In the barren dust of the far future, the sun leaks energy in a darkening sky and the only remaining humans are imprisoned by spectral, bloodthirsty beings. Back in the brilliant Utah sunlight of 1999, two ancient graves yield evidence that a species of human coexisted with the dinosaurs . . . Linking these scenarios is impetuous inventor Joe Bodenland, who has just created a machine that manipulates time to dispose of hazardous waste . . .
. . . the story is (also) a Roger Corman romp. I suggested the idea to him when he dined with Margaret and me on Boars Hill. Later, in Florida, Roger told me he could not film the book: it was too expensive. In the mind, of course, no expense is spared. Among the many liberties taken with reality is this: that Bram Stoker, instead of living in Chelsea, is represented as owning our house. It and the grounds are accurately depicted in the story. Plus the vampires of course . . .
FIRST EDITION: Harper Collins, 1991