Scary. Wild. Funny. Definitely over-the-top in the best way! That’s the only way to describe Mario Acevedo’s work. Mario writes the Felix Gomez vampire-detective series for Eos HarperCollins: The Nymphos of Rocky Flats, X-Rated Blood Suckers, and his latest novel The Undead Kama Sutra. I knew he’d be perfect to get us ready for the Halloween season here at the Handbasket! Stay tuned this March for his next novel Jailbait Zombie.
This is Mario’s busy season, so he wants to make sure that the goodies he’s brought to the Handbasket–a signed Advance Reader’s Copy of one of his novels and a Devil Duck!–get snapped up this week. Anyone who comments on his post between now and end-of-day Saturday is eligible!
It’s October and since I write vampire stories, I get swamped with requests for articles. It would be easy enough except for one huge reason. My vampire doesn’t cooperate. He hates Halloween.
You would think that being surrounded by fans in vampire costumes is an ego boost. Not true. To my vampire, seeing all those weirdos in cheesy capes and fake fangs would be like Paul Robeson attending an Amos and Andy show with the actors in black face. It’s not camp, it’s insulting.
What about Santa Claus at Christmas? I asked my vampire. There are thousands of Santa imposters and I’ve yet to hear one peep of protest from the North Pole.
Whole different holiday, my vampire answered. Santa doesn’t mind ‘cause he needs the help. It’s his busiest season what with overtime for the elves, inventory snafus, stuff getting held up in Customs, and he’s still supposed to have kids sit on his lap at the mall? If it was me, of course I’d love a regiment of helpers.
But Halloween ain’t that at all. Sure, these costumed freaks make it easier for me to blend in but I get around anyway. What I resent is going out and being mistaken for a pretend bloodsucker. I didn’t lose my soul for nothing.
What’s with the Goth folks? I’d kill to get my tan back and these pasty-faced wanna-be’s actually cultivate a corpse in a tomb complexion.
And then there’s the fake “blood” punch. Plus the “blood” enchiladas. And the “type-A” marinara sauce. Don’t bring up “Bloody” Mary’s. Since when did we vampires stop drinking real booze? What’s the point of being immortal if you can’t get tight now and again?
One thing that really sticks in my craw are zombies. Really, try getting a zombie out of your craw. They’re all gummy and nasty-tasting. Unfortunately, zombies are all the rage now. Why, I don’t know. They smell like Dumpsters and leave pus on the furniture. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been to a cocktail party and guests start to haggle over the difference between zombies and vampires. Sure, we’re both undead but the similarities end there. We vampires are cool. We’re good company. We can control our appetites. I don’t know how many dinners I’ve seen ruined by zombies lunging over the table and snacking on the host’s brains. I mean right there. At the table. How rude.
Plus, we vampires are sexy. Everyone knows that. (Except for one particular barrista who won’t return my calls or texts.)
Have an awesome October.
Thanks for coming by, Mario!
Stop by tomorrow to meet poet and uber-blogger Michelle Brooks!
(If you comment on Mario’s blog, you’ll also be eligible for the end-of-month prizes: $100 Godiva and Harry&David giftbaskets and more books!)