What the heck is it about vampires? When did they turn from Nosferatu—skinny bodies, no hair, long, weird fingers, to—you know.
From the fanfiction that’s now a BDSM billion dollar franchise to the original, vamps just…well, they got it. The intangible “it.”
I’ve been thinking a lot about vampires, and I’m definitely in the camp that loves them, but I’m not satisfied with the intangible.
This is what I decided—I think the vampire is the original bad boy of the supernatural world. So I broke it down, scientific-like, and did a side-by-side comparison. First off, I asked, “What makes a bad boy?” and then I asked, “What makes a vampire?”
And this is what it came down to:
- motorcycles
- fashion (good hair, ripped jeans, leather jackets, guy-liner)
- quotes poets or post-modernist writers
- plays a musical instrument
- will get into a fight over a girl (I know…this shouldn’t be a thing, but don’t tell me this doesn’t get you all twitterpated).
Now, we all know a bad boy is irresistible, so, using math (see what I’m doing here? I’m using math AND science like a boss) we can solve for X.
So if X equals a bad boy… then…
A+B+C+D+E= X
It doesn’t work in both directions. A bad boy doesn’t have to be a vamp, but a vamp has to be a bad boy. Please note, I’m ignoring bloodlust and other murdery vampire traits, immortality, and sun allergies.
Vampire bad boys—they’re the ultimate. In keeping with the vampire theme (it’s all been leading here…) I have a paranormal romance with a reverse harem twist releasing November 9th!
It’s the story of four vampires who fall in love with the same girl. And trust me, these are some bad boys.
Men. But Bad Men sounds weird, doesn’t it?
Bad guys? No, because then they’re evil.
We’ll stick with bad boys.
Anyway, here, just for you, is a sneak peek of Briar, the first book in the series Midnight’s Crown.
A crash sounded from the hallway, and as one, Vali and Marcus spun, crouching low.
“Back up.” Vali threw a glance over his shoulder before his focus went back to the doorway.
The crawlers. Briar remembered the creature’s long fingers wrapping around her leg, and its weight as it pulled itself eye-level to her. Vali growled, the sound more animal than human, and the fine hairs on the back of Briar’s neck lifted.
Something was wrong here. Neither Vali nor Marcus looked at Briar again, but she got the sense they were wholly focused on her.
As she backed up like Vali asked, their bodies shifted minutely. The cacophony of noise from the hall suddenly stopped, before erupting into something louder and more frightening. It was as if lions fought for dominance right outside her room.
Roars shook the walls. Briar jumped and rammed into the furniture. One of the framed photos from her bureau shattered on the floor, sending glass flying in all directions.
Like a flash, Vali suddenly jumped into the air to catch the dark form flying toward her. The two figures landed with a crash so hard Briar expected to see an impact crater in the floor.
One of the forms shook free of the other, pinning Briar with a blue-eyed stare that froze her in place.
Hudson.
At least, it was a creature who wore Hudson’s face and body. It twisted Hudson’s features. The handsome, distant man replaced with a slavering, wild-eyed beast.
“Hudson?” Her voice shook, and the beast smiled to reveal four curved fangs along the top of his mouth. They dug into his lower lip, splitting the skin to ooze blood he then licked away.
A flash of brown leapt between her and Hudson. Marcus. Knees bent, he shifted like a soccer player guarding the goal.
Which was her.
Hudson feinted left and then right, but each time Marcus stood between them. Nearby, Vali shook off what must have been a massive body check and rushed to stand next to Marcus.
Something slammed into the door, and Sylvain appeared.
Oh God.
Sylvain’s features were a mirror of Hudson’s. Fangs. Sharp teeth. Wild eyes. It wasn’t the sunlight that was going to be her end; it was these men. Hands clenching into fists, muscles bunching, Sylvain blurred.
Briar’s brain wasn’t fast enough to keep up with the action. One second Hudson appeared in front of her, straight backed and grinning, and the next, he disappeared, swept away in Sylvain’s massive arms, only to reappear at her side. Each time he came close, one of the other guys stood in his way. They didn’t fight, like she expected, but blocked.
They were trying to protect her, but they were also protecting Hudson.
What had she done to cause this? How could she go from conversing casually with the man to becoming his prey?
“What do I do?” she asked no one in particular. Was she supposed to stand here, frozen like a deer in headlights?
Hudson crashed into Marcus, spun away, and then crashed into Vali. Sylvain stayed at his back, arms outstretched to catch him should he try to double back or come at Briar from another angle.
“What do I do?” she asked, but no one answered her.
Hudson was tireless. He went at the guys, biting, tearing. Their clothes shredded beneath Hudson’s fingers. Blood ran down their faces, and dripped onto the carpet.
They hurt. Sylvain favored one side, and Vali’s arm hung at an unnatural angle.
At a loss, she called out, “Hudson, stop!”
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