I have a confession to make. I’m not into paranormal romance. Vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, daemons...meh. Give me something grounded in reality, either contemporary or historical, not some made-up stuff about curses and full moons and silver bullets.
Or so I thought until I picked up Gail Carriger’s Changeless and decided I’d read it for its steampunk setting, even though it heavily featured vampires and werewolves. The author’s detailed world-building impressed me. I liked how she set out the rules and etiquette of vampire and werewolf society. Still, the story didn’t connect with me until right at the end. Suddenly I was hooked. (Spoiler alert!) When Woolsey throws out his pregnant wife and accuses her of infidelity, I had the perfect meaty romantic angst to sink my teeth into. I raced through the next book, Blameless, keen to know how this intractable problem would be resolved.
For me, romance puts that extra zing in a story. Without the romantic conflict, I wouldn’t have bothered reading the next book, but now I’m eagerly waiting for the next instalment. And without the romance I wouldn’t have bothered reading more paranormal stuff.
Now, I’m even getting story ideas involving werewolves. Yikes!