by Glen Duncan
Glen Duncan delivers a powerful, sexy new version of the werewolf legend, a riveting and monstrous thriller—with a profoundly human heart.
Jake Marlowe is the last werewolf. Now just over 200 years old, Jake has an insatiable appreciation for good scotch, books, and the pleasures of the flesh, with a voracious libido and a hunger for meat that drives him crazy each full moon. Although he is physically healthy, Jake has slipped into a deep existential crisis, considering taking his own life and ending a legend that has lived for thousands of years. But there are two dangerous groups—one new, one ancient—with reasons of their own for wanting Jake very much alive.
Glen Duncan delivers a powerful, sexy new version of the werewolf legend, a riveting and monstrous thriller—with a profoundly human heart.
Jake Marlowe is the last werewolf. Now just over 200 years old, Jake has an insatiable appreciation for good scotch, books, and the pleasures of the flesh, with a voracious libido and a hunger for meat that drives him crazy each full moon. Although he is physically healthy, Jake has slipped into a deep existential crisis, considering taking his own life and ending a legend that has lived for thousands of years. But there are two dangerous groups—one new, one ancient—with reasons of their own for wanting Jake very much alive.
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Chapter One
1
“It’s official,” Harley said. “They killed the Berliner two nights ago. You’re the last.” Then after a pause: “I’m sorry.”
Yesterday evening this was. We were in the upstairs library of his Earl’s Court house, him standing at a tense tilt between stone hearth and oxblood couch, me in the window seat with a tumbler of forty-five-year-old Macallan and a Camel Filter, staring out at dark London’s fast-falling snow. The room smelled of tangerines and leather and the fire’s pine logs. Forty-eight hours on I was still sluggish from the Curse. Wolf drains from the wrists and shoulders last. In spite of what I’d just heard I thought: Madeline can give me a massage later, warm jasmine oil and the long-nailed magnolia hands I don’t love and never will.
“What are you going to do?” Harley said.
I sipped, swallowed, glimpsed the peat bog plashing white legs of the kilted clan Macallan as the whisky kindled in my chest. It’s official. You’re the last. I’m sorry. I’d known what he was going to tell me. Now that he had, what? Vague ontological vertigo. Kubrik’s astronaut with the severed umbilicus -spinning away all alone into infinity . . . At a certain point one’s imagination refused. The phrase was: It doesn’t bear thinking about. Manifestly it didn’t.
“Marlowe?”
“This room’s dead to you,” I said. “But there are bibliophiles the world over it would reduce to tears of joy.” No exaggeration. Harley’s collection’s worth a million-six, books he doesn’t go to anymore because he’s entered the phase of having given up reading. If he lives another ten years he’ll enter the next phase—of having gone back to it. Giving up reading seems the height of maturity at first. Like all such heights a false summit. It’s a human thing. I’ve seen it countless times. Two hundred years, you see everything countless times.
“I can’t imagine what this is like for you,” he said.
“Neither can I.”
“We need to plan.”
I didn’t reply. Instead let the silence fill with the alternative to planning. Harley lit a Gauloise and topped us up with an unsteady hand, lilac-veined and liver-spotted these days. At seventy he maintains longish thinning grey hair and a plump nicotined moustache that looks waxed but isn’t. There was a time when his young men called him Buffalo Bill. Now his young men know Buffalo Bill only as the serial killer from The Silence of the Lambs. During periods of psychic weakness he leans on a bone-handled cane, though he’s been told by his doctor it’s ruining his spine.
“The Berliner,” I said. “Grainer killed him?”
“Not Grainer. His Californian protégé, Ellis.”
“Grainer’s saving himself for the main event. He’ll come after me alone.”
Harley sat down on the couch and stared at the floor. I know what scares him: If I die first there’ll be no salving surreality between him and his conscience. Jake Marlowe is a monster, fact. Kills and devours people, fact. Which makes him, Harley, an accessory after the fact, fact. With me alive, walking and talking and doing the lunar shuffle once a month he can live in it as in a decadent dream. Did I mention my best friend’s a werewolf, by the way? Dead, I’ll force a brutal awakening. I helped Marlowe get away with murder. He’ll probably kill himself...
