The Vampire of Venice Beach
I’m Kim Alexander and this is Fiction Nation. The book is The Vampire of Venice Beach by Jennifer Colt.
My affection for books about our bloodsucking friends is ‘well documented’ ‘to the point of’ ‘my having to’ ‘promise not’ to write about them for a while, so you’ll be glad to know there are no actual vampires in this book. It’s just the title, and that’s not even why I read it. I was actually bribed by Jennifer who sent me a baseball cap with the book’s logo on it, and I am apparently very easily bought. At any rate, once I picked it up the book, not the hat I learned about yet another subculture, this time the social vampires. They’re just a like-minded bunch of taxpayers who wear black and pretend to drink blood. And don’t call them Goths unless you want to get them very annoyed, although seriously? What are they gonna do, mope me to death? Now, I think there’s such a thing as going too far. I mean, I love my cats but I don’t shred the couch and yak up hairballs. But I guess everybody’s gotta have a hobby and it’s safer than cave diving.
The Vampire of Venice Beach follows the exploits of twin redheaded private detectives Terry and Kerry Macafee, first introduced two books ago, who are hired to find out who killed the former high school princess turned queen of the local undead, which in this case doesn’t involve a wooden stake. The characters and situations are heavy on the wacky and over the top, and the double twist ending, while I found it came a little out of left field, fit the general tone of campy humor tinged with genuine menace.