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Secret Santa Paperback – November 10, 2020
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Out of work for months, Lussi Meyer is desperate to work anywhere in publishing. Prestigious Blackwood-Patterson isn’t the perfect fit, but a bizarre set of circumstances leads to her hire and a firm mandate: Lussi must find the next horror superstar to compete with Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Peter Straub. It’s the ’80s, after all, and horror is the hottest genre.
But as soon as she arrives, Lussi finds herself the target of her co-workers' mean-spirited pranks. The hazing reaches its peak during the company’s annual Secret Santa gift exchange, when Lussi receives a demonic-looking object that she recognizes but doesn't understand. Suddenly, her coworkers begin falling victim to a series of horrific accidents akin to a George Romero movie, and Lussi suspects that her gift is involved. With the help of her former author, the flamboyant Fabien Nightingale, Lussi must track down her anonymous Secret Santa and figure out the true meaning of the cursed object in her possession before it destroys the company—and her soul.
- Print length216 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherQuirk Books
- Publication dateNovember 10, 2020
- Dimensions5.26 x 0.6 x 8.02 inches
- ISBN-101683692055
- ISBN-13978-1683692058
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“Shaffer writes with a keen eye for the tropes of the genre but also a sharply ironic sense of humour…provides chuckles and chills in equal measure.”—Financial Times
“Writing with a biting, dry wit, Shaffer blends old school, B-movie gore and sharp send-ups of office politics and the publishing industry. Fans of classic slasher novels will revel in this blood-soaked romp.”—Publishers Weekly
“[A] devilishly farcical ode to horror novels and publishing in general....Anyone who ventures into this snarky, dark novel will never look at a holiday gift exchange the same way again.”—Booklist
“A superbly crafted, impressively original, and inherently riveting read from cover to cover.”—Midwest Book Review
“Shaffer delivers chills and laughs — he is fundamentally a comedic writer — in a story that leads into Halloween and Christmas like a good Tim Burton film.”—The Gazette
“An offbeat nostalgia trip, a narrative steeped in 1980s pastiche and featuring a unique plot that keeps readers guessing what’s happening . . . Secret Santa is a wonderful read any time of the year, but it’s devilishly appropriate for Christmastime — or perhaps Christmas in July.”—Hollywood Soapbox
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
New York City
December 1, 1986
Lussi walked up to the front of the Blackwood Building on Avenue A. Although she’d heard the publisher’s East Village headquarters was unusual, she wasn’t prepared for it to be this unusual. The four-story brownstone was black. Solid black. At first she thought it was a paint job to make it look sleek and modern, but as she lowered her sunglasses she could see that any appearance of modernity was an illusion. The sandstone was blackened with soot and city grime, the result of decades of neglect. Even more unusual were the wrought-iron bars on the windows—not just the street-level windows, but all four stories. Was this a publishing house or a Victorian insane asylum? Needless to say, it was love at first sight.
“Move it or lose it, yuppie scum,” a geriatric bag lady said, emerging from the shadows of the alley wheeling a cart full of empty liquor bottles.
“Did you call me a yuppie?” Lussi said, clutching her Coach purse under her armpit and stepping out of the woman’s way. The name-brand purse wasn’t even hers; she’d borrowed it from her roommate. Lussi noticed more down-on-their-luck sorts across the street. So this was Tompkins Square Park. She’d read in the papers that it had been taken over by a homeless camp, which she could now see for herself. Amidst the tents and tarps, rough-looking men were huddled around burning barrels. A tall, thin man in a fedora from some bygone era was standing beyond the barrels. Through the smoke, he seemed to be studying her with intense curiosity.
Lussi turned sharply back to the building. She took a deep breath and smoothed her houndstooth print skirt. Her best stirrup pants were tucked into her polished Mary Janes. She checked her makeup in her compact. Maybe I am yuppie scum, she thought, smoothing her ponytail in its black velvet scrunchie.
