What fell apart before me was a story about a gay vampire named Desmond who plays benevolent sugar daddy to the vapid boy toys of his past and present - Jeffrey and Tony. It's a trashy theme and it could have worked fairly well if it was done right. But it wasn't, so it didn't.

First, a middle-aged Desmond quickly falls in love with a 20-something hustler/museum curator named Tony in New York City, ca. 1998. Then it's back in time to revolutionary Paris where Desmond delivers an unfocused account of an older vampire named Charlon and his kept man, the young and randy Roger (Desmond's longtime best friend and the token heterosexual in the story). Then, after another brief stop in present-day NYC, it's off to 18th century England where we read about Desmond, the powerful landowner's young son and his barely legal, subservient valet, Jeffrey. And just when you think Dietz can't possibly drag this tired schtick out any longer and still get published, you're back in the 1700s and the theme continues with a now 21-year-old Desmond listening all wide-eyed to his older vampire mentor/creator, Baron Tsolnay.

All that and Dietz still can't come up with a single inspired character. The plot hinges unsuccessfully on the author's exploitation of the stereotypes surrounding an archetypal coupling from gay culture - the older, wiser "daddy" type and the impetuous male ingenue (a/k/a, the boy toy). Once he had that notion in his head, Dietz held on for dear life and rode it all the way to the end of the book.

Rather than focus on character development, he just started scraping off the serial numbers by interchanging character names. To the casual observer, there are several main characters, but in reality, there are NO well-developed characters in the story -- just two half-baked character sketches that get a new name, new face, new clothing and new home whenever Dietz decides to jump forward or backward in time. The French vampires (Charlon, Roger and a handful of others) become nothing more than extras in this story, clumsily jettisoned into oblivion because Dietz doesn't know what to do with them.

Dietz clearly didn't have a strong understanding of the story he set out to write. The story is rife with inconsistencies and inaccuracies. For example, at the end of the prologue (page 6), he has Desmond reminiscing about "a night like this -- a cold winter night..." But then, just one day later in the chronology of the story (page 91), Desmond and Tony grab "their coats, heading out into the bright November morning." Huh? When does winter begin in New York? That'd be the end of December - not November. November would make it a cold AUTUMN night.

The dialogue is insipid and any iota of sensuality is squashed by Dietz's constant blushing. Just imagine the worst soft-core sex film you ever watched and you'll have an idea of how this book reads. Stiff, awkward, self-conscious dialogue that lasts just long enough to get Dietz to his next tepid sex scene, all of which are written as though he's never had sex with the lights on before and thinks the whole experience is somehow too sordid to write about. He actually uses the term "private parts" in a sex scene. How very prim. Instead of writing about interesting sex between believable characters, Dietz saves his lust for furniture.

Thankfully, Dietz does have a day job; he's the curator for the decorative arts department of The Newark Museum in Newark, New Jersey. Nonfiction decorative arts books appear to comprise the rest of his ouevre so its no holds barred when it comes time for him to spout off about the furnishings mentioned in the book. Page after page after page of furniture and more furniture. If you've read Anne Rice and you adore how she eschews storytelling only to go on and on about the flatware on the dining room banquette and the design of the breakfront in the front parlor, then you might enjoy easily a quarter of this book.

One Amazon reviewer refers to Dietz's writing style as "succinct." It's not. To be succinct, the book would have to tell a rich story in an economical manner. _Desmond_ is simply rushed and poorly conceived. Dietz hurries from one scene to the next without filling in any of the blanks that would have added depth to the story and its cast, chucking in directionless text about home furnishings when he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Another big problem with this book is that Dietz never knows his characters well enough to write them convincingly. Charlon is first depicted as a beastly sort who rules his fellow vampires with an iron fist, but then he offers no resistance to his kept man, Roger, leaving Paris with Desmond. The character of Tony Chapman doesn't develop so much as he becomes another character entirely, with him doing things during the last 30 or so pages of the book the true blue Tony I had grown to know and loathe would never have dreamed of doing. There's also a trumped up subplot about a "gay vampire sex killer" whose role at the end of the story is so unlikely as to be unbelievable. Like I said, half-baked.

_Desmond_ is so bad that I contacted the publisher, Alyson Books, asking how something so bad could have gotten past their editors. The representative I heard from disavows any connection to this novel. In fact, I was told that those who pushed this book through no longer work for the company. At least it appears that the world won't have to suffer a sequel.


Romance that happens to star a vampire- not a bad thing   December 7, 2001
 5 out of 9 found this review helpful

This book is a hopelessly romantic novel that happens to star a vampire (which is not necessarily a bad thing)- not bloody vampire pornography (which is not necessarily a bad thing either).
Just know what you're getting yourself into, and you won't be disappointed.
Perhaps you should read with a grain of salt the negative reviews on this page. It sounds to me like they were expecting something more "modern vampire" and less "a novel of love". (...)

Sure, this book reads like a first novel- some of the dialog is a little strained.
But loving or not loving this book depends on your dreamy romantic quotient. Remember the old "Beauty and Beast" TV series? It wasn't about half-human-half-cat horror- it was about outsiders finding each other; about wanting to be swept away by some big warm emotionally tortured mythical creature who wants to love and protect you. Or conversely, about being the mythical creature who has given up on love but is drawn to a beautiful man who needs to be saved.
If you can get all misty picturing yourself in either role, you will love this book. Yes, it's giddy, bodice-ripper, goofily romantic stuff-- and ain't that wonderful!


Something a little different - and that's not a "bad" thing   November 7, 2000
 4 out of 6 found this review helpful

I'd have to disagree with those who complain about Desmond being an "anti-vampire" as well as being a "benevolent sugar daddy" to young boy toys. Good grief, folks, where's your *imagination*! Sure, Mr. Dietz has created a vampire that doesn't follow the "old rules" about vampire folklore (which was, basically, a fiction in and of itself, one must remember). And no, Desmond isn't a terribly frightening character, unlike most of his violent, also fictional predecessors.

But I really don't think it was Dietz' intent to write a great work of literary horror, so much as to write something that one can sit down and read, laughing at the funny parts, crying at the sad ones and just *enjoying* a very unusually touching story.

Which I did.

Who needs literary snobbery, anyways?

BTW, this one's going on *my* recommendation list, for sure.


Love and Cry with Desmond   June 10, 2002
 3 out of 6 found this review helpful

Having read most of Anne Rice's books and also other vampire stories, I have to say that Desmond was definitely one of the very best ones. I have suffered and loved with Desmond.
It is a novel full of love and erotic scenes, violence and hunger, a true vampire book.
Thank you for writing it, Ulysses G. Dietz!