He doesn’t LIVE in the shadows … he’s MADE of shadows.
Browing the Romance section of any bookstore—brick and mortar or digital—feels a lot like walking into Baskin Robbins. 31 flavors of subgenres, all falling under the general umbrella of a category in which fantasy is the name of the game. The signature ingredients of each flavor are the same—a hero and a heroine (or whatever gender combination appeals), a conflict or an obstacle, an unbearable attraction, a first kiss, a first joining, a separation, a grand gesture or declaration, a Happily Ever After. The milk, the sugar, the cream … at it’s core, Romance contains these ingredients which result in a treat that never stops titillating the senses, never stops melting in your mouth. As a group, Romance readers know what they like. When they walk into that metaphorical Baskin Robbins, they go for the flavors that appeal to them. Some stick to vanilla—classic, rich, slightly decadent. Others chase variety, the thrill of choosing chocolate on one visit, rainbow sherbet on the next, and mint chocolate chip after that.
And then, there’s the adventurous Romance reader. The one who had her first taste of vanilla at a young enough age that time and experience have made her crave something different. Something … singular. Black cherry bourbon ripple. Salted dark chocolate with a chili swirl. Smoked vanilla with a whiskey caramel drizzle. Such a reader knows that it isn’t the plots or the themes or the settings of their chosen stories that appeal to their senses. It’s the heroes. Or, the antiheroes. The villains.
You know the type. Obsessive. Possessive. Powerful. Slightly unhinged. There’s a fire roaring in his belly, a cadence of bloodlust driving every heartbeat, a tension so taut and delicious that you hold your breath waiting for the snap.Subscribed
Picture him in the shadows, blood on his knuckles, a secret in his eyes—and a vow on his lips: ‘I’d burn the world for you.’
My early forays into the genre of romance began with old school historical romances—bodice rippers, we affectionately call them. To say that the makeup of the typical bodice ripper hero made a lasting impression on my tastes would be an understatement. Even as times changed and the genre shifted away from alpha male heroes and blurred lines of consent, I found myself drawn time and time again to the morally gray hero. The hero who makes you ask yourself: should I really be rooting for this guy?
I’ve long moved past the ‘questioning’ phase of my obsession. I landed squarely in the final stage of acceptance years ago, when I discovered Dark Romance, a genre in which it was perfectly acceptable—expected even—for the hero to walk the edge of morality and sanity. Sometimes, he even tips over that edge, taking the heroine with him.
As a girl who prefered Heathcliff over Darcy and Loki over Thor, it was a refreshing discovery. A liberating one. As a reader, it opened a door into a new world, one I could step into without shame. As a writer, it freed me from shackles I hadn’t even realized were holding me back. It allowed me to push my perception of a romantic hero beyond their limits and find inside myself the kinds of characters that imprint themselves onto your soul. It spurred me to play with plotlines I had avoided in the past for fear that I was pushing things ‘too far.’ It eventually became my opinion that I hadn’t been pushing things far enough.
It didn’t take me long to realize I wasn’t alone. While Romance readers are, in general, voracious, I find those who enjoy Dark Romance are even more so. They devour books and trade titles, always on the hunt for their next obsession. And make no mistake, it is an obsession. Dark Romance is a rapidly-growing arm of the genre for a number of reasons, but the most important one of all has already been mentioned.
It’s all about the men.
But what is it about antiheroes and villains that appeals? What is it about them that makes us want to dance in the dark and flirt with the shadows? If you ask fans of the genre, you’ll likely receive a variety of answers as diverse as the people giving them. But there are sure to be some common threads and in the midst of working on my latest book I began to ponder them. I began to consider why dark heroes are the most compelling and keep us crawling back time and time again. Here are a few of my conclusions.
Moral Ambiguity
I can only speak for myself in this, but as a writer I find it appallingly easy to write the archetypal romantic hero. Make him strong but sweet, make him protective but indulgent, make him charming but vulnerable. Give him just enough of an edge to make him exciting. Give him just enough arrogance to make him interesting but not so much that he can’t be humbled (usually by the heroine). Impart in him a deep sense of honor. If he’s complicated, give him a secret warm, gooey center. Add six feet plus of height and muscle, a deep voice, and eyes that darken when he’s aroused, and stir.