She marched up the imposing stone steps and hit the buzzer.
“Name,” a voice full of static demanded.
“Lussi Meyer,” she said.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“An interview. My name sounds like ‘Lucy,’ but it’s spelled L-U-S—”
There was a whir, followed by a clank. She tried the door, but it didn’t budge.
“Wait for the rest, please,” the voice said.
Lussi stepped back as the whirring and clanking continued. She counted six locks before the iron door finally creaked open an inch. It was so heavy, she had to wedge her shoulder against it and push. It almost felt like the door was pushing back, like it didn’t want to let her in. Eventually, it gave in and swung open, sending Lussi stumbling into the cavernous lobby. She came to a stop a foot from bowling over a decorated Christmas tree. A trim receptionist, seated behind a wide desk, raised a sculpted eyebrow. Above, on the third-floor landing, an elegant woman with a fashionable bottle-blond buzz cut sipped from a highball glass, eyes on Lussi.
Lussi approached the front desk. “I have an eleven thirty with Mr. Blackwood.”
The receptionist put a hand over her headset’s mouthpiece and pointed to the stairs. “Fourth floor. Oh, and I love your purse.”
“Thank you,” she said, mounting the winding staircase strung with white Christmas lights. “I love yours . . . too . . .”
Lussi’s voice trailed off as she found herself mesmerized not by the woman’s purse—there wasn’t one on her desk—but by the interior of the building. It was all tarnished brass and chipped marble, carved wood accents and warm lighting. So different from the harsh fluorescents and bare drywall at her last job.
She paused on the third-floor landing to listen to the click-clacking chorus of typewriters from deep within the building. None of those electric gizmos, either. Heavy, manual typewriters that sounded like her mother’s. Lussi scanned the postings on a rectangular corkboard, hoping to gain some insight into the company culture. Amidst workplace safety regulations and minimum-wage posters was a handwritten memo about the company-wide Secret Santa gift exchange, scheduled for December 12. Leave your presents under the tree anytime between now and then, but remember!! It’s supposed to be anonymous, so leave YOUR name off!!
Could this place be any quainter?
The double doors at the top of the stairs opened into a waiting area staffed by a blue-haired woman older than Cthulhu. The fourth floor was even more resplendent than the entryway, if such a thing were possible. The floor-to-ceiling windows were draped with heavy red velvet curtains, which looked like they’d been stripped from a Hammer film set. The wood-paneled walls were lined with built-in bookcases. She imagined she was looking at first editions of every novel Blackwood-Patterson had published since its inception in 1947. The room smelled like dried glue and dusty paper . . . the smell of old books. The smell of happiness.
Blackwood-Patterson hadn’t been on her short list of places to work. It hadn’t even been on her long list. But this . . . this was beyond all expectations. She was going to cry if she didn’t get this job. This was as old-school publishing as you could get, a holdover from an era she’d only heard tall tales of. The skyscrapers of Midtown had nothing on the Blackwood Building. If the employees were even half as charming, this was a place she could see herself working for a long, long time.
Product details
- Publisher : Quirk Books (November 10, 2020)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 216 pages
- ISBN-10 : 1683692055
- ISBN-13 : 978-1683692058
- Item Weight : 8.8 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.26 x 0.6 x 8.02 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #983,250 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #4,343 in Holiday Fiction (Books)
- #7,468 in Humorous Fiction
- #7,494 in Fiction Satire
- Customer Reviews:
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About the author
Andrew Shaffer is the New York Times bestselling author of more than a dozen books. He lives with his wife, novelist Tiffany Reisz, in Kentucky, where he teaches at the non-profit Carnegie Center for Literacy and Learning.
