This story is basically a set of conversations that show how
the whole Santa mythos is a front for a narcissistic murdering vampire. It is borderline Bizarro genre which is going
to limit the audience for it dramatically.
It is also packaged in a way that I think many readers will misunderstand,
leaving them confronted with something much more offensive and less plot-driven
than they were expecting—and while clever, completely without charm.
For strength of concept, and assuming the right audience, I
am giving the story a good rating. But I
think it will attract many more reviews that are negative and disgusted, and
not without reason. A few blood spots on
a “rom com”-esque cover is not enough to warn people about a fowl-mouthed
shallow alcoholic protagonist and a story in which almost nothing happens but
when it does it involves poop, private parts and child murder.
Enter at your own risk.
Review copy courtesy of Netgalley, 4/5