Dark Banquet: Blood and the Curious Lives of Blood Feeding Creatures: Autographed by the author Bill Schutt

From Publishers Weekly In this salmagundi of abstruse science, informative history and engaging personal anecdotes, Schutt's fascination for sanguivores goes a long way toward disarming, while defining, our primal fear of creatures that feed on blood. For all their fearsome reputation, only three of 1,100 bat species savor blood, and one of those preys exclusively on chickens. The author doesn't make sanguivores entirely cuddly: part two opens with the horrifying theory that George Washington was likely bled to death by ill-informed doctors and eager leeches, and includes an account of the first dog-to-dog transfusion in 1666 (the first successful human transfusion was in 1901). In part three, Schutt surveys other blood feeders: leeches currently making a comeback in modern medicine, pesky bedbugs and chiggers, and potentially lethal mosquitoes and ticks. One oddity (and typically fascinating tidbit) in the sanguivore world is the vampire finch of the Galapagos, which Schutt theorizes is evolving before scientists' eyes, turning to blood-sipping when other nourishment is in short supply. Passages that focus on the science can be a slog, but are quickly alleviated by sections that are witty and illuminating. (Oct.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to the Hardcover edition. From The Washington Post From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com There are real vampires in the world. But they weigh an ounce and a half or less. "Feeding on blood is a tough way to make a living," says bat expert Farouk Muradali. If the strapping vampire hunk in Stephenie Meyer's bestselling Twilight series were a bat, he'd have to drink half his weight in blood every night or starve to death. Bill Schutt's Dark Banquet profiles some of the animal kingdom's dedicated bloodsuckers, from vampire bats and the dreaded candiru catfish to the not-so-dreaded vampire finch. A bat specialist at Long Island University and an associate at the American Museum of Natural History, Schutt is an engaging writer. He explains that all carnivores are occasional blood-feeders (just think about your last T-bone). Blood is a convenient food, rich in nutrients and protein, and as long as there are vertebrates, there will never be a blood shortage. Over tens of thousands of years, some carnivores became sanguivores, specialists who eat only blood. Among them are vampire bats, candirus, leeches, ticks and bed bugs, and Schutt devotes sections to each group. Real vampires may be small, but they're scary. In fact, their size is part of the problem: They're very hard to see, and they're very good at hiding. Fortunately, few sanguivores habitually drink human blood (bed bugs are an exception), but all will take a sip if they get a chance. They can't turn us into vampires, but they can kill us all the same: Their cross-species blood diet makes them very effective vectors for some of the worst diseases known to man, including malaria and bubonic plague. Still, they're not just villains. Blood anticoagulants from leeches and vampire bats are used in hospitals to reattach limbs and to treat strokes. Leeches have even been patented as a medical device. Schutt packs the book full of such curious factoids, but his narrative is fitful. Although he cheerily breezes through grisly descriptions of the creatures' lives and feeding habits, his prose gets bogged down in detail, particularly on bats. And when explaining evolution, he becomes overly defensive. He's on surer footing when telling a story, like the medical history of bloodletting. (George Washington's attending physicians drained 80 ounces of his blood before he died.) Though more for biology lovers than for "Buffy" fans, Dark Banquet has just enough of the macabre to justify its holiday tie-in. And for any method actor preparing to put on Dracula's cape for Halloween, reading it is an excellent way to get in character. Copyright 2008, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.