Fuck, Kill, Eat: Werewolves and the Death of Love

I’ve been thinking about werewolves a lot lately.

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No, really, like a lot.

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I recently listened to the audiobook of Glen Duncan’s The Last Werewolf, which is probably one of my favorite books of all time. I own a print copy and have read it twice, but decided to listen to it in my car on my way to work over the course of two weeks. I have a 40-minute drive to and from work Monday – Friday, and when I don’t feel like listening to music I listen to audiobooks that I download for free through an online service provided by my local library.

Over the past several months I listened to two Joe Hill novels, Heart-Shaped Box and NOS4A2, and the first two novels in the Vampire Diaries series by L. J. Smith. I had to stop listening to the Vampire Diaries novels, because I was getting pissed off at the fact that there are no people of color in the stories, and Elena Gilbert is a spoiled rich white girl who doesn’t deserve the love and attention of either Salvatore brother. I prefer the TV series to the novels mainly because of the diversity of characters and well…Damon Salvatore is a beautiful monster.

I would happily listen to more Joe Hill novels in my car, but I’ve either read or listened to all of them and last summer I even listened to Doctor Sleep and got my Charlie Manx fix through the world(s) shared between Joe Hill and Stephen King. I got very excited while listening to NOS4A2 when Charlie Manx talks about the different “inscapes” and the people he’s met that use them — Pennywise’s Circus (IT), the True Knot (Doctor Sleep), Christmasland (NOS4A2), the Treehouse of the Mind (Horns), the Night Road and Craddock McDermott (Heart-Shaped Box). Seriously, NOS4A2 is an Easter egg treasure-trove for readers of King and Hill. Treat yourself!

Reality has been kicking my ass, so my goal when choosing entertainment of any kind is to get as far from reality as possible. I often jokingly tell people that if a TV show, movie, or book doesn’t have vampires, werewolves, demons, witches, ghosts, or other paranormal characters, I’m not interested. But, it’s not really a joke.

I have been feeding my brain a steady diet of paranormal romance and dark speculative fiction. I binge-watched seasons 12 and 13 of Supernatural recently and now I’m suffering from Winchester withdrawal. Fox decided to cancel Lucifer, so I watched the last two bonus episodes and now that’s over and done. I started rewatching season 2 of Preacher to psyche myself up for season 3, but I’m not 100% sure of the date of its return to AMC. Then, on a whim, I decided to finally watch Lost Girl on Netflix. It has a Buffy vibe that I really enjoy and it is loaded with sexy, interesting, and often hilarious supernatural creatures. I like the dynamics between the Dark and Light Fae, I like the slow unfolding of the long cultural and political histories of this dual society, and I like the relationships that form between the characters. But, I’m not going to lie, the main reason why I’m watching right now is because of a certain werewolf.

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In the first season of Lost Girl, Dyson and the main character, Bo Dennis, become lovers. Because he is a werewolf chock full of Id and raging sexual energy, he is the first lover she’s ever had that didn’t die after having sex with her. Which, you know, is kind of a big deal when you’re a succubus.

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I mean, imagine if you had spent most of your adult life making love to people you’re attracted to or have strong feelings for, and each time you follow through on your sexual attraction, they end up dead. Sex with you is literally deadly. You are the embodiment of the death of love. Then, one day, you not only discover what you are and why your partners are dying, but you also find a mate who can provide you with what you need — companionship, acceptance, answers to your questions, finger-licking mega-boost sexual energy, and death-free sex. Death-free sex that is totally mind-blowing for both of you. You’d be tempted to think that love might still be in the cards for you.

I mean, love is still in the cards unless the person you love loves you so much that they inadvertently sacrifice their passion for you in an effort to save your life. Hence, the death of love. I mean, what’s more tragic than loving someone so much that you sacrifice everything for them with the consequence of never being able to love them again?

I’ve been on a werewolf kick for a while. Like I said, before I started watching Lost Girl on Netflix roughly a week ago, I listened to Glen Duncan’s The Last Werewolf, read by the late Robin Sachs, who lent his uber-sexy deep British accent to the first-person narrator, Jake Marlowe. Jake is a 200-year-old British werewolf who is facing the certainty of extinction of his species.

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For most of the novel, he accepts the fact that death is coming for him. In fact, he welcomes it. After 200 years, 147 of which he’s spent as a monster killing and eating humans, he’s done. He believes he’s seen it all and there are no new mysteries awaiting him. And then, the Universe has a few more laughs at his expense.

