It used to be that the undead were known for their appetite. Now it’s their 
abs. The gaunt, pale, nocturnes of yore have bitten the dust. Today, our vampires come trimmed and tanned, sporting six packs and swarthy good looks. These wusses aren’t real monsters. But when your target audience is a bunch of gooey romance readers, they don’t have to be.
So I’m minding my business, perusing some end-of-the-year lists, and the Best of 2009 Paranormal Fantasy sounds right up my alley. Shapeshifters, warlocks, and telekinetic dwarfs. My mind is racing with anticipation. However, I’m aghast when I open the page and find, what looks like, Harlequin romance novels. I do a double-take. Paranormal Fantasy? Yup. Only this looks like an ad for Chippendale’s or Victoria’s Secret. Who the hell hijacked my monsters?
Romance fiction was the largest share of the consumer market in 2008 at 13.5 percent and sales for 2009 were estimated at $1.36 billion. And just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, Paranormal Romance has become one of the fastest growing genres on the market. It’s bad enough that our boys are being feminized. Must our werewolves also be neutered?
The genre has spawned a mutant child. Forget the claws and fangs and winged appendages. Rippling thighs are what these readers crave. Take this excerpt from DREAM STALKER wherein our heroine is rescued by a shapeshifter:
Her eyes snapped open. “What are you?”
He withdrew his hand. With it went the comfort she had gained from his touch. He clenched his fists, flexing the bulky muscles of his chest. The 
rock hard wall of muscle served as silent reminder of his physical superiority, and she forced herself not to cower as he stood menacingly over her like a raised dagger. She lifted her chin with an air of defiance that did not reach her quaking innards. He stalked away.
Michaela glanced about the unfamiliar surroundings more afraid of being alone than facing this brooding man. “Don’t go.”
He paused, his back to her and his posture rigid. Standing there in the forest’s dappled light, he looked completely uncivilized. Gradually, he turned until she could see his face in profile.
“You don’t know what you ask.”
It’s one thing to endure Dracula’s psychic persuasion. But who can resist a “rock hard wall of muscle”? Who needs waterboarding when you can hire a shapeshifter to flex “the bulky muscles of his chest” and seduce one into compliance. I must admit, sampling this supernaturally steamy tale has also left me with “quaking innards.” Hopefully, I can make it to the bathroom on time.
Okay, so it’s way more romance than paranormal. Either way, it seems sacrilegious. Spacemen, gill-men, mummies and medusas — these were the stuff of my youth. Sorry, but werewolf strippers just don’t have the same bite. Go ahead and call it “romance.” But please, please, don’t call it “paranormal.” Oh well, so some like their monsters ripped. Me? I prefer my vampires without lipstick.
Mike said:
"It’s bad enough that our boys are being feminized. Must our werewolves also be neutered?"
Thanks Mike – that will get me through a grey and blah Monday! These books are certainly overrunning my local B&N.
"Forget the claws and fangs and winged appendages. Rippling thighs are what these readers crave." keep the chicks out of my genre! Kudos, Grasshopper.
"Gooey romance readers" and so many other wonderful quotes. I'm still laughing out loud! Gotcha, Mike. Romance is in the air. (Fouled as it may be: Ha!)