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Pangs
Unlike their Blood Brethren, Warner and Seth are vampires who subsist on talent. They have been enemies for centuries, competing to feed on artists with the most prodigious musical gifts, and country blues singer Wade Dixon is no exception. But the pursuit and capture of Dixon unleashes unexpected forces that carry these combatants from the earthly realm to a dangerous land of eternal night where they must work together or die alone.
232 pages, Kindle Edition
First published September 23, 2021
25 people want to read
About the author
Jerry L. Wheeler
21 books29 followersEditor of the Lambda Literary Award finalists Tented: Gay Erotic Tales from Under the Big Top (Lethe Press 2010) and his short story collection Strawberries and Other Erotic Fruits (Lethe Press, 2012) as well as three volumes of gay erotica for Bold Strokes Books, Jerry L. Wheeler has appeared in many anthologies, including Law of Desire, Best Gay Romance 2010, Bears in the Wild, and I Like It Like That. His first novel, The Dead Book, is forthcoming from Lethe Press in the fall of 2013. Be sure to catch his book reviews on the web at Out in Print (www.outinprint.net).
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
October 18, 2021
The first time I bumped into Jerry L. Wheeler's idea of 'talent-vampires' I was hooked, and it was worth the wait for those glimpses in short fiction—already some of my favourites—to turn into a novel-length view with 'Pangs.'
Warner and Seth are some of the most delightful vampires I've read in ages, and that's in no small part to how Wheeler walks the line between mythology and his own twists on the idea of vampirism—in this case, the slow draining of artistic talent from a potentially once-in-a-generation musician, where both vampires set their sights (and, lusts) on the same target, and face off as they've faced off many times before for the power this chosen victim might bring them. (In point of fact, I think the last time I enjoyed vampires this much was with another unique take on them from Christian Baines's Arcadia Trust series, which is another set of stories where the mythology of vampires, while still recognizable, are turned askew.)
What appears at the start to be exactly the above—two at-best 'frenemy' vampires competing for the same musician—shifts to something else in Wheeler's hands, though, and it's done so cleverly I was along for the ride from the get-go, especially after that first narrative plays out so shockingly different than expected, and the novel turns on its first dime (there are multiple dimes, to be clear, and each had me grinning and wondering where the tale would head next). Fans of Wheeler will find his sensuality and eroticism there along side the grittier, baser aspects—I'm aways taken aback at how well he entwines the two so seamlessly.
Ultimately, Wheeler has done to vampire stories what he did to vampires themselves: he created something recognizable but then pivots—portals, long-dead literary icons, whole worlds shaped by desire held still in a moment of time—and the journey isn't just a solid one, it's compulsively enjoyable.
Warner and Seth are some of the most delightful vampires I've read in ages, and that's in no small part to how Wheeler walks the line between mythology and his own twists on the idea of vampirism—in this case, the slow draining of artistic talent from a potentially once-in-a-generation musician, where both vampires set their sights (and, lusts) on the same target, and face off as they've faced off many times before for the power this chosen victim might bring them. (In point of fact, I think the last time I enjoyed vampires this much was with another unique take on them from Christian Baines's Arcadia Trust series, which is another set of stories where the mythology of vampires, while still recognizable, are turned askew.)
What appears at the start to be exactly the above—two at-best 'frenemy' vampires competing for the same musician—shifts to something else in Wheeler's hands, though, and it's done so cleverly I was along for the ride from the get-go, especially after that first narrative plays out so shockingly different than expected, and the novel turns on its first dime (there are multiple dimes, to be clear, and each had me grinning and wondering where the tale would head next). Fans of Wheeler will find his sensuality and eroticism there along side the grittier, baser aspects—I'm aways taken aback at how well he entwines the two so seamlessly.
Ultimately, Wheeler has done to vampire stories what he did to vampires themselves: he created something recognizable but then pivots—portals, long-dead literary icons, whole worlds shaped by desire held still in a moment of time—and the journey isn't just a solid one, it's compulsively enjoyable.
