Christopher Buehlman

Joey Peacock, a vampire in 1978 New York City, has his routine of sleeping all day and hunting, womanizing and attending punk rock shows by night interrupted by child-like vampires of a different breed, who pose a threat to Joey and all of those like him. By the author of Those Across the River. Includes teaser. Reading group guide online. 40,000 first printing.

The Lesser Dead

ghost girl in satin

This book is perfect for you if you like origin stories, cruel vampires and stories that focus on misfits. 
It's set in 1978 and you can tell thanks to all the little nods to pop culture the author included in his writing, such as the appearance of Freddie Mercury at some point in the story (though he doesn't have a line). 
I absolutely loved it! The main character is a 14 yo vampire with a sharp sense of humor - at least as sharp as his fangs. If you like him and you enjoy character-driven books, then you'll love this one. 
I enjoyed the mystery at the center of the story and the fact that, for once, vampires were depicted as truly frightening creatures. The final twist made me scream, and I can't wait to read more Christopher Buehlman's books!

Sarah Escorsa

Actual rating: 4.5 stars.

Sparkly Sexey Vampire Wannabes (S²VW™) beware, for Christopher Buehlman’s Deliciously Filthy Creepy Bloodsuckers (DFCB™) are out to get you!



Oh yes, and they have smooth moves, too. Which never hurts, if you ask me. 

So if this Slightly Very Good Book (SVGB™) ain't no Twilight of Doom and Oblivion Duplicate (ToDaOD™)—and thank fish for that—what is it like, you ask? Well I guess you could say it's original as shrimp. Yes, you could. And creepy as squid. And that it features a whole bunch of positively charming hemoglobin aficionados. I guess you could also say that Buehlman is a Gloriously Ruthless Destroyer of Preposterous Vampiric Clichés (GRDoPVC™). And that his in-your-face-writing is worthy of my #1 boyfriend Jimmy Stark. And that hahahahaha. And that, bloody shrimping hell of the stinking fish, ze twist was so scrumptiously twisted that even my good pal Nosfie kinda sorta recoiled when he read the book. I kid you not. 



Poor baby. See what you've done, Mr Buehlman? Do you realize how many Noddy stories I'll have to read dear Nosfie to repair the damage? This is most outrageous. Yes, most outrageous indeed.

➽ Nefarious Last Words (NLW™): I don't like vamps. I hate the silly 70s. See my rating for this book? Ha. QED and stuff.

P.S. Listen to Joey. Don’t. read. The. coda. Thou hast been warned and stuff.
P.P.S. ♫ You Should Be Dancing ♫ right now. Just so you know.



[Pre-review nonsense]

Mr Buehlman, you make Nosferatu proud. And put him in a most gleefully playful mood. Quite the achievement, that.



Nosfie dear, such a delightfully mischievous chum you are.

Casie Blevins

I tip my hat to Mr Buehlman. Masterful writing. Funny, yanking a laugh out of me on dozens of occasions. A little bit racist? Yes, but a period piece taking place in 1978. It is well believable that someone who matured in the thirties would feel this way in New York in 1978 towards well, everyone. He spares no one. 

You've never read a vampire novel like this before. 

There are some scenes that seem a tad disjointed, but they aren't ultimately. They show themselves to fit masterfully into the larger narrative just at the right time. Buehlman does this deftly, slides in all sorts of bits that you may notice or not, that work themselves out to brilliance in the end. 

If this kind of layered mastery is what I can expect from his novels, I will be reading his entire catalog as soon as possible.

Gabriella Lanouette

Sade A

New York City in 1978 is a dirty, dangerous place to live. And die. Joey Peacock has spent the last 40 years as an adolescent vampire, perfecting his routine: feeding by night and sleeping by day with others of his kind in the macabre labyrinth under the city's sidewalks. Until one night he sees them hunting on his beloved subway. Vampires, like him. or not like him. Whatever they are, whatever their appearance means, the undead in the tunnels of Manhattan are not as safe as they once were. And neither are the rest of us.

The Lesser Dead

Reviews