Date: Monday, February 14, 2000 10:17 AM

From: "Judi Hardin" <JL-Hardin@wiu.edu>

Both Meghan and LaT said "What's wrong with writing descriptions?" So here's one, fwiw. I've just reread the entire Anita Blake series, hence the metaphor.

Monster Slayer

February 2000 J Hardin

He's just shy of six feet tall, but he seems taller. Bigger. Maybe it's the uniform, the way the seams accent the width of his shoulders and the Sam Browne shows off his narrow waist. And the boots and Stetson, they probably add 4 or 5 inches.

Or maybe it's just him. That--aura around him. That--Hero-ness. You just know when you look at him that you can trust him. Rely on him. That he'll make everything All Right. This is a guy who can slay monsters.

He even has a Hero build. You know, broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. Not exaggerated, not that 2%-body-fat, 8-hours-a-day-at-the-gym, nothing-under-this-skin-but-muscle-and-veins look. Not a caricature. Just--smooth, rounded muscle like you'd see on a decathlete. Strong, fast, agile; fit for the chase and the capture. And purely beautiful.

Despite the Hero aura, the first thing you think when you see him is that he's beautiful. Perfect, even. Of course he's not, but that's what you think at first, because it's so overwhelming. The first impact of dark hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. Then you start seeing the parts--good bones, fine, just this side of delicate, but well-defined. A high forehead that would have made the Romantics swoon. Eyes the color of wood-smoke, under black lashes. The faint cleft in the obstinate chin, and the unexpected little dimple to the left side of his mouth when he smiles. Lips with a lot of color, making the white teeth look even whiter.

You have to wait for the impact to wear off to notice that those white teeth aren't perfectly straight. The wide mouth is a bit crooked. Those blue eyes aren't quite as big as you first thought. The jaw is determined and that stubborn chin is--stubborn. And none of it makes a damn bit of difference. He's still knock-you-on-your-butt gorgeous.

There's this line, this lovely line, from the back of his neck, where the dark hair curls just a bit on the left when he goes too long between haircuts, down the supple balanced s-curve of his spine, through the round, muscled buttocks and down the long, sturdy thighs. It's enough to take your breath, no matter what sex you are. Watching the muscles play under that satiny ivory skin--well, it makes you want to see more.

That skin. It's beautiful. Despite the scars, or maybe because of them. Try to slay a monster and they get a little pissed off. That's understandable. He's got a scattering of small scars along the shoulder and biceps of his right arm. One on his back, round, like maybe a bullet made it, too near his spine for comfort. There's a long, wicked-looking scar and a couple more round ones on his right thigh. Then there's that funny scar near his collarbone. That one's hard to figure out, but it's a doozy.

There are more scars on his left wrist, and one on the back of his right hand. That one healed up well; you can only see it when the light hits his skin at a certain angle. He's got good hands--square palms, blunt, clever fingers, almost straight thumbs. His hands are like the rest of him. Gentle. Strong. Capable. Those hands will never let you fall. Never hurt you. Well, not unless you're one of the monsters.

You gotta look into his eyes to see what it costs him. Not that he's gonna let you see it, not if he can help it. But just keep looking into those eyes. Look in past the polite Mountie smile. There's somebody intelligent home. Alert and watching, not at all the trusting naif he wants you to see. Taking it all in, filing it. Feeling it. Don't think he doesn't feel. Keep looking into those eyes, and you'll start seeing it. Loneliness as big as the Northwest Territories. Betrayal. Bone-deep pain. Abandonment. Man and boy, wary, hurt, and needy. And determination, to do right, to use that intelligence and strength and skill for good.

And sometimes, if you're very lucky, you'll see a twinkle, a gleam of laughter that lights him up from inside.