Jetlagged and drained, I saw this book while waiting for my connecting flight in Dublin Airport earlier this week. The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner: An Eclipse Novella by Stephanie Meyer. I unashamedly enjoyed the Twilight Saga. My flatmate and I went halfers on the four books and tore through them in a way we haven't since discovering Mallory Towers as youngsters. But this is getting too much. What was once a triumph for Meyer (the content is not to everyone's taste, granted, but sales of 17million copies of the four-part saga deserves applause) appears to have become a cash cow. I don't know about everyone else, but my Twilight fatigue has reached an all-time high.
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