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As some interesting narration at the end of the book states, genres these days are muddy to say the least. Let’s attempt to clear that up. This is fun horror: nothing particularly gruesome or profane, although there was a baby Jesus joke ( I didn’t mind the joke based off of the context ). Aside from that, this is all-out fun with tons of quirky satire and twists and turns that deliver a solid read if you are into getting some scary-ish humor in for the holidays. I think the scariest part for me had to do with an abrupt disorganization of what’s referred to as a slush pile, the stack of manuscripts in the basement, where I end up saying to myself, “Oh my god. Do they need help getting them all put back together in the right order?” Ha, ha.
“She dug her nails into her palms. Her patience had worn thin as the veil between worlds on All Hallow’s Eve. Mercurial artists. Clandestine meetings. Trigger happy receptionists. Small mammals in serious need of house training. Lunch thieves. Pranksters. The more she ran over the past week in her mind, the more she felt herself slipping into the darkness.” – Shaffer, Secret Santa, page 105
I almost complained about there not being any sort of rant ( even though I consider this style of writing a sort of a rant to begin with, but I don’t consider that a bad thing in itself ) through the book, but that was mostly redeemed by the end of the book, albeit in one very short chapter. Paragraph structures did seems slightly recycled at times and the satire was a bit distracting at the beginning almost as if forced, but as Shaffer continued the writing it seemed more natural to me. I did have lots of laugh out louds while reading. The story does feed us some fictional history behind the mysterious relic and everything fell together quite nicely in that regard.
Now, lets talk physicality of the book. This book is of a high-quality with selective glossy coating on the cover, over the title and also over the eyes of the demon in the present. The pages are very soft and easy to the touch and there is a texture image at the beginning of each chapter:
Not much intellectualism in this book, so if you are looking to learn some real-world knowledge, you won’t find it here aside from what I learned about how a pub house might operate in a sketchy situation. I have a hunch that references in the book, which there are quite a bit of, might be a far cry from the truth ( I did not attempt to fact check anything about the writing here ) which I didn’t mind at all. It’s funny stuff. I don’t really at all get the comparison to Stephen King, that might be a joke in itself to the blurby comparisons to other works right now in the industry, as hinted at in the pages that fold in on themselves with writing about writing. These references are not only in the blurb, but are also written as such in the book and I love that.
Recommendation:
As a light-horror and funny read, Shaffer delivers almost exactly what I expected with tons of retro, off-kilter satire and culture references that I think a lot of indie authors this day in age can enjoy a bit more than Joe off the street. It’s a light read and perfect for the reality-restricting year of 2020 with lovable characterizations of office staff in a less than favorable setting of sketchy office politics leading to an underlying evil and a fight for standing one’s own ground. ★★★★☆ Four stars out of five for Secret Santa by Andrew Shaffer.
Guys, until next time – may you find all the happiness that your life can fit in it’s happy spot – S.D. McKinley.
Reviewed in the United States on December 13, 2020
As some interesting narration at the end of the book states, genres these days are muddy to say the least. Let’s attempt to clear that up. This is fun horror: nothing particularly gruesome or profane, although there was a baby Jesus joke ( I didn’t mind the joke based off of the context ). Aside from that, this is all-out fun with tons of quirky satire and twists and turns that deliver a solid read if you are into getting some scary-ish humor in for the holidays. I think the scariest part for me had to do with an abrupt disorganization of what’s referred to as a slush pile, the stack of manuscripts in the basement, where I end up saying to myself, “Oh my god. Do they need help getting them all put back together in the right order?” Ha, ha.
“She dug her nails into her palms. Her patience had worn thin as the veil between worlds on All Hallow’s Eve. Mercurial artists. Clandestine meetings. Trigger happy receptionists. Small mammals in serious need of house training. Lunch thieves. Pranksters. The more she ran over the past week in her mind, the more she felt herself slipping into the darkness.” – Shaffer, Secret Santa, page 105
I almost complained about there not being any sort of rant ( even though I consider this style of writing a sort of a rant to begin with, but I don’t consider that a bad thing in itself ) through the book, but that was mostly redeemed by the end of the book, albeit in one very short chapter. Paragraph structures did seems slightly recycled at times and the satire was a bit distracting at the beginning almost as if forced, but as Shaffer continued the writing it seemed more natural to me. I did have lots of laugh out louds while reading. The story does feed us some fictional history behind the mysterious relic and everything fell together quite nicely in that regard.
