I think Hendrix started out with the concept of “wouldn’t it be cool if a book club of stereotypical housewives dedicated to reading horror novels actually encountered a for-reals vampire, and had to fight it using nothing but their wifely/womanly skills?” The resulting execution is at times hilarious and incisive, which lets you overlook the fact that none of the characters are likable. The women, for all their strength around one another, are terrified of crossing their men; those men are uniformly patronizing, dismissive, or controlling; the children that the women repeatedly say they would die to protect … give the audience zero reasons to care about them either. I did like the nod to the disparity of race outcomes, both in neighborhood development and as vampire pickings, but again it was brought up just for the white women to wring their hands over briefly, and for the men to ignore entirely. It’s kind of like this cider I tried yesterday that hit the palate right off the bat with lovely sweet notes, but then faded to bitter dryness on the tongue: after enjoying this book (and it was extremely enjoyable!), you’re left wondering whether these people should have been saved from vampires at all.