Alright, I'll admit it. I have a problem with vampire novels. But, Mrs. B., it's not what you think.
Sure, they're murderous blood-sucking leaches, mere quivering heartbeats away from ripping out a hero (or heroine's) throat, even if they are meant to be protagonists. Sure, they seem civilized for cold, dead corpses, but look, they're gonna eat you, just a matter of time. Sure, there's some ke-ray-zee themes from love, lust, companionship, mortality, immortality, and viral outbreak theories (and I'm not even touching zombies for the moment). Sure there are a helluva lot of books out there right now where they are ancillary to full on main characters and have little teenieboppers running screaming about which "team" they're on.
Sure. Fine.
Whatever.
But, it's not even the trend in novels so much that bothers me. I love new takes on old monsters. I really really, really, really loved Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. And World War Z (Okay, so maybe I will say a word or two about zombies). Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. Any of Mercedes Lackey's series. I've got shelves full of these things.
What bothers me is the covers. Specifically, the covers that portray the vampires themselves in full -- pardon the pun -- living color. Usually, this is a romance novel thing, I know, but... here me out.
See, there's always a picture of some good looking guy or gal with a "dead sexy" pout. Or scowl. Maybe they're meant to look dangerous. Or brooding. You know what I'm talking about. I swear, it looks like they're trying to hold ill-fitting fangs in. I mean, come on, who's afraid of a monster that smiles and their teeth just fall out.
Not me.
Who finds someone sexy when they have to chase the tooth-caps across the floor?
Pardon me, Ma'am, but before I can nibble on your neck, I need to grab the tooth that went rolling under your bed. I'll be right back.
Is this why Dracula is always portrayed with a weird lispy accent? Because those chompers weren't his?
A little food for thought.
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