The title does not refer to evening prayer. A vesper is a vespertilionid – a common bat breed. However, there is nothing common about the creatures in this novel. They are frightening. Not Halloween scary; not startling, but ferocious, fearsome killers.

The novel opens with a poignantly described human recreation event. There is a rapid gamut of elation...hope...despair. Shortly life resumes as before except that small, normally silent beasts are aloft. As terror increases, the reader is treated to a narrative about bat behavior. The author skillfully blends science into a quasi-empathic description. He does not anthropromorphize the bats. They remain creatures governed by instinctual behavior, but the reader is able to sense that motivation.

As uncharacteristic attacks spread from suburbia to his city, NYC Detective Robert Gentry notices. His curiosity grows rapidly into full-scale personal and professional involvement. Such caring is very unique for the wounded Gentry. His earlier undercover work has exacted a severe toll, and while he is psychologically competent, his life contains little enjoyment. A growing anhedonia is enveloping him.

Dr. Nancy Joyce has matured, but she has never outgrown her childhood fascination with predators of the night. She is a leader in her field, but the impetus for her rapid rise into male-dominated zoology has left her feeling guilty and angry. The "bat lady" has withdrawn into herself and the comforting past of her Grandma Joycewicz' ancient Bronx apartment.

Sparks fly between the male cop and the suspicious doc. As the story descends from suburbia to city to NYC's subterranean community, the sparks become embers. The two become intellectual colleagues and jointly arrive at an answer to the bizarre bat behavior that is plaguing New York. Their hypothesis is so unsettling that the bureaucracy would prefer to believe in the existence of a cannibalistic, serial killer. The blood, gore, and terror are significant. Most readers will not have bad dreams, but the vivid descriptions of carnage are not pleasant.

This book has a lot to offer. The characters are not stereotypes: the cop doesn't hate all criminals; the doc is not a tree-hugging, animal rights activist. Clearly the author – via his characters – respects nature and deplores environmental pillage, but the book is carried by its story, not its principles. The two lead characters are lonely, but far from emotionally crippled. Their association is not a romp, but an evolving relationship. Besides all that, the reader learns a lot about bats.

--Steve Nemmers