I just wasted three days reading KITTY AND THE MIDNIGHT HOUR, pretty much one of the lamest, stupidest books I have ever read in my life. I normally wouldn’t, of my own volition, pay to read book like this, but since someone was nice enough to send it to me, I thought I’d give it a try.

I wanted to like it – it’s horror, with werewolves and vampires. It’s set in Denver and name-checks plenty of places I’m familiar with. And like me, its main character, Kitty Norville, works for a public radio station. Too bad it’s written by, I think, a 14-year-old Hot Topic wannabe girl who’s read one too many Poppy Z. Brite novels. It’s at that level.

You see, Kitty is a werewolf – albeit a spunky, hipster, late-night DJ werewolf – who happens to set the talk-radio world afire with her Art Bell-style show, “The Midnight Hour.” In between broadcasts, she has to deal with Carl, the leader of her werewolf pack who casually rapes Kitty as a form of discipline; Arturo, head of the Denver vampire family; and – ahem – Cormac, the local vampire hunter.

Somehow, a killer rogue werewolf figures into the plot, but at the halfway point, I started skimming more and more just to finish the damn thing. Horribly written, uninvolving and just damned stupid. There’s no other way to put it. In the end, there’s a preview chapter of the upcoming sequel, KITTY GOES TO WASHINGTON. No, thanks.