Glen Duncan's The Last Werewolf, Allison Moon's Lunatic Fringe and Benedict Smith's The Pack - three 2011 werewolf releases. Are werewolves the new vampire?
If Glen Duncan is to believed: absolutely not.
In The Last Werewolf, Jacob Marlowe, werewolf, is as thoroughly un-vampiric as possible (both in the classic and modern interpretations of the monster). Marlowe is a visceral, passionate, animal - filled with a pungent predatory aggression that permeates his every action. The problem is, he's all musked up with nowhere to go. Marlowe's the last of his kind, and has spent the last two hundred years coming to terms with this morbid fact.
Mr. Duncan's book focuses on Marlowe as the animal-man - both superhuman and subhuman, a sort of walking Id. That alone would fill the pages of a dozen books. (Marlowe, in fact, keeps a fairly detailed journal. I'm surprised it hasn't been optioned by Starz.) He fucks and eats and smokes and fucks and fucks a bit more (there's a lot of fucking - not lovely passionate sparkle sex, but panting, sweaty mounting).
But, after two centuries, now what? Marlowe's tried indulging himself and reforming himself, and all variations in-between. But even the lustiest animal eventually tires and he's become a very old dog indeed.
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