Ok, let’s be frank here. The cover is awesome. And what makes it even more awesome is the fact that this book is actually cool. (Need I remind you of other awesome covers that hold between them a concoction of clichés, crazy-ass-bitch characters with mind-numbing thoughts and a “story” to kill every last cell a brain could hold on to through tears? Didn’t think so.)
Yes, it might not be super terrifyingly scary and make blood drip down my Kindle; yes, it might not tell a story of a uber-romance, or be the funniest thing out there or reveal the secrets of the universe, but Anna Dressed in Blood actually me gusta.
And, believe me when I say this (because it happens very, very rarely), it’s one of those books that make me want to read its sequel because the story I read was interesting, and not only because I have this masochistic issue with series.