Friday, November 28, 2008

Staked - J. F. Lewis

Humorous horror, I suppose you'd call this. Right from the start: "I considered buying a pizza parlor once, but I decided I would go crazy from the smell. I love pizza. If I smell pizza, I have to stop and take a good whiff; I have to look at it, see what kind it is, and watch a lucky bastard take a few bites. Chicago pizza, Italian pizza, brick-oven pizza, anchovies, pepperoni, olives, mushrooms, peppers, kiwi, it doesn't matter to me, so long as it's pizza. I think I miss pizza more than I miss the sun.
I smelled pizza the instant Lillian smuggled my lightly toasted, stinking, quilt-covered ass in through the back entrance of the Demon Heart. The tangy Sicilian aroma made my mouth water, by which I mean blood filled my mouth, a poor imitation of saliva. It's Mother Nature's way of reminding me that I'm a walking corpse that hasn't fallen down yet. Thanks, Mom. Shower forgotten, I followed the smell of the pizza down the hall to the girls' dressing room behind the stage."

Eric's a vampire, and a tough one, apparently they come in levels, Drones, Soldiers, Masters and Vlads. Yep, spot the one out of place and guess which he is.

So, he isn't your angsty whiny vampire by any stretch of the imagination. This eighty year old guy doesn't look it, of course, is immortal, invulnerable and has super powers. He wears t-shirts and jeans every day, and runs a strip club. So while he isn't that thrilled with being a vampire he finds that he can cope. If something needs killing, male, female, alive, dead, then, he's a vampire.

His problems here involve a girlfriend that wants to be a vampire, her sister that doesn't, a dead werewolf that might lead to your good old vampire-werewolf battle, a partner that may not be on the up and up, a mysterious feline assistant and many vampire women to deal with. Then there's the good old fancy handled off fashioned magic six-shooter going around.

There are quite a few parts that made me laugh, too, in amidst the ripping off of body parts and tearing apart of flesh, shagging, and blood drinking.

A couple of examples:

"Bat radar gives me headaches, so I rely mostly on my bat vision."

"Dawn was beautiful. The fiery tendrils of morning crimson bathed me in their warm glow. The sun, with typical brilliance, cast its loving gaze in my direction. Had I been alive, I would have turned to face it with joy, or more likely put on my shades to prevent my usual hangover from getting worse. Either way, I wouldn't have fallen out of the sky and into the woods on account of it."

I actually found out about this thanks to a forum, and someone mentioning that his church group had given him the boot. If a bunch of inbred illiterate idiot Alabama hillbillies disliked it that much, then I figured must be something good about it. There certainly is!


4 out of 5

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