February 1, 2023
"I like slang. It's colorful, it gets right to the point, and it's fun to use. See, words are not your thing, dude. Notes are. They're fixed and unchanging. A B-flat in 1849 is the same B-flat as now, but speech is liquid. It's gotta fit the times. It's gotta play to the audience."
Do you ever read a book that's just so... lovely? That makes you feel warm and fulfilled for having read it? For me, that's exactly what Pangs was. It's a beautiful read from start to finish, it has such a distinct sense of prose, and even the parts that are heartbreaking feel like home.
Wheeler has an absolutely incredibly, very difficult-to-find style in his writing: it's both absolutely beautiful to read, but it's easy to read, too. I read through pages and pages of this book with such ease, all while being wrapped up in this very particular kind of language that shouldn't fit together as well as it does. Warner and Seth have a very proper sense of language about them, the way I imagine two vampires born centuries ago might; but Wade and Eddy have a very modern way of speaking, and the two shouldn't fit together so smoothly, but they do. You'll read words like 'my fellow' and 'my dude' in the same sentence, and it doesn't feel camp or hilarious, it just... works. I can't accurately express how impressed I am by Wheeler's writing style, but even more so, his very ideas.
I love a good vampire book. Who doesn't? I really love a good queer vampire book. But oh my god, a queer vampire book that presents an entirely new mythology for vampires? Now that's fucking something. I love unique vampire lore, I love when vampires aren't written in the classic 'can't go in sunlight, drink blood, hate garlic' formula - and not only does Wheeler subvert the entire vampire genre, but he re-writes in such a completely unique way that 266 pages isn't nearly enough to convey the depth and complexity of it. If you know me, you'll know that I'm a massive advocate of the 250-page novel, and often struggle through books longer than about 350 pages; but this is the first time that I have not only wanted a book to be twice as long as it was, but I want an entire series on Warner and Seth. There is so much more of their stories to be told, certainly, but I feel like Pangs serves as the Sparknotes version to an entire series' worth of novels. Each section of this book alone could become an entire book in its own right, and I would read every single installation in a series like this cover to cover.
But I'm getting off-track. Let's talk about Wheeler's one-of-a-kind vampire lore. Not only does Wheeler introduce us to different types of vampires (because the blood-sucking ones do still exist), but he introduces us to an entire realm of fantasy possibility. To summarize, the vampires followed in Pangs don't suck blood, but rather, feed off of others' talent. Some vampires feed off of musicians' talent, as Warner and Seth do, while others feed off of literary talent, like Eddy. The more they feed from a person's talent, the less talent the person has, so it's entirely possible to completely drain a person of their massive talent and drive them to suicide or drug addictions when they feel that they've 'washed up' or 'lost their talent.' That right there was fascinating enough for me to pick this book up in the first place - but that's only the tip of the iceberg.
For the majority of this book, Warner and Seth are stuck in an entirely separate realm, which was created in ancient times by other vampires of their kind. There's a system of caves and castles and obelisks, an entire network tying every aspect of this realm together, there's an infinite dark ocean filled with talent essence, and there were old rulers and castles and hierarchies, but it's since been largely abandoned. The imagery of this realm is absolutely beautiful, the lore is entirely fascinating, and the mythology is so concrete yet so unexplored that I'm left wanting an entire fantasy-horror series expanding on the foundations that Pangs has laid.
On top of it all, Pangs is so unabashedly, delightfully queer. It's about love and loss, about the complexity of relationships, on getting your heart broken and having it heal again. The sex scenes feel real and raw, the emotional moments make your heart ache, and it's absolutely stunning. What I loved about this novel, too, was the focus on complicated relationships - namely, between Warner and Seth. They're mortal enemies one minute, friends the next, and no matter what side they're erring towards, they're undeniably entangled so deeply in one another that love and hate is almost indistinguishable. I won't spoil anything, of course, but the ending of Pangs was so fucking perfect for this book, and I'm so glad that it ended the way it did. It felt like everything fell into place despite the pain and the heartache, and it felt sort of like a homecoming, which was certainly not what I expected to feel when reading a vampire horror novel.
