Monday, December 10, 2012

Review: Satanic Summer

Satanic Summer
Satanic Summer by Andersen Prunty

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Book Info: Genre: Bizarro
Reading Level: Adult
Recommended for: Sick puppies (like me!)
Trigger Warnings: Violence (to women, to men, to animals with ritual sacrifice), explicit sex (straight, lesbian, with a goat-man, and with a goat), general weird nastiness

Disclosure: I picked up this book when it was on a free promotion on Amazon. All opinions are my own.

Synopsis: Doug Backus is a normal young man trying to lead a clean Christian life but when mysterious and gruesome deaths begin occurring in his town of Clover, Kentucky, he learns that his life can never be as wholesome as he wants. Along with his heathen friend Crank and pariah neighbor Whitney, he becomes involved in an exploration of the town's secrets that will either lead them to their doom or answer all the questions Doug has about almost everything. Only one thing becomes certain: Salvation is not an option. From Andersen Prunty, author of Fuckness and Hi I'm a Social Disease comes a sleazy horror comedy about friendship, religion, and satanic orgies.

My Thoughts: I first discovered Andersen Prunty when I picked up and read a copy of his book The Sorrow King (reviewed in June of 2012, link where formatting is available). I really liked his style, so when I saw this book up for promotion on Amazon, I grabbed it (I also have a few more, which I’ll be reading next). Let’s make this clear – I have never actually been contacted by Prunty asking for reviews, nor ever interacted with him to my memory. I chose these books based upon personal interest, and have decided to review them because I’m in the mood to do so.

Okay, so, if you’re bothered by explicit sexuality, violence, or general weirdness, this book isn’t for you, but damn, I had a great time reading it! Prunty does such a great job of going into Doug’s head – such a typical 18-year-old, trying to do the right thing but endlessly distracted by his libido. It was hilarious! And this description of Crank’s band’s practice made me almost fall off the bed laughing:
Crank played his battered electric guitar furiously and without any recognizable chords or notes. The drummer, who went by the name Patrick Crayze, had his drum kit set up backward so he faced the trailer and away from the band. The keyboardist, Lurk, had passed out or something. The keyboard was off the stand but still turned on. Lurk’s head rested on random keys providing a constant and eerie wash of sound. None of the band members wore shirts. Stupid tattoos were as ubiquitous as empty beer cans. Crank’s mom held a hose and stood watering the side of the trailer. Doug felt like he had stumbled into recreation time at a mental institution.
The goat delivery service (“Baal’s Goats on Demand”) also made me laugh like crazy. Chainsaw Enema’s last show was tragical, but also hilarious – some classic black humor – and Crank’s reaction to Whitney’s call to storm the church was classic: “Crank thought that sounded way beyond arena rock. He thought it sounded totally black metal.

I tell you, if you can’t laugh at horrifying things like that, this book is not for you. But if you’re a totally sick puppy, like I am, then you will really enjoy this book.

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