A lot of people like to talk about how annoying it was that Stephanie Meyer made her vampire sparkle, but I never minded that. The affront, to me, was that she took away their fangs. Fangs have to be the most important part of the vampire anatomy, even more so than pallor, ugly capes, bad accents, and red eyes. Fangs are my bread and butter.
In all honesty I just love the aesthetic. Something about a pair of vampire fangs with some blood dripping or biting into a throat, that's picturesque. I think that's why vampires will never go out of style; they manage to be sexy and really, really fucking scary and disgusting, all at once, there aren't many other paranormal creatures who manage to be both alluring and grotesque in the same way.
Werewolves come close, but most of the time its no dice. It takes a special author to really do werewolves right, at least for me.
Vampires are another story. That's not to say that I haven't read my fair share of vampire stories, because I have. I've read and reread them.
Twilight, obviously, was the Big One, back when I was thirteen I had that whole Twilight phase, yes. Dark times.
But also, My Blood Approves, The Vampire Diaries, I Am Legend, to a lesser extent the Mortal Instruments, among countless other traditionally- and self-published books. And there are so many popular vampire series; House of Night and Vampire Academy both blew up in the YA genre, so there's even room for vampire stories that prey on some of the same tropes.
To some extent Blood of Midnight (which is free today and tomorrow!) was an inevitable book for me to write. But I also know its not the last vampire book I'm gonna write.
Every once in awhile, you just need to shove a Dracula insert into a high school romance, you know?
And I think there's still a market for it. Despite how saturated it is, yes. How many people rewatch The Lost Boys once a year? How many people still troll Twilight forums or tune in to watch Vampire Diaries every week? Quite a few.
So that's me: secretly rooting for the vampire genre from my post in the doorway of your bedroom closet or the swath of shadows in the space beneath your desk, every night from twelve to four am. I kid.
Maybe.
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