Mancandy Monday: The Only Alpha In My Harem

You may have heard: I like beta heroes. Correction: I love beta heroes. In fact, if I were truly being honest, I kind of like the greek letter that comes after beta. I'm halfway down the bloody alphabet. I like omicron heroes. Which sounds even more alpha than alpha, weirdly, and also like he's the star of some weird sci-fi novel about the code that unlocks the universe and lets out creepy space monkeys or some other such nonsense.

I call it: The Omicron Factor. Yeah, definitely space monkeys in that one, somewhere.

But all of this immense and unwieldy digression aside, I do like one alpha. There is one true balls-to-the-wall-chugs-drill-bits-instead-of tea-arms-like-trucks-sweats-viagra alpha in my imaginary harem of hot heroes. One real man's man, of the sort who probably wipes engine grease on his many cut-off items of clothing, when he's done at work for the day. One hairy, temple popping, testerone rippled, unadultered slab of man-meat.






CJ, from the Dawn of the Dead remake.

Yeah. Just fookin' look at him. It's like my brain and my loins have opposite day, when it comes to this guy. Like my brain and my loins revolt for one sheer instant of man-beast, because of all the Gabriel Grays I put them through.

When they go alpha, they go full alpha. I mean, have you seen the Dawn of the Dead remake? He's a security guard at a mall, for one. I mean, stereotypically speaking, you don't get much more hopped up on crazy testerone juiceballs than that. And then he pushes everyone around with his big gun and gets all pissy about there being a zombie apocalypse going on.

But that's not even getting into these images of gratuitous facial hair porn:











Which is the point where my loins spontaneously burst into flames. I mean...his hair is just so...black. And his eyes are...so black. And his soul is so...black.

But worse than this: he's played by Michael Kelly. who has the most masculine face in the history of the universe (especially with that fookin' handlebar and goatee thing he's rocking), but also has a mysteriously gentle voice.

That's right, folks. He's the alpha who cares. He only goes and saves everyone from a goddamned zombie apocalypse, at the end! He's like the prototypical romance alpha. He has the entire asshole alpha to dominant provider storyline! Only in a zombie movie.

How orsum is that? I'll tell you how orsum that is: very. And though I don't often like great hulking brutes who are also assholes in my erotic romance, I do like him, doing that, in a zombie movie. And I mean, not enough to write stories based on him, all the time. Not enough to oust my betas (no matter how much flack I get for writing them, I'm going to keep coming back for more. They deserve it, because girls do want to make passes at boys who wear glasses. I know they do. They're somewhere out there, those readers who love betas. You're out there, aren't you? Please be out there!), but enough to one day maybe write my zombie apocalypse epic.

With him as the dirty, filthy star.