Primordial is not your little sister's vampire book. Though it would be, if you snapped it inside out like an old Metallica t-shirt, used it to mop up a puddle of bong water, and then wrapped it around the barrel of your .9 millimeter to suppress the muzzle flash as you shoot the tires out of your neighbor's double-wide. No handsome, agonized, Victorian psycho-sexual dysfunction here, just lots of gun battles, harsh language, and breathless action. Primordial is pure intelligent pulp, determined to make you groan in sympathetic delight at the damage inflicted within its pages.