I am unfashionable. Out of vogue. I’m not in step with current trends, I’m dated, I’m passé, I’m outmoded.
I like beta men.
Look at that- beta men are so unfashionable there isn’t even a proper term for them. There go the alpha males, strutting around with their manly title, being all alpha. While the poor betas are stuck being rubbish and unloved and without a classification.
Though I hear it’s always been this way. Don’t alpha male lions kick sand in the faces of the betas, and steal their lunch money?
Though somehow I doubt anyone is going to steal Clark Kent’s lunch money. You know why? No? Come over here and I’ll whisper. Closer. Closer. Now hunch down. Yeah.
He’s really Superman.
Never would have thought it, would you? Because everyone knows that men who aren’t alpha males are sissies. Romance Land says so. Some authors even go so far as to label men who don’t drag them back to their lairs by their hair as pale limp weirdoes, as though any man who is the least bit non-aggressive is actually a cave dwelling mole creature.
But I know differently, because I like beta men.
I don’t mean submissive men. I don’t mean men who like to be beaten up by a dominatrix named Mistress DarkPain. I mean men who aren’t afraid to let themselves be anything other than an ultra aggressive brooding hulk.
For example, just think about Superman for a moment. Movie Superman, as played by Christopher Reeve and his creepy doppelganger, Brandon Routh. He isn't afraid to be an unassuming doof, most of the time! In fact, I think he quite likes being my plaything being Clark Kent. And even when he’s catching planes and hurling atom bombs into the sun, he’s never show-offy about it. There he goes, just quietly doing his really physically impossible good deeds. He’s much more like Jesus in that regard, and Jesus never starred in a Christine Feehan novel.
Not that I think that beta men are like Jesus. Or maybe they are, because I kind of fancy Him. Think about it: tall, dark, handsome. Great beard. The titles alone would be worth it: The Son of Thy Lord and His Secret Virgin’s Baby, for example.
And he’s never a macho asshole. Unlike most erotic romance heroes, these days.
Maybe it’s just that I’m fed up of the macho assholes. I like an alpha male. I truly do. I just think that sometimes, authors confuse “alpha male” with “oops I just accidentally on purpose punched your mum in the face for looking at you”. And it’s all become a bit of a competition, with everyone trying to out-alpha each other- as I think Dear Author once predicted.
Now it’s all a grim reality.
Or maybe it’s just that I honestly do love beta men. Men who are a bit like Clark Kent- humble and sweet and bumbling, but with hidden depths, perhaps. Depths that mean he can hurl a 747.
Men who don’t obey exactly, but who like to give a lady exactly what she wants.
A bit like a sex robot.
Oh wait- this is all coming out wrong! I can’t even think of a good name for you, mysterious group of passive-in-an-odd-way men! I’ve let you down, my Clark Kents, my Jesus Christs, my Gabriel Grays! I can’t protect you from getting the collective sand of Romancelandia kicked in your faces! I’m trying to build a career, here!
I’m just not up to the task. Maybe when I’m a gajillionaire. Then I’ll write novel after novel starring You, and everyone will herald me as a trailblazer, and I’ll laugh and laugh at all of those who mocked my love of mole creatures.
Or I’ll stop smoking crack. Whichever.
‘Til then, my love, you must only continue to bonk me in my nightly dreams. Stand there until I tell you to move, and not because you’re obedient. Because you want to stand there.
All my love now and forever,
The Mighty Viper aka Charlotte Stein