About the Author-
- Glen Duncan is the author of seven previous novels. He was chosen by both Arena and The Times Literary Supplement as one of Britain’s best young novelists. He lives in London.
Reviews-
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May 2, 2011
At the start of British author Duncan's fine supernatural thriller, centuries-old lycanthrope Jake Marlowe learns he has become the last known werewolf on earth. Soon Jake is on the run from not only WOCOP, an antioccult agency that wants to hunt him down for sport, but also vampires, who have discovered that a werewolf bite can desensitize them to the ravages of sun exposure. After escaping horrible torments at the hands of both parties, Jake is shocked to discover that he may not be the last wolf standing, and that it's crucial he survive to propagate his species. Duncan (A Day and a Night and a Day) keeps the pages turning with hairbreadth escapes that have Jake globe-trotting for dear life from Europe to the U.S., but the true allure of his tale is the poetic and evocative prose by which Jake relates his transformations, kills, and thoughts. Savvy and exceptionally literate, this is one smart modern werewolf tale. 100,000 first printing. -
Starred review from May 1, 2011
Duncan continues the long tradition of werewolf literature in this harrowing novel of lupine transformation.
In the 21st century the victims of werewolves' bites have been dying rather than transforming, so when the penultimate werewolf is eliminated, Jake Marlowe becomes the last. Jake is on the hit list for WOCOP, the World Organization for the Control of Occult Phenomena, and he expects to be eliminated by Grainer, whose family he had killed and devoured during a full moon a while back. Helping Jake is his friend Harley, whom he had saved from a homophobic attack some 30 years before. Jake realizes the stakes are high when Harley's head is delivered to him...so obviously no help will come from that quarter. We find out that Jake was born in the early 19th century and became a werewolf through a brief and fluky encounter with one while on a trip to Wales. His transformation led him to kill and eat his beloved wife Arabella. (Duncan gives us much more information about werewolves to devour—for example, that their libidos become hyperactive during the time of the full moon.) Although Jake fully expects to be eliminated, he makes every effort to escape from the various, mostly inept hunters WOCOP sends. And then something unprecedented and earth-shattering occurs—his acute sense of smell leads him to find another werewolf, this one a female named Talulla Demetriou. Together they go on the lam, but Grainer continues his pursuit—at least until Ellis, Grainer's protege, tries to strike a deal with Jake, for Ellis would like to kill Grainer instead. It seems as though having at least one werewolf alive gives Ellis a reason for living.
Duncan's writing is quirky and brilliant—and definitely not for kids.
(COPYRIGHT (2011) KIRKUS REVIEWS/NIELSEN BUSINESS MEDIA, INC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)
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Starred review from March 1, 2011
Yes, this novel by the keen-eyed, edgy Duncan (A Day and a Night and a Day) features the last living werewolf. And, yes, there are vampires here, who crave Jake for reasons that won't be revealed. But don't give this book to Twilight groupies; the frank tone, dark wit, and elegant, sophisticated language will likely do them in. Jake Marlowe knows he's alone in the world because his only friend, Harley, who's tapped into WOCOP (World Organisation for the Control of Occult Phenomena), has learned that the penultimate wulf was just killed. When Jake discovers his singular status, he's ready to die himself; he's lived two centuries with his burden and knows that he's targeted by a WOCOP higher-up whose father he killed and ate. Then something big happens to change Jake's resolve. Duncan does not pretty up Jake, instead making his monthly transformation and desire for sex, blood, and death ("fuckkilleat") unadorned and brutal. But he also makes Jake's drive to survive our own, even as he shows us Jake's--dare one say it--humanity. VERDICT An adult rendering of a legend that's currently running amok, this work is smart, original, and completely absorbing. Highly recommended. [See Prepub Alert, 1/3/11.]--Barbara Hoffert, Library Journal
Copyright 2011 Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.
