This was another book I picked up again, because nostalgia is what's getting us all through COVID, apparently. I read this as far back as late middle school, enticed by the fact that I did (and still do) love werewolves, and this was a concept no one has yet explored: What happens if a wolf is bitten by a werewolf? The author, Peter David, seems better known for his work on The Incredible Hulk for Marvel Comics, and this book seems to only have one edition ever published. Somehow, in spite of its obscurity, I managed to get a copy with very little wear and tear.
As you can imagine, a lot of the book flew over my head as a kid. Not unlike the 80s aspect of Donnie Darko--another teen favorite of mine--I had no basis for anything referring to the decade just before my birth, though I'm technically only two years younger than this book. The 80s aren't too essential to the novel, but something about it does have that vibe. I think it might be the humor, which is fine and yet somehow a little bland. For example, the wolf-to-man protagonist, Josh, makes a comment about animals "training" humans and how humans have deluded themselves into believing it's the other way around. This joke is so cliched it's actually painful, but perhaps it wasn't that old in 1989. The funniest bit is the vampire getting his ass shot off by an old lady while trying to hypnotize one of the protags from their window, but even then the final line from said lady that ends the chapter--"Goddamn vampires think they run the whole city"--seems in its comedic timing and irony stolen from the final line of 1987's The Lost Boys, something I wouldn't have noticed as a kid. (I didn't see The Lost Boys until about two years ago in spite of being a horror aficionado. So sue me.) The humor just reminds me of 80s-90s Garfield comics with more of an R-rating; it's fine and technically funny, but not actual laughter funny, and it also just smells faintly of its time, though not too much. It definitely at least aged better than quite a lot of 80s humor.
I also don't quite know what to make of the deuteragonist, Darlene Abramowitz--an animal rights activist and New Yorker who recognizes Josh by his unique eyes (in addition to being the person who names him) and takes him in. For one thing, even when I was young she felt weirdly...off the wall. The not-Peter David character who is interviewing Josh as the frame for the rest of the novel describes her early on as "hyper," which I think connoted something a little different in 1989. By my time, it meant less of what I think it means here--high-strung--and more something like an ADHD symptom. As a result, Darlene is a little less...hysterical than I remember her being, and the narrative at least lampshades her excitability. Yet something about Darlene is off, though it's not the most egregious example of a male author not knowing how to write women that I've ever seen, not by a longshot. Still, her priorities are weird; even taking into account that Josh's human form is ripped and probably leaking pheromones at all times, all she can think about is boning him and keeping him around, which is primarily used for laughs. Her interactions with coworkers/friends revolve around thinking of him as man-trouble rather than a literal fucking werewolf who needs to go back home to the Canadian wilderness. She's enchanted with him until the one full moon cycle he's gone "overly human" and just wants to drink beer all night instead of have amazing sex with her. This also seems par for the course with this decade of writing: if it's a woman involved, it can't not be about the dick and how hard it is to find a good one for long. Bechdel is grimacing.
Speaking of the story's frame of having not-Peter David interview Josh--at times this works okay. At others it feels superfluous. I don't know if it was specifically informed by Anne Rice's Interview with a Vampire and that's the idea, but sometimes Josh's dialog from the interview interrupts the narrative and makes it redundant in a way. At least, this decision I thought was rather shaky, though not deal breaking. It also makes things weird given some of what the narrative written by not-Peter David describes, mostly the sexual aspects. Darlene is mentioned early on as the friend of not-Peter who refers him to Josh. In-universe, what is it like then for Darlene to read whole sections of her talking about her romantic woes, giving in to fucking the hot man-wolf, and also that one aforementioned bit where the vampire Duncan hypnotizes her and the narrative places plenty of emphasis on her tits and how they move? Does Darlene at some point approach the friend she helped out with his writer's block by giving him this story and go "Hey, what the fuck?"
In the end, I don't remember this book being incredibly funny or unique outside its basic premise as a kid anyway, but I do remember it being entertaining, which I can say it still mostly is. I think it may be that the jokes that happen feel like the most obvious jokes you could make based on the set-up, and likewise the narrative meets the beats you would expect. It's the equivalent of watching a by-the-numbers comedy, but in a way where that is a positive rather than a negative--what you ordered from the menu as stated rather than something confusingly avant garde. It's a wee bit of fun.