let us readers use our imagination for some things, especially if you've already painfully described that item at least three times in previous chapters. 
 ps - Are you a full-time Federal Marshal now or is that the best way to turn EVERY CASE YOU WORK to be a plot to kill you, steal your body, or trick you into saving the world with a blowjob? 
 Sincerely, 
 Me