The Whitechapel Vampire

By Alex O'Connell

Horror | Paperback, Hardback


If William Shakespeare was alive today he would be writing vampire fiction. But he isn’t, so Alex O’Connell saw the gap in the market and jumped in without thinking… The incomparable crime writer Patricia Cornwell spent millions of dollars in an attempt to definitively establish the identity of the ultimate serial killer, Jack the Ripper. Alex O’Connell made this up for nothing. A serial killer is at large on the squalid streets of Victorian London. He strikes only at night, causing horrendous mutilation to his victims’ throats and leaves them drained of blood before disappearing into the shadows. There can be only one logical hypothesis – a predatory vampire is marking his territory (surprisingly there remain one or two academics who are not yet fully persuaded by this theory). Dare you join legendary Scotland Yard detective Frederick Abberline and his friend the Irish novelist Bram Stoker, abetted by the World Heavyweight Champion John L Sullivan as they hunt the diabolical fiend defecated from the very bowels of Hell, a monster known through the ages as… Jack the Ripper? The Whitechapel Vampire features interludes from genuine contemporary newspaper reports to put the story in its proper historical context, as well as extensive appendices. What’s not to love? …And it’s cheap too. ‘O’Connell’s my kinda guy. I’d fix him a Daiquiri and take him marlin fishing. I could listen to those vampire stories of his for hours… well until about 9ish. After that I get a bit tired.’ Ernest Hemingway.


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If William Shakespeare was alive today he would be writing vampire fiction. But he isn’t, so Alex O’Connell saw the gap in the market and jumped in without thinking… The incomparable crime writer Patricia Cornwell spent millions of dollars in an attempt to definitively establish the identity of the ultimate serial killer, Jack the Ripper. Alex O’Connell made this up for nothing. A serial killer is at large on the squalid streets of Victorian London. He strikes only at night, causing horrendous mutilation to his victims’ throats and leaves them drained of blood before disappearing into the shadows. There can be only one logical hypothesis – a predatory vampire is marking his territory (surprisingly there remain one or two academics who are not yet fully persuaded by this theory). ...


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In his formative years Alex O'Connell deserted from the French Foreign Legion after mistaking it for the British Legion and finding that it was far from an ideal place to find cheap beer and a quiet game of dominoes with the lads. Despite the bad memories, he still finds himself singing Le Boudin when he's drunk. He is unsure whether he would be permitted to enter Canada and uses it as an excuse for avoiding Belgium. Rumour has it that he was thrown out of the Cork affiliate of the LA street gang the Crips for being way too mean. But as O'Connell sagely says, you shouldn't always listen to rumours. To his enduring shame, in 2008 he was blackballed by the Hell's Angels after turning up for a Chapter meeting on his BMX bicycle, explaining that his Raleigh Chopper was being serviced by his friend Eddie. This is not likely to be true as Eddie denies even knowing O'Connell. Satanists and the Catholic Church are united in their condemnation of O'Connell. The Satanists have excommunicated him but this is a step too far for the Catholics who fear his reprisals. O'Connell's wife has asked for a divorce for her birthday for the last three years but he has always ended up getting her something cheaper. His children, Dubhlainn, his favourite, the other boy and the girl, Deirbhile, all claim they are adopted. Unsurprisingly, he doesn't like to talk about himself much. He is available for weddings, christenings and bar mitzvahs and works cheaply. Alex O'Connell lives in fear of vampire attacks. He believes his special O-negative blood group makes him an especially attractive target.


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In his formative years Alex O'Connell deserted from the French Foreign Legion after mistaking it for the British Legion and finding that it was far from an ideal place to find cheap beer and a quiet game of dominoes with the lads. Despite the bad memories, he still finds himself singing Le Boudin when he's drunk. He is unsure whether he would be permitted to enter Canada and uses it as an excuse f...


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