I can't possibly recommend Pangs enough, and something else I'll say, while I'm at it: support indie authors, indie publishers, and indie bookstores. Just because something isn't published by a major company or sold in your major chain bookstores, that doesn't mean it isn't just as good as anything you'll find there, if not better. In particular, support queer authors, publishers, and booksellers - it's often the indie queer works that will get to the heart of queer readers more than any queer novel you'll find on BookTok.
Do you ever read a book that's just so... lovely? That makes you feel warm and fulfilled for having read it? For me, that's exactly what Pangs was. It's a beautiful read from start to finish, it has such a distinct sense of prose, and even the parts that are heartbreaking feel like home.
Wheeler has an absolutely incredibly, very difficult-to-find style in his writing: it's both absolutely beautiful to read, but it's easy to read, too. I read through pages and pages of this book with such ease, all while being wrapped up in this very particular kind of language that shouldn't fit together as well as it does. Warner and Seth have a very proper sense of language about them, the way I imagine two vampires born centuries ago might; but Wade and Eddy have a very modern way of speaking, and the two shouldn't fit together so smoothly, but they do. You'll read words like 'my fellow' and 'my dude' in the same sentence, and it doesn't feel camp or hilarious, it just... works. I can't accurately express how impressed I am by Wheeler's writing style, but even more so, his very ideas.
I love a good vampire book. Who doesn't? I really love a good queer vampire book. But oh my god, a queer vampire book that presents an entirely new mythology for vampires? Now that's fucking something. I love unique vampire lore, I love when vampires aren't written in the classic 'can't go in sunlight, drink blood, hate garlic' formula - and not only does Wheeler subvert the entire vampire genre, but he re-writes in such a completely unique way that 266 pages isn't nearly enough to convey the depth and complexity of it. If you know me, you'll know that I'm a massive advocate of the 250-page novel, and often struggle through books longer than about 350 pages; but this is the first time that I have not only wanted a book to be twice as long as it was, but I want an entire series on Warner and Seth. There is so much more of their stories to be told, certainly, but I feel like Pangs serves as the Sparknotes version to an entire series' worth of novels. Each section of this book alone could become an entire book in its own right, and I would read every single installation in a series like this cover to cover.
But I'm getting off-track. Let's talk about Wheeler's one-of-a-kind vampire lore. Not only does Wheeler introduce us to different types of vampires (because the blood-sucking ones do still exist), but he introduces us to an entire realm of fantasy possibility. To summarize, the vampires followed in Pangs don't suck blood, but rather, feed off of others' talent. Some vampires feed off of musicians' talent, as Warner and Seth do, while others feed off of literary talent, like Eddy. The more they feed from a person's talent, the less talent the person has, so it's entirely possible to completely drain a person of their massive talent and drive them to suicide or drug addictions when they feel that they've 'washed up' or 'lost their talent.' That right there was fascinating enough for me to pick this book up in the first place - but that's only the tip of the iceberg.
For the majority of this book, Warner and Seth are stuck in an entirely separate realm, which was created in ancient times by other vampires of their kind. There's a system of caves and castles and obelisks, an entire network tying every aspect of this realm together, there's an infinite dark ocean filled with talent essence, and there were old rulers and castles and hierarchies, but it's since been largely abandoned. The imagery of this realm is absolutely beautiful, the lore is entirely fascinating, and the mythology is so concrete yet so unexplored that I'm left wanting an entire fantasy-horror series expanding on the foundations that Pangs has laid.
On top of it all, Pangs is so unabashedly, delightfully queer. It's about love and loss, about the complexity of relationships, on getting your heart broken and having it heal again. The sex scenes feel real and raw, the emotional moments make your heart ache, and it's absolutely stunning. What I loved about this novel, too, was the focus on complicated relationships - namely, between Warner and Seth. They're mortal enemies one minute, friends the next, and no matter what side they're erring towards, they're undeniably entangled so deeply in one another that love and hate is almost indistinguishable. I won't spoil anything, of course, but the ending of Pangs was so fucking perfect for this book, and I'm so glad that it ended the way it did. It felt like everything fell into place despite the pain and the heartache, and it felt sort of like a homecoming, which was certainly not what I expected to feel when reading a vampire horror novel.
