One twisted mothafucker, he is. The only other books of his that I had read were The Great and Secret Show and Cabal and other Short Stories. Those books I quite liked, although I read those in my high school horror novels phase. Cabal had quite a bit of sex and gross stuff, but man did he dial up the ick factor in this one.
Todd Pickett is a Hollywood golden boy, except he's getting just a teensy bit older. Needing to recuperate in secret after a plastic surgery gone horrible wrong, his longtime agent finds him a secluded mansion in an unnamed canyon beside Laurel. But the Canyon isn't really unnamed, it used to be named Coldheart Cayon, and it was the site of decadent parties and orgies, and all manner of sexual perversities. And it was all lead by the Queen, silent film star Katya Lupi, a beautiful but cold and mean woman, dedicated to pleasure. I'm starting to sound like the book jacket, aren't I?
Anyhoo, Todd moves in, weird stuff happens, and different characters come in like his agent and the president of his fan club, excuse me, appreciation society.
What I liked about the book was that the true protagonist wasn't the movie star or his beautiful agent. It was this overweight, obsessive, but also competent, calm, maternal and loving fan. It has themes of redemption and is a cautionary story about addiction, and excess and loneliness. Of Hollywood, actually.
But the ick factor, man, it was icky. Ugh. I mean, I understand why it's there, it is needed in the context of the book, but sometimes it was pointless. I mean, why does *SPOILER. haha* ghost Todd have a perma-hard on before going into the light? huh??!!
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