Fatalis: A Novel

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly

Saber-tooth tigers attack Los Angeles in Rovin's gung-ho second novel of cryptozoological horror. (In the first, Vespers, Rovin imagined mutant bats tearing up New York City.) The new novel opens in classic horror style, on a Santa Barbara hillside, as something large but unseen stalks a bobcat that's in turn stalking a dog: soon there are "streams of blood, all that remained of a bobcat on its final hunt." Cut to anthropologist Jim Grand, mourning the recent demise of his beloved wife. Cut to two engineers investigating a sinkhole near that hillside; in minutes they, too, are dead, but now we see "two glowing orbs" that move "down and then away." Cut to feisty local reporter Hannah Hughes, about to investigate the engineers' disappearance; to macho sheriff Malcolm Gearhart, who's tangled before with Jim and Hannah and who can't rest easy when there's trouble on his turf--and all the elements of grade-A schlock horror are percolating away. The buildup to the expected full-tilt saber-tooth vs. human scenes is long and slowed down by soggy excursions into Native American mysticism (Grand is an expert on the ancient Chumash, whose newfound cave illustrations warn of the saber-tooths). Rovin's characters are thin but functional, and he writes zesty action sequences, making strong use of local settings, placing the final showdown at the La Brea Tar Pits. This novel offers no surprises, but, like Vespers, it reiterates horror-movie traditions with panache. The bats ace the saber-tooths by a fright or two, but fans of horror that spins on nature-gone-amok should take to this with a growl. Film rights optioned by Universal Pictures for Sylvester Stallone. (May) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.|

Kirkus Reviews

Long-extinct big cats terrorize California in this almost-thriller. Saber-toothed tigers have been on ice for 11,000 years until a modest little cataclysm near Santa Barbara catapults them from a cryogenic state back into live action. And lively they are, and strong, and voracious. Pretty soon, Californians are disappearing in alarming numbers, leaving behind puddles of blood and not much else in the way of remains. Panic mounts as it becomes increasingly clear just how much hunger (and anger) these cool cats have had a chance to amass. Forces gather hurriedly to deal with an intensifying emergency. Among these are three interested parties with sharply divergent views on what it all means and exactly what response is called for. Sheriff Malcolm Gearhart, hardheaded ex-Marine, wants the beasts wiped out, the faster the better. Deadly force is the only sensible answer when the safety and well being of the community are threatened. Jim Grand, anthropologist, knows how dangerous these predators are, but he also knows their value to science. There must be a way, he says, to preserve both the community and the animals. Hannah Hughes runs a newspaper. To her, nothing matters more than the story—until love for Jim enters the picture, at which point her view becomes a little muddied. Up in the hills above L.A., hunters chase cats, cats chase hunters, and as the drama plays out each of the principals gets some of what he or she wants and some of what he or she certainly doesn't. Rovin (Vespers, not reviewed) does all right with his action scenes; it's his people scenes that invite the occasional catnap.