I suppose that most werewolf stories are really about love and it’s loss when you examine them closely enough. Lycanthropy is typically viewed as a curse that ruins the lives of the people who contract it. In most cases, lycanthropy is passed from werewolf to human through a bite. Unless lycanthropy is inherited through a family bloodline, or achieved through magical means, like wearing a belt made from a wolf’s pelt with a little black magic for good measure, werewolves are usually the survivors of violent attacks. And, once their physical wounds heal, the psychological ones are usually just beginning. If the werewolf has a conscience, they will most likely experience the early stages of a mental collapse after the first full moon when they turn into a homicidal maniac in wolf form.

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Jake Marlowe became a werewolf because he was bitten by one and during his first transformation he killed his wife. After killing and eating her, he read her journal and discovered that she was pregnant. His first act as a werewolf was to literally kill and eat love. For 147 years, he spent his life observing the sacred rites of werewolves: Fuck, Kill, Eat. He never found love again. At least, not until he realizes he’s about to be extinct. The Universe likes to laugh at us, but it seems to be especially jovial where monsters are concerned. At least romantic monsters who cling to their humanity in the midst of an extreme identity crisis. Jake assumes he’s the last living werewolf on Earth until he meets his female counterpart, Tallula Demetriou. So, not only is Jake no longer the last werewolf on Earth, but now he has a reason to live: Love.

So, what’s the deal with werewolves and romance? Well, who doesn’t want a passionate lover driven by their Id with superhuman strength, stamina, and a biological need to mate for life? A werewolf mate will literally kill people to keep you safe…or as an insane response to their unbridled jealousy.

At the heart of all werewolves is murderous rage and rapacious sexual energy. Left unchecked, they commit atrocities like Jake Marlowe killing his wife and unborn child, and while in human form they are often slaves to their libido. Without love, werewolves are basically fucking, killing, and eating machines.

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Typically, werewolves are portrayed as strong, handsome men suffering from some sort of identity crisis, or extreme guilt over becoming a murder once a month, and possibly an unbearable, soul-crushing melancholy brought on by unrequited love.

What I like most about Glen Duncan’s Last Werewolf Trilogy is the fact that we see the lives of werewolves from two perspectives, both male and female. Jake Marlowe’s acceptance of his true werewolf self — the good, the bad, the ugly, and the murderous — makes him an oddly likeable character. He has sex with prostitutes and somehow manages to not be a misogynist. He kills and eats humans once a month and somehow manages to be endearing in his descriptions of his own psychology. He’s a conundrum of horror, repulsion, intellect, cynicism, and raw sex appeal. Werewolves are mythological bad boys and they make excellent romantic characters when making terrible choices is your raison d’etre. I probably mentioned this before, but falling in love with monsters is usually a bad idea, regardless of what popular paranormal romance tells us. Whether you join Team Jacob or Team Edward, you’re essentially signing up for assisted suicide.

But, what if the werewolf is female?

If the 2000 cult horror film Ginger Snaps teaches us nothing else, it teaches us that female werewolves are dangerous monsters (and super-fucking cool). Their danger lies not only in the physical power that comes with their transformations each month, but in the empowerment that comes from shedding all the bullshit societal expectations of femininity. Female werewolves embrace their sexuality and engage in the mental gymnastics required to deal with the implied duality of being vessels for the creation of life and choosing to murder to satisfy the bone-rattling hunger for human flesh.

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But hey, don’t most women deal with similar dualities in every day life? Women are expected to be attractive to appease the ever-present male gaze, but only if they maintain the illusion of virginity. Women who ignore the male gaze and express their unique brand of sexuality or lack of interest in sex all together are accused of being sluts or hags. Let’s face it, there’s nothing more monstrous than sex-positive women who take full ownership of their bodies and decide who can and can’t have access to them.

Female werewolves choose their own paths. They embrace their sexuality. They choose multiple partners or mate for life. They become mothers or remain childless. They give the middle finger to societal expectations and rip out the patriarchy’s jugular.

As it turns out, Jake Marlowe is not the last werewolf. Tallula, his lover, his mate, his salvation, the love of his life (no pressure), makes the inevitability of extinction less likely. In fact, he gains strength in knowing that she is a better werewolf than he could ever hope to be. Tallula struggles with internal chorus of right and wrong that developed from her American upbringing and the expectations that women can only occupy certain roles — maiden, mother, and crone. And possibly, harlot. Tallula likes sex and engages in murder with the same ardor. She and Jake kill together and then have sex over the corpse in werewolf form, which ironically brings them closer together as a couple in their human guises. Essentially, their a serial-killing couple. Murder mates. Even monsters need love, right?

