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Stoker Award winning author P.D. Cacek turns vampire fiction insideout in this wryly witty romp through the seamy underbelly of LA. Meet Allison Garret,
thirtysomething, unlucky in love and life, waking up after a three day binge: alone again.
Only now, she's a vampire without a clue about how to survive. It will take more than a
night full of prayers to help her and her new sidekick, a Bible-thumping street corner
preacher, when a catty coven of vengeful vamps target the both of them for destruction.
"Allison silently damned Seth's already damned soul to the lowest pit of Hell for sucking her dry and not leaving her with so much as a training manual. Producing fangs was no effort--she managed that while Buck was ripping her skirt off up against the back fender of his station wagon (they couldn't use the back seat because it was filled with kid's toys); and she'd even lulled him into near-orgasmic euphoria by running the tip of her icy tongue up and down the throbbing veins in his neck, just like Seth had done to her. But then she lunged. What would Christopher Lee do at a time like this? ...
"Buck screamed as he wadded up and shoved his dripping hand into her face. 'Look at that!' Allison did. And her mouth watered... 'How am I going to explain this to my wife? I could kill you!'
"'Too late,' Allison whispered."
One moment 37-year-old Allison is crying in her tequila in a country-western joint; the next, she's a vampire. After coming to her senses about how to survive as the newbie undead, she meets up with a Bible-thumping street preacher with a wild hair up his tail, vampire shapeshifters who do erotic animal acts in a sleazy pit of a bar, the "furvert" clientele who drool over them, an aging Jewish-mother type named Miriam ("is this a vampire we got here or a whole ferstinkena zoo?"), and various other bizarre inhabitants of southern California nightlife.
This is a funny romp of a vampire novel in the tradition of Nancy Collins's Sonja Blue stories and Christopher Moore's Bloodsucking Fiends. As horror critic Ed Bryant writes, Night Prayers "is a gorgeous confection, blood pudding whipped to a tasty scarlet froth.... The tone is smart-ass to the extreme." --Fiona Webster