Now, lets talk physicality of the book. This book is of a high-quality with selective glossy coating on the cover, over the title and also over the eyes of the demon in the present. The pages are very soft and easy to the touch and there is a texture image at the beginning of each chapter:
Not much intellectualism in this book, so if you are looking to learn some real-world knowledge, you won’t find it here aside from what I learned about how a pub house might operate in a sketchy situation. I have a hunch that references in the book, which there are quite a bit of, might be a far cry from the truth ( I did not attempt to fact check anything about the writing here ) which I didn’t mind at all. It’s funny stuff. I don’t really at all get the comparison to Stephen King, that might be a joke in itself to the blurby comparisons to other works right now in the industry, as hinted at in the pages that fold in on themselves with writing about writing. These references are not only in the blurb, but are also written as such in the book and I love that.
Recommendation:
As a light-horror and funny read, Shaffer delivers almost exactly what I expected with tons of retro, off-kilter satire and culture references that I think a lot of indie authors this day in age can enjoy a bit more than Joe off the street. It’s a light read and perfect for the reality-restricting year of 2020 with lovable characterizations of office staff in a less than favorable setting of sketchy office politics leading to an underlying evil and a fight for standing one’s own ground. ★★★★☆ Four stars out of five for Secret Santa by Andrew Shaffer.
Guys, until next time – may you find all the happiness that your life can fit in it’s happy spot – S.D. McKinley.
Secret Santa was a quick and fun Christmas horror read. I loved how the author incorporated German folklore, specifically Perchten into the story. Most people are probably more familiar with Krampus when it comes to German/Austrian Christmas folklore, but Perchten are the servants of the goddess Perchta in Alpine Paganism. Perchten are known for driving away bad spirits and you see a little bit of this, of course with a twist, in the book.
Other things I loved about this book was the fact that it took place at a publishing house. As an avid reader the publishing world fascinates me and I loved all the nods to other famous horror authors. Horror is not dead and will never be dead! There were also a lot of fun, yet, gruesome scenes in the book. One of the characters snorting his dead father’s ashes is just one mental image I’ll never be able to get out of my head.
However, the supporting characters were underdeveloped and I think the story would have benefitted with more defined characters. A lot of them had potential and I definitely wanted to see more of the supporting characters. Overall, Secret Santa is a fun horror story I would recommend for those looking to get in the holiday mood. I also absolutely loved the ending and I would have made the exact same choices as Lussi did.
I loved this tale of a plucky young editor, a demonic doll and a weird publishing house set in the 1980s. Lots of humor, an interesting plot, good characters and a little bit of horror.
Great fun!
I was delightfully surprised at how well the book captures still-gritty mid-80's New York. Secret Santa doesn't bathe in nostalgia, but instead uses that backdrop to lend a slightly unsettling air to the grisly horror set within the walls of a storied publishing house.
Lussi is a strong and realized protagonist struggling against foes both in the elitist publishing world and the supernatural. She is joined by a cast of co-workers and bosses that make the world feel alive and unique.
Secret Santa is not just a horror novel, it has Andrew Shaffer's well-timed brand of humor keeping the proceedings fun while the bodies (and manuscripts) pile up.
The book avoids cheap scares and skips many unpleasant tropes that have plagued horror. It has it's share of gore and violence but isn't tawdry or offensive. It is refreshing to read adult horror that doesn't require a trigger warning in reviews. While I say it is adult horror, I feel it can be enjoyed by anyone that has seen an 80's horror movie.
Overall, Secret Santa is the perfect book to give away to a friend at your next office Christmas party.
Just don't go down to the basement alone.
Top reviews from other countries
And this book is simply amazing like r.l.stine and Christopher pike