So, if female werewolves are more powerful and scarier than male werewolves, that might help explain how male werewolves have become sexually-charged eye candy in a lot of paranormal romantic fiction. I’m just stating that as a fact. It’s not a criticism in the least, because that would make me a hypocrite. There’s nothing I enjoy more than objectifying sexy werewolves…and examining the potentially dangerous ramifications of sexualizing monsters.

Peter Rumancek of Hemlock Grove, the Netflix original series based on Brian McGreevy’s 2012 novel by the same name, is an interesting monster. While he is physically appealing, his real attraction comes from his delightful irreverence and cynicism, and while his Romany upbringing predisposes him to criminal activity, his internal struggles are more geared toward keeping the people he loves safe rather than his guilt over killing and eating people.

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Then we have Alcide Herveaux, who could possibly be the sexiest werewolf ever in paranormal fiction. Charlaine Harris has kindly given us countless fuckable fictional characters, but Alcide is in a class all by himself.

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In Alan Ball’s adaptation of Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse novels for the HBO series True Blood, Alcide gets a much broader story arc than he does in the novels and his flirtations with Sookie Stackhouse got much further. He’s an interesting character who embodies strength and loyalty to a fault. And jealousy. Let’s not forget jealousy, which is essentially Alcide’s kryptonite.

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I have a soft spot in my heart for Alcide because he makes worse relationship decisions than I do. I mean, this guy has TERRIBLE luck with romance and his choice of partners, including Sookie Stackhouse, are pretty much all bad ideas. Plus, there’s the added bonus of him being naked a lot of the time.

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So, in the process of writing this blog post I realized that I have a lot more to say about werewolves and this post might be the jumping off point for a short series of posts. I definitely feel like I have more to say about female werewolves vs. male werewolves, and I’d like to talk more about Glen Duncan’s trilogy. But, I need to think about the subject a little more deeply.

Which reminds me, while I was listening to the second audiobook in the trilogy, Tallula Rising, I was able to solve or at least recognize the solution to an issue in my own writing. Tallula talks about her feelings in relation to motherhood and the acceptance of the terrible things she does and that are done to her. It was a moment of clarity that confirms the idea that in order to become a better writer, you need to read more books. I’m not going to talk about that moment of clarity in this post. I’ll save it for a future post. But, I will say that the irony of finding clarity about my own identity, my own writing, and the world I live in through stories about monsters is not lost on me. My own otherness has made me feel connected to monsters since childhood and I have always felt empathy toward characters who have no control of who or what they are. I suppose, I feel a kinship to monsters and the older I get, the more I take pride in that fact.

I’m going to keep up the ongoing process of self-discovery through writing in the hopes of becoming not only a better writer, but hopefully, my best self. And, I’m going to keep thinking about werewolves.

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I mean seriously, can you blame me?

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Fuckable Fictional Characters: Sam Merlotte

In honor of Mardi Gras, we’ll be taking a trip to Bon Temps, Louisiana to visit with one of the most fuckable characters from Alan Ball’s series, True Blood. As you might imagine, it would be difficult to choose just one character from the series to shower with your affections. I plan on writing posts for multiple characters in this fictional universe, and waffled about who would be first on my list. As much as I love vampires and werewolves, you’d think I’d start with Eric Northman or Alcide Herveaux. But no, I’m going talk about Bon Temp’s handsomest shifter, Sam Merlotte.

February 9: Sam Merlotte

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In a town full of supernatural weirdoes, Sam Merlotte is usually the most level-headed and reliable inhabitant of Bon Temps. As long as you stay on his good side, he’s a loyal friend and stand up guy. Perhaps a little judgmental and over-protective of some of the women in his life, Sam owns the local watering hole, Merlotte’s Bar & Grill. Sam employs a host of interesting characters, including Sookie Stackhouse, Charlaine Harris’s psychic heroine, Arlene Fowler, Tara Thornton, Terry Bellefleur, and my favorite, the fabulous Lafayette Reynolds.

