A big fan of Kim Newman's "Anno Dracula" series, I thought this book would be worth a read. It's much more of a straight horror novel than AD is, without the whimsical use of characters and real-life figures from throughout history. I didn't expect to see that, but I didn't expect the book to be quite as dark as it is either.
Newman doesn't completely abandon his tendency to use real people and events in this book -- he delves heavily into the spectre of the McCarthy anti-communism hearings and Marlon Brando and Martin Landau both make appearances of a sort, but for the most part this story is very much of his own creation. An American journalist in London finds her sister murdered and dessicated and seeks out the strange culture that led to her death.
The book is much darker, gorier and more explicit than I've come to expect from Newman, and while I don't fault him for trying something different (no writer wants to be pigeonholed, after all), it's not really my kind of book either. So it's well written, well done, just not really for me.