The dark Romance hero allows us the space to flip these archetypes on their heads. They allow us to embrace the truth of human nature and the full range of human actions and reactions in all their messiness and rawness. They allow us to admit that we don’t always want a man who will do the right or honorable thing. They allow us to indulge in the thrill of realizing such a man is capable of all manner of atrocities and is more than willing to visit those atrocities on anyone who tries to trifle with what belongs to him.
Obsession and Possession
One of the best parts of a Romance is the exploration of the underlying, visceral connection between two (and sometimes more *wink*) people. The way a charged glance can speak without words. The way a simple touch can translate into a plethora of meanings and insinuations. The way physical acts translate into conversations between hearts and souls. When it’s a Dark Romance? That connection becomes a force of nature. A Dark Romance hero doesn’t just love his heroine, he lives her, he breathes her. He’s obsessed and possessed. There isn’t a thing a heroine could do to upset him more than leaving. Cutting her hair into a mowhawk and dying it peacock blue? She’s still beautiful. Strip naked and walk down the street in broad daylight? Nobody better touch her, or they’re fucking dead. Join the circus as a lion tamer? He’s there watching every night and had a talk with the lion before she even came near it and ensured the beast knows its place.
Leave him? She might as well put a knife in his chest. And she’d better make it good, because if he doesn’t die he’s coming for her. Expeditiously. The love of a Dark Romance hero isn’t about what’s good or what’s healthy; it’s not about what’s right or wrong. It’s about intensity. It’s about a feeling, a knowledge that lives deep inside. She is his even when she doesn’t want to be (and let’s be honest, on some level she always does want to be).
Control and Surrender
I remember reading an article years ago about those old school bodice rippers and the attitudes of the times that produced them. Apparently, it was unheard of to allow heroines in romance any kind of agency—sexual or otherwise. In order to keep the heroines innocent and ‘relatable’ (because God forbid women read about other women enjoying sex), the Romance authors of the time had to make them weak and helpless. They had to paint their heroines as victims of circumstance and wrote desire as something that happens to them, not within them.
In a modern sense, I see Dark Romance as a space for reclaiming and rebuilding that narrative. What if, instead of taking agency away from the heroine, the hero’s dominance and sexual intensity actually puts it back in her hands? What if, when freed from constraining thoughts of what might be right or wrong or seemly, the heroine discovers her own intensity, her own power?
That, my loves, is what lives at the core of the Dark Romance. The awakening that happens when control is relinquished and surrender achieved. The moment when the heroine realizes all the things she’s been taught to want have no appeal. The moment it becomes clear that she’s the opposite side of his coin.
Blurred Lines
In traditional storytelling the roles of the characters are typically quite clear. The hero is the good guy, the villain is the bad guy. Even when some characters walk the line between good and bad, their motivations are straightforward and their means justify their ends. The Dark Romance hero is a different animal altogether. He’s the kind of hero who, with a single decision becomes the villain. The kind whose motivations and actions only seem rational and justifiable to him. His code of honor is tainted by personal vendettas. His obsession with the heroine makes him willing to descend into to seventh circle of hell and set up camp—and he won’t apologize for it.
In fact, the unapologetic nature of the Dark Romance hero might be his most fascinating feature. His intense and sometimes instant preoccupation with the heroine isn’t anything to be thought about or argued over. It’s a simple fact, one that drives his every move and colors his perception. For her, he will bend and break every rule. He will fight, maim, kill. He will crush dynasties in his fist. He will set the world on fire and watch it burn to ashes.
The hero of my current novel carries a badge and faithfully toes the line between justice and retribution. Until he loses everything. Until he meets her. Until curiosity becomes obsession and obsession becomes something dangerous. I can’t wait to tell you more about it.
In the meantime … who’s YOUR favorite dangerous book boyfriend? Honest answers only. This is a judgement free zone.
Maybe it’s fantasy. Maybe it’s therapy. Maybe we just like watching the world burn a little—if it means he’ll crawl through the ashes for her.