The Serial Killers Club, Jeff Povey

The name of this book drew me to it; sounds fun, right?

Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., or Dougie as the Club calls him, is a fraud, a nobody who inadvertently kills the man who attacks him. Assuming he should discover who the man is, he grabs the dead man's ID and does some searching. Come to find out, the dead man is a serial who goes by the handle, Grandson of Barney, GOB for short.

Following a roundabout way, GOB ends up in Chicago at a diner where a group of serial killers who use movie star names as their cover meets regularly. GOB takes on the identity of Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.

Four years into his fraud, Dougie is the club's secretary when a knock at his door reveals an FBI agent who insists that Dougie kill all the club members so that he can walk a free man. Dougie agrees, and his killing spree begins, killing the likes of Cher, James Holden, Burt Lancaster, and so on.

While the Serial Killers Club had all the makings of a fun, albeit dark, comedy, it was just plain ridiculous. Toward the end of the book, I was line skipping to finish it quicker; I don't think I missed anything.

I'm generally not a hater of books, and I can't say I hate this book; it was edited well, and as I mentioned, the plot could have been well-played; it just wasn't.

There is a seat for every bottom and a book for every reader. This one is not mine, but it might be yours.