December 4th, 2012 by Darin
I don’t get excited about new releases very often. My backlog of titles to read is so long and ever-lengthening that I rarely read the latest hot thing right when it comes out. It usually takes me a year or two, at least, to get around to what everyone’s reading right now. However, one book I am going to grab off the press is Mark Teppo’s latest: Earth Thirst:
“The Earth is dying. Humanity—over-breeding, over-consuming—is destroying the very planet they call home. Multinational corporations despoil the environment, market genetically modified crops to control the food supply, and use their wealth and influence and private armies to crush anything, and anyone, that gets in the way of their profits. Nothing human can stop them. But something unhuman might. Once they did not fear the sun. Once they could breathe the air and sleep where they chose. But now they can rest only within the uncontaminated soil of Mother Earth—and the time has come for them to fight back against the ruthless corporations that threaten their immortal existence.
“They are the last guardians of paradise, more than human but less than angels. They call themselves the Arcadians. We know them as vampires. . . .”
That just sounds right proper kickass. Though, of course, I hope he lets the corporate swine destroy the Earth. I love a good Whelp-there-goes-the-Earth book.
I’m also excited about this book personally because Teppo’s an old friend of mine. He and I spent our pre-published time in the trenches together, huddled alongside a few other desperate souls who’ve all gone on to steady careers in the field. Teppo’s Codex of Souls books were great occult-noir without being cheesy or simplified … which seems so often the trend for today’s vapid reading proficiencies. And then he went on to become the Chief Creative Officer behind The Mongoliad, with guys like Neal Stephenson and Greg Bear. (Yeah, Mark’s cooler than you.)
It makes me feel good about the field that a guy who works hard, dreams crazy, and doesn’t sleep can carve himself a perch. I’ve conspired with Teppo on plenty of secret projects, and I’ve never been able to keep up. (Remember this madness?!) You wanna get in on Teppo before he starts writing books in some algebraic moon-language distributed on 200 burner phones locked in dust bins and drive-thrus in Seattle, Bangladesh, and a grain elevator outside Omaha. Competition for the material will just be too stiff then.