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An intriguing premises and entertaining colloquial prose, but I got tired of the convoluted fantasy of the dead bluesman. The memory of Robert Johnson was defiled rather than exhausted. And giving the sacred guitar to Elvis, who couldn't play for sheet and has nothing to do with the blues... it just didn't work for me. Stevie Ray, ok, but EP..? And that scene with Leadbelly chasing Robt and Fuzzy with a shotgun... I have too much respect for the old masters to buy into that kind of fantasy. Well crafted as a horror/fantasy, but I come away lukewarm on the story.