Fever House by Keith Rosson

 

This is my first DNF in a while, and I've read some really mediocre-at-best books over at least the last couple-three months. The prose is, I suppose, competent enough; other than persistent use of "alright" as a word, there weren't like glaring infelicities. The story, though ... oh my brain the story. I couldn't really muster any caring for any of the characters, they all seemed fated for the chipper-shredder at any time; the events started kinda ludicrous (the archangel Michael is a character for the luvva the gawds, and the primary Maguffin of at least the first half of the novel is a fucking hand that seems to be fucking Satan's) and got worse right up to the moment when a couple of characters got chased out of a morgue by the fucking undead. I loathe zombie fiction, at this point, and that was when I lost the willingness to keep trying to suspend my disbelief. Also, there's a goddam sequel, which I hope it's obvious I won't be wasting my time on.