Do I need to go into Charlie Huston’s brutal, compelling, post-noir world of fiction again? Probably not. This is the seventh book of his I’ve read, and the seventh that I’ve reviewed here. Regardless, I shouldn’t gloss over the most important point whenever I talk about his novels: Don’t read them if you’re squeamish. The graphic violence is one thing, but the cruelty is another. I think a lot of people would be put off by the terrible, awful things that happen to people for (sometimes) no good reason.
That being said, though, if you’ve read his previous works, and can tolerate the content, then by all means, read this one, too. This is the third book in the Joe Pitt series, the vampire-slash-hitman-slash-boyfriend-slash-sociopath who’s the titular, sympathetic character of the series. It doesn’t break any new ground, either in the vampire or post-noir genres, but it’s a good, compelling story nonetheless.
My biggest complaint? That stupid cover. I’m not sure which graphic artist thought that some pudgy dude with fangs painted on his lips and holding his gun sideways screamed “ultra noir,” but he needs to be fired. It looks like something you might find on the Cracked Website.