I'm ready to discuss Roses. Blatantly. Openly. Nakedly.
The novel meat-grinds almost every type of imaginable lipstick torture we suck in our movies and books (Roth, Ketchum, Lee, et al). If the sex in the novel appeals to anyone, sic.
The novel is also a caricature of vampire romance and zombie literature. My vampires do what Twilight vampires only lust to. My zombies are so far beyond evolution they make sense only on alien worlds--they're a perversion of mutation. And of space-time. My vampires are essentially animals, which explains why they are so stupid, mistrustful and slow to evolve. If to the humans the vampire bite is sex, then to the vampires human sacrifice is orgasmic, and sometimes divine. Isn't all violence tantric?
But the vampires are social beings as well, and they need a coven, a haven, homespun by the magic of the seer.
And come on: no one has ever mentioned the brutal intricacy of the setting! The architecture of that world is one of my favorite elements. After all, isn't the appeal of post-apocalyptic settings partly the view?
This book takes itself as seriously as most first horror novels of 21-year-olds. Which is why it's funny and gross and awkward in its startling bloom.