Introduction

John Doe is an aspiring author. He's 317 years old (passing as 17) and an expert in almost everything. Unfortunately, his memoir, The Last Vampire, has been rejected by nearly every agent in the business. Nobody wants to read about vampires anymore, he's told. The feelings of rejection that might trigger in an ordinary vampire are nothing compared to John's reaction due to his daily struggles with OCD and anxiety. John lives with vampirovirus but finds it difficult to live with the knowledge he's the last of his kind.

When John enrolls in a criminology course, he's partnered up with Angela Ruiz. With no more training than what she's seen on CSI, Angela convinces John they have an obligation to bring down the Six o'Clock Slasher, a serial killer who's confounded the police for two years. As they fumble through their investigation, John begins to suspect the killer might be a vampire. Will John condemn himself to eternal life as the last of his kind, or will he allow a ruthless killer to go free?

Editorial Review

No Editorial Review Currently Available

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

“Mr. Doe. I know you’re in there!” Mrs. Dilliberato jangles her key ring, trying to scare me into opening the door. 

Her walking in right now would almost be worth it to see the look on her face… as her eyes adjust to my darkened apartment… as her mind processes what she’s seeing… perhaps taking it for a joke at first. Me, lying in my coffin, minding my own business. 

She doesn’t have the legal right to enter my apartment with my rent just two weeks late. I know that. She knows that. And yet she continues to shake her ring of keys as though she were a rattlesnake coiled to strike.

“I know you’re there,” she says. “You owe me money. You give me my money.”

I hunch my left shoulder away from the coffin wall. I should have allowed for a few extra inches. If I measure across my shoulders when I’m standing up, it’s not going to be the same as when I’m lying down. I should have planned for that. Stupid mistake.

The smell of the wood takes me back to the forests of Bistri?a-N?s?ud, my home which, in all likelihood, I’ll never see again—never care to see again. I think about how many things must have changed over the past century. They probably have internet now. Facebook. Netflix. I wouldn’t be surprised if they watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills or something equally disturbing. It’s better to never set foot there again than to discover they keep up with the Kardashians along with the rest of the world. Anyway, the last time I was there was a disaster.

“Mister Doe.” Mrs. Dilliberato’s voice lifts on the second word. Almost flirtatiously. A new tack, perhaps? “I’m tired of waiting. Tomorrow, I’m filing the papers to give you official notice.” 

Hah! Even I know that from the date of filing those papers to the date the sheriff comes to put a lock on my door, I have a good two, maybe even three, years. And if we’re going to get contentious about it, I might just stop paying rent altogether. Fortunately, I live in a city that favors tenants’ rights over landlords’ rights. I’m not trying to take advantage, it’s just that current circumstances dictate.

At first, the idea of a coffin in my apartment felt a little silly, but I don’t regret it now—it’s part of my heritage, no matter how trite some customs might seem in the modern age. I find it reassuring. Comforting. Although I admit the pressure against my left shoulder is enough to drive a person mad after twelve straight hours. The padded silk lining eases my pain, though—a nice touch if I do say so myself. And the clever way it converts to a work/study desk with just the touch of a button. It’s a masterpiece of creative design, and I’m not just saying that because I designed it. I only wish I could share it with the world.

“You can’t hide from me, Mr. Doe!”

But the coffin, well, that’s also pure camp. Why not have a little fun if I have to spend half my day inside my apartment? Awake with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. 

MYTH: Vampires sleep in coffins. Nonsense! That’s just for the movies. And also, back in the day, if you lived in a sleepy little hamlet in the Transylvanian mountains where everyone was into everyone else’s business, there weren’t a lot of places you could hang out before sunset without people wondering why you religiously avoided the sun. SPF and skin cancer weren’t things we worried about back then. A coffin was purely for the sake of convenience, a place where people wouldn’t go looking for you when the sun was shining. Encouraging you to come out and enjoy the beautiful day. Expecting you to help with the harvest or sowing of crops. 

Let’s just call my coffin a reminder of days gone by. A nostalgic tribute to my roots. A way to avoid feeling so alone.

Mrs. Dilliberato jangles her key chain one more time. Her footsteps fall away as she moves down the hall towards the staircase. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

From the author:

1) John Doe is an author whose memoir is passing as fiction. What questions does the book bring up about the extent to which we are judged by our life’s work and whether it’s valuable or even possible to separate our work lives from our personal lives.

2) What do you think the book says about tribalism and birth families versus “found” or “made” families. 

3) If you were querying John Doe Does Not Suck to an agent, how would you categorize the genre? Do you think the book belongs to multiple genres and, if so, which ones?

4) Over 317 years, many people have made their mark on John Doe. One day, Angela and Bibi and Henrietta will no longer be alive. Do you think John will be emotionally prepared to move ahead and embrace his future? What message does the book convey about living in the moment when “forever” connections are impossible?

5) John Doe thrived during The Great Depression. How do you think our current era of rapidly advancing technological and medical breakthroughs might help (or hurt) John?

Weblinks

»	Author's website

Book Club Recommendations

Recommended to book clubs by 0 of 0 members.

Member Reviews

There are no user reviews at this time.
Rate this book