Sounds like a rather simplistic horror novel that might be churned out by a hack writer in the 1940s for a half cent per word. But it’s not like that at all. This book was originally published in 1991 and is an odd combination of dark horror and comedic horror. It’s fair to say that I was never always sure when I should be chuckling at the latest horrific scene, or disgusted. Much of the activity that Valerie engages in is utterly horrible. Not just the murders to supply the monsters with fresh meat, but also scenes of Valerie heaping mental abuse on two vulnerable young girls.
But all that is balanced with Valerie’s own perspective which is one of dogged determination to keep feeding the monsters while trying to keep one step ahead of suspicion. She even communicates with those she has killed via her word processor to get advice on how to handle whatever crisis has just developed. She’s an engaging character and I found myself simultaneously rooting for her in her next “project” while also feeling sorry for her and hoping she gets caught and confined to an institution. In fact, throughout the novel we readers must wonder if she truly is bonkers or if, perhaps, this is all real.
This is an easy-to-read novel, a page-turner if you will. It’s not meant to be realistic per se, as is obvious in the way Valerie gets away with everything for so long. The one investigating cop isn’t all that competent for most of the novel, content to believe what is easiest. Friends, family and neighbors tend to ignore the obvious as well. But that all lends itself to the plot and Valerie’s outlook. The end could have gone so many different ways but turned out to be something other than what I was expecting.