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From a Bram Stoker Award winner, the first tale of the ancient Carpathian vampire, set in the Paris of King Louis XV . . . Le Comte de Saint‑Germain appears to be a wealthy, worldly aristocrat, envied and desired by many but fully known to none. In fact, he is a vampire, born in the Carpathian Mountains in 2119 BCE, turned in his late thirties, and destined to roam the world forever, watching and participating in history. In Hôtel Transylvania, this charismatic hero makes his first appearance in the long-running series as he battles against Satanists to preserve the young Madelaine de Montalia from ruin. It's a richly atmospheric tale of dark fantasy and gothic suspense from the first woman to be named a "Living Legend" by the International Horror Guild, an author who uses "her vampire hero as a lens to focus on the best and worst of human behavior throughout history" (Publishers Weekly).… (more)
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The misunderstood Saint-Germaine is too perfectly urbane, witty, and smug.
Sebastien the Satanist is simply too hissably evil for belief. The malignant drivel that passed for dialogue which spewed from his mouth made my eyes roll at an
Madeleine, for the era when the story takes place, begins as a relatively strong female character but that falls by the wayside come the denouement.
The rest of the characters are boringly rendered caricatures. Gervaise was especially irritating given his nonsensical behavior.
Needless to say, I won't be continuing the series.
The first novel - and the sequels are actually more a series of stand-alone stories, I think, so there was really no need to hunt down the titles in order - is set in eighteenth century Paris, which also piqued my interest. Saint-Germain buys a hotel in the city and converts the building into a sort of pleasure palace, but his real motive lies in the ancient chapels and tunnels below. He also meets Madeleine, the beautiful and spirited daughter of a man who was once involved with a devil-worshipping cult of ridiculous noblemen, lead by Saint-Sebastien. As with Dracula and Lucy Westenra in Stoker's novel, Saint-Germain is drawn to Madeleine, only their union is slightly more consensual. The two Saints - the similar names can get very confusing - do battle for possession of Madeleine's body and soul, while the heroine is relegated to a Victorian damsel in distress. I don't normally complain about passive women in historical fiction, but Madeleine is fairly hopeless, I must confess.
For all the laughable melodrama of the villain and the climax, I did enjoy the formal language and beautiful descriptions of dress and decor. Saint-Germain might prefer basic black, but the other men strut their stuff in jewelled pastel silks like foppish peacocks, and Miss Yarbro does not neglect a single ensemble when painting a picture for the reader. I shall definitely hunt down more of these novels, when I am in a more suitable mood to enjoy the theme.
Noted during my 1980's attempt to read every book in my small town library.