Several months ago, my eye was caught by an ad for the sequel to this vampire P.I. novel, X-rated Bloodsuckers. I thought it looked like trashy fun and I liked the implicit conceit of juxtaposing literal consumption of humans with the legendarily exploitive adult entertainment industry. When I looked up Acevedo’s name in the library database, I realized it was the second in a series. The description of The Nymphos of Rocky Flats made it sound like a more action-oriented Christopher Moore book, so I thought I’d start with the first novel. Now I’ll never read X-rated Bloodsuckers.
The Nymphos of Rocky Flats is easily the worst book I’ve read in years. The characters are one-dimensional at-best. The plot is too ludicrous to work any way but played-for-laughs — in Christopher Moore’s hands the same plot skeleton could have made for much hilarity — but Acevedo strives for a hard-boiled tone. Unfortunately, his first-person narrator Felix Gomez is both sexist enough for the description of every female character to include breast size, and dull enough to use adjectives like “large” and “small” for said descriptions; Acevedo might be aiming for vampire Chandler, but he doesn’t even achieve vampire Parker. And for a book with “nymphos” in the title? Really not providing much of what we used to call “socially redeeming value.”
Needs More Demons?
I need the hours I spent on this book back.