I can't possibly recommend Pangs enough, and something else I'll say, while I'm at it: support indie authors, indie publishers, and indie bookstores. Just because something isn't published by a major company or sold in your major chain bookstores, that doesn't mean it isn't just as good as anything you'll find there, if not better. In particular, support queer authors, publishers, and booksellers - it's often the indie queer works that will get to the heart of queer readers more than any queer novel you'll find on BookTok.
June 14, 2022
Review by Ulysses Dietz
Member of The Paranormal Guild Review Team
Although it starts in New Orleans, a classic setting for vampires over the years, Jerry Wheeler’s “Pangs” takes vampire lore in a fascinating new direction. His three-part novel focuses on two particular vampires, who are not blood drinkers, but feed on the essence of their victims. In the case of Warner and his arch nemesis of many centuries, Seth, they compete over musical talent—feeding on the raw talent of musicians. It’s a strange premise, but it largely works, especially with New Orleans as its backdrop.
The real core of this book is the difference between Warner and Seth. Warner is compassionate, and never drains all the talent from his sources. Seth, on the other hand, is cold-hearted, and unconcerned with what happens to his scores after he gets what he wants from them. This creates a fascinating dialogue in the first section, “A Thirst for Talent.”
These “essence drinkers” can kill—simply by draining the life essence out of someone. This potential deadliness comes to the fore in the second installment, “Pangs,” in which Warner finds himself dragged unwillingly into Seth’s ancient backstory and forced to confront the creature who made him. The shift in this part of the trilogy is into a bigger, stranger, more metaphysical world. Warner is forced to explore the other powers that vampires have—magic, which is something not usually linked to vampire lore beyond a few basic vampire tricks. The easy-going Warner has to fight for his life against beings he never imagined before.
The third and final part of the book is “Lord of the Land,” and takes the reader well beyond the realm of familiar vampire lore, into a place that is more of a metaphysical fantasy. Warner has to find his way back to the world he knows, in a “Lord of the Rings” kind of quest. He has to find out how far his own compassionate nature will take him. At first this finale felt abrupt and incomplete to me; because it didn’t give me what I wanted and expected. However, after considering it for a while, I realized that the author intentionallyconfounds the reader’s expectations in order to make a larger statement about compassion and forgiveness.
Member of The Paranormal Guild Review Team
Although it starts in New Orleans, a classic setting for vampires over the years, Jerry Wheeler’s “Pangs” takes vampire lore in a fascinating new direction. His three-part novel focuses on two particular vampires, who are not blood drinkers, but feed on the essence of their victims. In the case of Warner and his arch nemesis of many centuries, Seth, they compete over musical talent—feeding on the raw talent of musicians. It’s a strange premise, but it largely works, especially with New Orleans as its backdrop.
The real core of this book is the difference between Warner and Seth. Warner is compassionate, and never drains all the talent from his sources. Seth, on the other hand, is cold-hearted, and unconcerned with what happens to his scores after he gets what he wants from them. This creates a fascinating dialogue in the first section, “A Thirst for Talent.”
These “essence drinkers” can kill—simply by draining the life essence out of someone. This potential deadliness comes to the fore in the second installment, “Pangs,” in which Warner finds himself dragged unwillingly into Seth’s ancient backstory and forced to confront the creature who made him. The shift in this part of the trilogy is into a bigger, stranger, more metaphysical world. Warner is forced to explore the other powers that vampires have—magic, which is something not usually linked to vampire lore beyond a few basic vampire tricks. The easy-going Warner has to fight for his life against beings he never imagined before.
The third and final part of the book is “Lord of the Land,” and takes the reader well beyond the realm of familiar vampire lore, into a place that is more of a metaphysical fantasy. Warner has to find his way back to the world he knows, in a “Lord of the Rings” kind of quest. He has to find out how far his own compassionate nature will take him. At first this finale felt abrupt and incomplete to me; because it didn’t give me what I wanted and expected. However, after considering it for a while, I realized that the author intentionallyconfounds the reader’s expectations in order to make a larger statement about compassion and forgiveness.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews