Why a BAD BOY Makes a GOOD HERO
“I bear the most charming of names...”
--Skriker, Black Dog and Rebel Rose
Ladies, we all know them: THOSE guys. You know, the ones that have the great hair, the hard-muscled prison bodies (sometimes acquired in prison), and the tat ink that we want to examine up close. The ones who can make our hearts skip a beat with a single glance, a cocky eyebrow raised in acknowledgement.
And all that before they get us into bed.
What I’m talking about is the Bad Boy. We all know the type…hell, I married one. And to this day, I tell my naughty, pain-in-the-ass beefcake alpha that he’s just bad for me. Even though I know he’s bad for me in many ways, he’s like crack. I just can’t get enough…or so the song goes.
But can a bad boy make a good hero? Wouldn’t that mean that the guy would have to stop being a bad boy?
I had to ask myself this question when I sat down to write my second book, the notorious cult-followed Black Dog and Rebel Rose. The hero of this sordid, blood-splattered tale is about as bad as they come. Not only is he a hard-sculpted, heavily-tattooed, Harley-riding, Camel-smoking supernatural hunter who blows vamps to bits and lays as many fine ladies between his sheets as he can when he’s not hunting. He’s also half-demon. Which *technically* should make him…well, just bad. Right? Right???
Not so. Sure, when we first meet Skriker, he’s a bad boy in the truest sense of the word. He bangs-‘em-and-leaves-‘em, one after the other, and thinks nothing of ripping a woman’s heart out and dashing it across the wall before blasting off into the night, full-throttle, never to be seen again. Selfish is Skrike’s way…that is, until he meets Rose.
Rose is the woman that won’t jump into his arms the moment she exchanges a word with him. In fact, she’s the black-haired bitch on wheels who has a gun in his face when he first meets her. The fact that she is the most beautiful and alluring woman he has ever seen matters little to her—his banter and his charm does little to crack her tough exterior. And yet, as they hunt together, Skriker begins to feel something very genuine for his aloof new companion: affection. Love. He begins to fear for her safety, even though Rose has no problem taking care of herself. And when he finally does crack through that wall and she falls into his arms, it isn’t, as they say, just a fuck.
After sex, he doesn’t turn tail and run. In fact, it is Rose who makes this attempt. And what does our bad boy do? Chase after her, crying for her to stay with him, just stay. And when his new lady love falls into the hands of those who would do her harm, Skriker suddenly finds himself willing to sacrifice anything, anything, to save her and have her running at his side once again.
This is how the notorious bad boy is redeemed and made the hero, at least in my story. He discards his selfishness and, for the first time, finds himself really, truly, falling in love and willing to give himself wholly to another. Does this mean that he has discarded all of the deliciously naughty bits of his style that make him “bad”? Hell, no! There’s still the Harley, and the ciggies, and the tattoos. There’s still the cocky glance, the smirk that could melt butter. The ten-inch kielbasa that lives in his pants…
So, what’s your point, Dani? That’s what you ask, right? Well, in simple terms, the bad boy makes a good hero because he’s redeemable. Because the heroine can take him and help him become a better man. Not change him or sculpt him, mind you…I have never prescribed to the concept of a woman taking a man and making him what she wants him to be. I’m talking about a woman helping her bad boy to better himself, to gain new depth, to become bigger, badder, than he ever could be without her.
And isn’t that what real romance is all about?
