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annathepiperOkay, all you Buffy the Vampire Slayer fans on my Friends list, remember Cordelia? Now, think how she might have turned out if, instead of going down to L.A. and winding up joining the cast of Angel as a wannabe-actress-turned-mother-of-an-unholy-horror, she grew up to become an ad exec in Seattle. Keep her keen fashion sense and snarky bitchiness. And oh yes, turn her into a zombie.
Once you've done this, then you have Amanda Feral, heroine of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mdhenry's Happy Hour of the Damned, which is in a word HY-larious.
The zombie thing works on the grounds that in this universe, zombies come in two flavors: those who are "made", and who therefore retain higher brain functions and do not decompose as long as they regularly consume human flesh, and those who are "mistakes", the more traditionally Romero-esque shambling automatons with a hankering for tasty cerebellums. I can't attest to the accuracy of the snark directed at the club-hopping scene in Seattle, but it sure as hell reads well, and it should surprise no one the slightest bit familiar with this city that coffee--and our most famous purveyor of same--is a critical plot point. So are unrepentant depictions of several of the more disgusting bodily functions involved with being a zombie. 'Cause, well, you know, zombies. Don't say you weren't warned!
But do check this book out, and be sure to read the footnotes for additional little gems of snickerworthy bitchiness from our heroine and narrator. Four stars.
Once you've done this, then you have Amanda Feral, heroine of
mdhenry's Happy Hour of the Damned, which is in a word HY-larious.The zombie thing works on the grounds that in this universe, zombies come in two flavors: those who are "made", and who therefore retain higher brain functions and do not decompose as long as they regularly consume human flesh, and those who are "mistakes", the more traditionally Romero-esque shambling automatons with a hankering for tasty cerebellums. I can't attest to the accuracy of the snark directed at the club-hopping scene in Seattle, but it sure as hell reads well, and it should surprise no one the slightest bit familiar with this city that coffee--and our most famous purveyor of same--is a critical plot point. So are unrepentant depictions of several of the more disgusting bodily functions involved with being a zombie. 'Cause, well, you know, zombies. Don't say you weren't warned!
But do check this book out, and be sure to read the footnotes for additional little gems of snickerworthy bitchiness from our heroine and narrator. Four stars.
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Date: 2008-03-09 06:21 pm (UTC)