Book of Shadows (1980, Marc Olden)

 If you've ever wished that Jackie Collins had been commissioned to write a sequel to The Wicker Man, then you need The Book of Shadows in your life. A druid husband and wife team - Rupert and Rowena Comfort - show up in New York on a mission to terrorise the beautiful people. Those in the druid sights include Marisa...a famous soap opera actress, Robert...her insufferable unsuccessful novelist lover, Marisa's friend Nathan Shields...an aging bi-sexual antiques dealer, his wife Ellie, and his Jewish toy boy Larry, who is 'living on Valium and Preparation H'. All were marked for death following an ill-fated English canal journey from Oxford to Manchester, during which the five New Yorkers discovered a hidden druid village and cheated the locals out of a priceless book of shadows. Fearing the book can give away the location of the village -a closely guarded secret since the days of Matthew Hopkins- the druids send the Comforts to the Big Apple in order to retrieve the book and dispatch the transgressors. One of whom is destined to go up Sergeant Howie style. Before that however the druid twosome cross paths with a Puerto Rican street gang who are prowling central park looking to beat up homosexuals, only to end up taking their frustrations out on an Oak tree. This angers the Druids, who in order to average the Oak tree decapitate one of the Puerto Ricans, before -to misquote Tony Orlando- tying the Puerto Rican's intestines round the old Oak tree.

After that ultra violent opening, The Book of Shadows becomes a fawn-o-thon over New York's rich, famous and fabulous...darling! It's a VIP invite to a world of Madison Avenue shopping sprees, drinking cognac out of three hundred year old teacups and an apartment so luxurious 'Marisa had always described as an experience second only to sex'. The Book of Shadows isn't afraid to wallow in street level sleaze either. Venturing into Cruising territory with a subplot about a transvestite police informant, anonymous gay sex in central park and the revelation that not even NYC's gay scene is immune from penetration by the druids. For an author who gives the outward impression of not being enamored by the gay community, Marc Olden sure could write like a right old bitch at times..."a little nip and tuck in Brazil and she could pass for Marie Osmond , or a polished apple"... "If sex was the only thing he and Marisa had going, maybe Marisa would be better off with a vibrator"... "He had more ass than Hollywood had teeth, and anyone who bit him had better bite hard". Belying the fact that Olden was himself an African-American, The Book of Shadows is also chock full of derogatory put downs of African-Americans and Puerto Ricans, instead opting to champion Armenians. The hero, Joseph Bess, being a hard working detective sargent who is brimming with Armenian pride "there's four million of us scattered throughout the world and nobody knows we once had our own country, Jesus don't get me started".

the cover illusion's depiction of Rupert Comfort and its non-too subtle resemblance to George Peppard  

Bess' ethnicity and tough guy personality gives you a mental image of him resembling Armenian-American actor Mike 'Mannix' Connors. While David Jarvis' artwork of the 1980 edition of the book makes Rupert Comfort look so much like George Peppard that Peppard could easily have sued. Though personally I tend to imagine the dedicated, grey haired, machete weilding Comfort as a blue blooded, British version of Blood Feast's Mal Arnold.

Spanning showbiz bitchfest, occult horror, cop thriller and English canal journey travelogue, against all odds Olden manages to pull off this multi-genred mating. Olden is best remembered for his kung-fu/blaxploitation 'Black Samurai' books, which I've struggled to get into, but The Book of Shadows has proven to be an absolute blast.