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Sam has relationships with all of his employees that range from tolerant boss to love interest. Aside from Terry and Lafayette who work as cooks, Sam mainly employs female wait staff, all of which are easy on the eyes. Sam likes the ladies, and the ladies like Sam. He’s also easy on the eyes and genuinely a thoughtful and supportive guy. Unless you miss too many shifts or try to cheat him.

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Even Charlaine Harris stops by to check out the local flavor.

Bon Temps is a small town, so everybody knows everybody else’s business, and Merlotte’s is one of the best places to listen to local gossip. The colorful staff have personality traits that set them apart, and life experiences that make them interesting much in the way a train wreck is interesting. They’re daily lives are complicated enough that they do miss shifts from time to time. Sookie Stackhouse misses a lot of shifts after she begins dating a vampire, Bill Compton. The fact that Sookie likes this vampire so much is a source of concern for Sam. He’s not only worried about her safety. Sam is jealous because he wants to date Sookie. Unfortunately for Sam, Sookie seems to have placed him in the friend category indefinitely.

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No matter how much you love her peaches, you’re barking up the wrong tree.

But don’t worry about Sam. He’s never lonely for long. He develops several sexual relationships with local ladies, and as a teen he even managed to have sex with a Maenad, Maryann.

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Maryann teaches a young dog some new tricks.

He has a habit of dating or trying to date his waitresses, but one of his most notable on and off relationships is with his bartender, Tara Thornton. Tara is a complex woman and has nightmarish dating experiences and a history of abuse from her alcoholic born again mother. Let’s just say she has trust issues. But she’s sassy, independent, speaks her mind (perhaps a little too much), and is drop-dead gorgeous. Sam and Tara initially are just drinking buddies who share their concerns about Sookie’s dating habits. Tara and Sookie are best friends and have been for years. They’re tight. More like family than friends. One night after having too many drinks, Sam invites Tara to crash on the couch in his trailer behind Merlotte’s. They have a few more drinks, talk about how lonely they’ve been…and how horny, and pretty soon they’re naked and having some of the hottest sex on the show. Before they have sex, Tara makes it clear that she’s not looking for a serious relationship. Sam hesitates, but agrees that they make good friends, and being friends with benefits might be even better.

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I’d love to spend a bourbon-fueled night of bad choices with these two before sneaking out in the morning to avoid awkward conversation.

As I mentioned, Sam is a shapeshifter, or shifter. Not a werewolf like Alcide and the inbreeding family of werepanthers who kidnap Sookie’s brother, Jason Stackhouse, but a true shifter. Sam can become any animal, but tends to prefer dogs. Maybe because people trust them and he’s a loyal friend. Although vampires have “come out of the coffin”, shifters and weres prefer to remain anonymous to the larger human population. So only a few close friends know about Sam’s ability to transform into animals.

As the storylines become more complex, we learn that Sam has some skeletons in his closet. When he was young he ran away from home and ended up living with a foster family. The first time they caught him shifting, they packed up and moved without him. Sam had to fend for himself and apparently lived a life of crime for a number of years until he settled in Bon Temps. He claims to have bought the restaurant from the previous owners – the actual Merlottes – and he took over the business and the name. We get the sense that Sam has moved around a lot and has needed to reinvent himself on a few occasions.

As a teen abandoned by his foster family, Sam had to learn to survive on his own. He commits petty crimes to feed himself, and one night he unwittingly enters the house of a Maenad. Maryann catches him stealing from her and decides to have some fun with him. She seduces him and invites him to stay for a while. But Sam is kind of uneasy about Maryann. There’s something really strange about her. So, he sneaks out while she’s in the shower. With $30,000 of her money. Years go by, and Sam has managed to avoid many of the problems he’s created for himself by staying on the run. But eventually his past catches up with him in Bon Temps. Not only does Maryann track him down, but so does his real family. He’s not happy to see any of them. Sam prefers to stay a few steps ahead of his past, and no one in Bon Temps really knows his whole story. People get bits and pieces he chooses to reveal, but usually only in times of crisis.

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Like I said, Sam is a great friend when you stay on his good side. But he has a temper, and since he’s been known to not only conceal murders, but also commit them, you really shouldn’t piss him off.

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Maybe Sam isn’t as glamorous as the vampires and weres of Bon Temps, but he sure as hell knows how to wear a western-style shirt. And since he’s a shifter, we get to see him naked a lot.

He’s got a wiry frame and salt and pepper facial hair, which makes him totally fuckable. But for me, it’s his smile that would get me to follow him home to his trailer.

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Let’s get wild in the double-wide.