I've been spending a lot of time in the Regency period and thought I'd try a taste of something new and different. Happy Hour of the Damned certainly fits that description. Thanks to Mark Henry I will never walk into a Starbucks alone again.

Once I managed to pry my copy out of my significant other's hands (yes, he got to it first and would not put it down) I found Happy Hour of the Damned to be a quick witty read that reminded me of a cross between Bridget Jones and The Devil Wears Prada.

Amanda Feral* thought being dead would be different. For one thing, wouldn't you have great skin in heaven – you know, all that ethereal goodness and whatnot? Unfortunately Amanda didn't end up in heaven. She wound up in Seattle. See, she wasn’t exactly dead; more like undead.

After a run-in with a stranger in an elevator, Amanda learns she's become one of the hottest (in her opinion) zombies on the scene. Despite the whole eating people thing, being a zombie isn't so bad. Awesome bars, no worries of gaining weight and the ability to smell hot, young flesh a mile away – all gifts to the zombie queens. Besides that, she found some really great undead friends - vampires, succubi – interesting people with amazing fashion sense.

Undead life was going awesome until Liesl's frantic "HELP" text message coincides with her not showing up at the Well of Souls for drinks. What to do? Well, Amanda does the only thing a well-groomed zombie hottie can do. She grabs her favorite Jimmy Choos and heads out the door to find her friend.

Mark Henry has taken a fresh approach and combined a traditional chic-lit diva with an undead background to create a super-entertaining story of undead life and love in urban America. Who knew the undead had their own paparazzi?

If you want a sassy heroine, tons of undead laughs and instructions on how to make the ultimate Flirtini, Happy Hour of the Damned is for you. Give it a try.

*Yes, Feral like the cat.
 
Reviewed By Sabine Maurier
© February 2008