Do you ever wonder what keeps horror paperback collectors digging? It’s books like this.
Live Girls is dirty and sleazy. It’s full of blood, sex, and fantastic prose. Ray Garton’s teeth are poised right over the pulse-point of what NY was like in the 1980s. I can see the flashing red lights reflected in street puddles on Times Square. I can smell the cigarette smoke filling the taxicab.
Every-man Davey Owen is a human doormat working a dead-end job. That’s about to change, and it starts with a visit to his local gloryhole. What follows is a gory and frequently pornographic ride into a hidden vampire society. I loved every blasphemous minute of it.
Publisher: Pocket Books, 1987
Review by Taylor Hough
Instagram: absolutely_grim
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