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Written by Leslie Muir
Illustrated by Jen Corace
Atheneum, 2011
$15.99, ages 4-8, 40 pages
When a little vampire wiggles out his baby fangs and sees the tips of big ones coming in, he flaps his wings in glee. Now, at last, he can bite something.
And not just anything. Gibbus Moony wants to sink his teeth into a nice juicy neck. The problem is, necks aren't what Moonys bite -- unless they're those of pears.
"We're fruit suckers, my boy," corrects Grandpa Waxing Mooney, a Wilfred Brimley-like fellow in an argyle-print sweater. "and proud of it."
That means, according to his prim-dressed Dad, Moonys are nectarians. "Not to be confused with those other vampire relatives," he adds, referring to portraits of caped bloodletters on the wall.
But as Gibbus flaps around in his cape, he hears only what he wants to hear, and adds a "k" to "nec" in nectarian. "I'm a necktarian!" he cries, dashing off to find his first victim.
Mom, all dolled up with an up-do and red lipstick, suggests Gibbus swing from the rafters like a good little vampire. But Gibbus is a big boy now and he's got his eye on his stuffed gargoyle Werner.
Jumping into his toy box, Gibbus pounces on Werner and begins to gnaw away at his stitched neck. "Stop chewing on your toys," Mom interrupts in a frantic tone, just as Werner has grown soggy.
Like a puppy with an insatiable need to chew, Gibbus bites into the first things he sees. He chomps into the family album, even goes after the family's Stradivarius, as strings pop off and curl.
However, none of those things satisfy Gibbus's longing. What he really wants is to tip-toe up on something that's alive and attack it. Then he sees Grandpa snoozing on the lounger.