Knuckle Supper by Drew Stepek

You can tell a lot about a book by the opening lines.

Be forewarned; very, ahem, strong language ahead. I’ve done a bit of selective censoring, but you can tell what Stepek wrote in the text.

Every once and a while things went horribly wrong.

“Dez, get her in the fu*%ing bathroom, you @$shole!” I screamed, subduing the pimp t#@t by wrapping him across the neck with a crowbar. Snot from his jug-head splashed all over the hardwood floor.

Thus begins Knuckle Supper, Drew Stepek’s vampire gangland epic. As I mentioned on the most recent Bookrageous podcast, Knuckle Supper is a book full of incredibly inventive ideas. Let’s start with the fact that the fiction behind these vampires is original; it’s a blood disorder rather than a mythical curse. The vampires are gang-bangers because, when you can’t go out during the day, your employment options become fairly limited. Since drug-addicted vampires don’t really have blood flowing through their bodies, they have to find people with functioning circulatory systems, inject them with drugs and then perform a back-alley transfusion to get high.

On top of vampire gangs, you’ve got evil both banal and distinct. Throughout the novel, we see characters both reinforcing and rejecting stereotypes. The multiple vampire gangs (there’s quite a few kicking around) are a mix of 70s punks, preppies and Rastas. Most of the vampires reject the pop fiction surrounding them, but some don metal fangs and embrace the myths. The church, usually the noble enemies of vampires, are represented in Knuckle Supper by a group of fanatics known as The Cloth. Everything is busted in Stepek’s novel, and his twists on common tropes are delightful.

The main thrust of the novel is the story of RJ and Bait, a drug-addicted vampire and a 12-year-old prostitute he rescues from her pimp as the novel opens. RJ is the leader of the Knucklers, a gang at the bottom of the “LA vampire gang” totem pole. When Bait, RJ and his compatriot Dex come across a duffel of heroin worth some serious money, they keep it rather than come clean to King Cobra,  kingpin of the vamp gangs. Too many drugs and not enough smarts is a dangerous combination, and things get testy between Dex and RJ. This ennui spreads to Bait, the Knucklers, the rest of the gangs, and King Cobra.

Chaos ensues.

The book is fantastically dirty. Not dirty as in sexy, but just grimy, filthy, gutsy gross. Stepek has a gift for describing society’s underbelly. Basically, Knuckle Supper has more fluids and shrapnel than a Gallagher show. There are bongs and hookahs made out of human bodies. It loses a bit of impact after a while - you really get nailed over the head with puke, blood and urine - but it works in making the LA of the novel a vicious place.

Stepek does a great job making RJ, Bait and the extended cast sympathetic, even if no one is ever particularly likable. RJ, Bait, and King Cobra are often annoying and uncomfortable reading companions, but they at least operate with a conscience. Given their respective situations, you can expect them to be a bit gruff. The few that are without redeeming qualities - Dex and The Habit, in particular - are drawn that way with good reason. They’re, in Buffy parlance, the “big bad.” They’re downright evil because, well, they need to be downright evil.

However, Knuckle Supper can be a bit clunky. I’ve never (as far as I know) met a member of the undead, but apparently they talk a lot. Stepek uses his book to discuss tons of big ideas, bouncing between drugs, prostitution, child abuse, gang violence, religion, and other topics dark and dreary. As with the brutal violence, these topics aren’t approached with subtlety. Instead, we have chapter-long exposition from RJ, Bait, Dex and others. The characters have some thought-provoking discussions, but the long bouts of dialogue kills the action whenever it starts to build.

Despite some cumbersome execution, there are enough interesting ideas in Knuckle Supper to make it worth a read. If you’re looking for an antidote to the sparkling vampires and lovey-dovey attitude of Twilight, you can’t find more of a polar opposite than Knuckle Supper.

Pairing Suggestion; Brewdog Punk IPA.

Edit; I forgot to mention the first time around that 10% of the revenue from Knuckle Supper will be donated to Children of the Night, a non profit organization for the rescue of children from child prostitution. If you’re on the fence about the book and need something to push you into the buy column, know that your money will be going to a good place.

Tags: Book Reviews, Books, drew stepek, knuckle supper, Reviews, vampires