The Undead Kama Sutra

Since the folks at EOS were kind enough to send me a copy of The Undead Kama Sutra, I felt that I should extend them the same courtesy and read this book. This is the third book in Mario Acevedo's Felix Gomez detective series, but I don't believe that it is necessary to have had read the first two books (something I haven't done yet).

Perhaps a plot summary is in order, because god knows after you finish reading my review, the summary may be all you want to know of the book. Vampire PI, Felix Gomez, is charged with finding out more information about the near mythical underground sex-tome, The Undead Kama Sutra. It’s held in such regard within the vampire community because it can “realign the chakra” causing vampires to “reverse psychic damage and heal mental and emotional wounds.” Hmm, how philosophical?

But wait, let’s not just stop there: positions in the erotic tome come with such hysterically knee slapping names as “Monkey Laughs at Moon” and “Feeding the Melon.” Can’t stop laughing at how ingenious the names are? Yeah, me neither—so funny! I kept waiting for the “Hidden Trap Door from Behind” position.

Sadly, the position names are the high point of this book. Honestly, I’d rather watch people perform Tai Chi in the park for the rest of my life than want to hear anymore about chakras and The Undead Kama Sutra. I’d rather Tae Bo around the US with Billy Blanks than watch anyone acting out the things found in this sex-tome.

Okay you may be saying, “We get it, but that can’t be all this book is about right?” Fair enough. I guess I forgot to mention that Felix Gomez has also been tasked with the dying wish of his alien buddy to “save the Earth women.” From what you may ask? Well that would be giving things away. Let’s just say, I envy you for not knowing.

Enough negatives, on to the positives—it’s fairly short. It’s also self-contained which is nice I guess. The story ended when the pages ran out. The cover was pretty nice. It was free. Is that enough?

I'm not entirely sure who this series is marketed towards, but it sure isn't me. I feel that the target audience for these books is the 14-17 year-old adolescent boy demographic. The demographic that love The Hardy Boys but always wished there were more soft-core titillation and blood in the stories. The same demographic that watches scrambled porn on cable, enjoys the spice channel, and laughs when they stumble upon their father’s hidden stash of Playboy magazines. I mean many of the characters walk around naked most of the time for no other reason than to be naked. If I have to hear another descriptive of, "she had a bikini that was too small for her breasts and she knew it", I'm going to weep—I’m talking about openly weeping without any regard to shame.

Also Mr. Acevedo's writing is extremely clichéd and weak. Characters go from point A-B with expository that seem almost ridiculously simple.

i.e.: I need to go there- So I get in a car and drive- Here I am driving- Still driving- I pull up to where I was driving towards- I get out of the car and here I am.

Basically, that’s how the descriptives go in this book. Take this "fine" writing and throw plot ideas in a hat and pull things out at random and you have what passes for a story here. I'm not giving this a lower score because like I said, I don't believe I'm the target readership and perhaps 14-17 year-old boys will love the cheesy "is that a pen in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me" dialogue. And besides, it knows it has its fair share of faults and doesn't take itself too seriously, unlike a lot of so called “literary” books out there. Now excuse me while I cry over the wasted hours spent reading this book that I'll never get back.

Not recommended for anyone who is old enough to buy a lotto ticket.

If you liked this also check out: The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Supercharged Kama Sutra Illustrated, the always heart numbingly fun “danger stranger” (if you don’t know what that means Google it!), any American Pie movie, and the absurd yet enticing Hardy Boys and the Rainbow Party.