Remember when this stuff was funny?

Santa Claus Vampyre Slayer

Well, it’s not funny anymore. Not even remotely. I don’t read “gimmick” books. I don’t have unlimited reading time. I would rather read something with substance (note that having “substance” does not necessarily mean “dour” — see anything by Christopher Moore for examples).

Incidentally, here’s the blurb, courtesy of the book’s Amazon page:

The gentle snowfall settling over the sleepy coastal town of South Rich promises the beginning of another Christmas Eve. Holiday lights twinkle in the darkness, stockings are hung by the chimney with care, and, in bedrooms across town, vampires feast on the blood of the innocent. Wait, what? It’s true. For Christmas this year, South Rich is getting an infestation of the bloodthirsty undead, lead by ancient vampire, Victor Kroll. Only one hero can drive out the darkness. Only one brave soul can save South Rich’s children from becoming a vampiric Yuletide feast. He’s fat, he’s jolly, he’s got a belly like a bowlful of jelly, and Victor Kroll’s name is at the top of his Naughty List. Join Santa, his trusty elf, Elmont, and Snowman as they join forces with Christmas-loving Howard Buttley to battle the forces of darkness and save South Rich from a menace Santa thought he’d eliminated from the world centuries ago. You’d better watch out, Kroll. You’d better not cry. You’d better not pout and I’m telling you why. Santa Claus is coming to town, and he’s got a sharpened candy cane stake gift-wrapped just for you.

I bet you could sum this up much the same way Publisher’s Weekly did for Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters:

This latest effort to combine Jane Austen mania and pop culture horror takes the same format as Pride and Prejudice and Zombies minus the innovation of being the first to do so. Using the familiar plot structure of Austen’s first novel, and a few of the most famous lines, the mannered life of early nineteenth century gentry is stripped of witty dialogue and replaced with monsters, vulgarity, and violence. When Mr. Dashwood is eaten by a hammerhead shark his daughters Marianne and Elinor, along with their sister and mother, are sent to Pestilent Island where they meet Sir John Middleton, owner of the islands, and squid-faced Colonel Brandon. Marianne is rescued from a giant octopus by Mr. Willoughby, causing her to fall in love with him. Meanwhile, Elinor falls in love with Edward Ferrars who is engaged to the evil Lucy Steele. Readers who found humor in the contrast between Austen’s familiar novel and the addition of zombies will probably welcome this unevenly written effort.

Bottom line is I’m sure Bob Fasone can do better. Who knows. Maybe some day I’ll read one of his works. It just won’t be this one.

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