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April 1, 2011
I just dont want anymore life, writes Marlow in his diary. He is the last of his kind, a werewolf with no pack, and feeling suicidal. Hes being hunted by the werewolf division of WOCOP (World Organization for the Control of Occult Phenomena), so why not turn himself in anyway? The head of the WOCOP intends to kill him by the next full moon, not as a man, but as a beast. Both haunted and hollowed by the atrocious hunger to feed on human flesh when the curse changes him, Marlow has his reasons to end it. That is, until he discovers someone else, aside from the usual suspects, seems to want him, too. Though shelves appear to overflow with supernatural fare like this, a space should be cleared for this violent, sexy thriller. Marlow does quite a bit of contemporary philosophizing in an almost noirish fashion. However, as a character with such a long life span and no more will to live, hes still surprised by life and quite charming. The wrench Duncan throws midway through the plot will leave the reader and Marlow gasping in shock. This title proves to be the answer to Twilight that adults have been waiting for. HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: A 100,000-copy first printing, national media appearances by the author, and extensive print and online advertising guarantee a curious readership.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2011, American Library Association.) -
Justin Cronin, The New York Times Book Review
"Glorious . . . I can't help thinking that wry, world-weary Jake Marlowe would make a fabulous dinner companion. Just not during a full moon."
- Ron Charles, The Washington Post "Duncan has finally driven a stake through vampire supremacy . . . Cerebral and campy, philosophical and ironic, The Last Werewolf is a novel that's always licking its bloody lips and winking at us . . . A dark thriller that explodes with enough conspiracies, subterfuges and murders to raise your hackles. Not to mention such hot werewolf sex that you'll be tempted to wander out under the full moon yourself next month."
- Los Angeles Times "Muscular and breathtaking. . . . When you finish reading this novel, you're going to feel full. But it's a good feeling of fullness, just as Jacob feels after one of his moonlight rampages."
- Kirkus Reviews "Quirky and brilliant--and definitely not for kids."
- Publishers Weekly "Savvy and exceptionally literate, this is one smart modern werewolf tale. . . [A] fine supernatural thriller."
- Stephen Poole, The Guardian (UK) "The Last Werewolf is like an updated version of Dracula, only for werewolves, and as rewritten by Bret Easton Ellis . . . In its own blood-crazed and sex-dazed way, The Last Werewolf makes the case for literature."
- Kate Saunders, The Times (London) "Sexy, funny, blisteringly intelligent . . . Duncan is the cleverest literary horror merchant since Bram Stoker."
- Chris Bohjalian, author of Secrets of Eden, The Double Bind, and Midwives "Okay, no hyperbole, just an admission: I loved this novel. It's a howl, a rager, a scream. May The Last Werewolf put a stake through the heart of humorless, overwrought vampire sagas. Two big thumb-claws up!"
- James Medd, The Word (UK) "A brilliantly original thriller, a love story, a witty treatise on male (and female) urges, even an existential musing on what it is to be human. Get one for yourself and one for the Twilight fan in your life."
- Courtney Jones, Booklist "Space should be cleared for this violent, sexy thriller . . . The answer to Twilight that adults have been waiting for."
- Barbara Hoffert, Library Journal (Starred review) "Yes, there are vampires here . . . But don't give this book to Twilight groupies; the frank tone, dark wit, and elegant, sophisticated language will likely do them in. . . . Smart, original, and completely absorbing. Highly recommended."
- Scott Smith, author of The Ruins "The best books are blurb defying; they're far too potent for a flimsy net of adjectives ever to capture them. I could say that The Last Werewolf is smart, thrilling, funny, moving, beautifully written, and a joy to read, and this would all be true. But it would also be a woeful understatement of what Glen Duncan has accomplished with his extraordinary novel. The only useful thing I can offer you is a simple admonishment. Stop reading my words, and start reading his. Trust me: you'll be happy you did."
- Nick Cave "A magnificent novel. A brutal, indignant, lunatic howl. A sexy, blood-spattered page-turner, beautifully crafted and full of genuine suspense, that tears the thorax out of the horror genre to create something that stands rapturous and majestic and entirely on its own."
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