Vampires, Fae, and Fantasy Romance

Lately, I’ve found myself devouring books about vampires and the Fae. And by devouring, I mean speed-reading through them in a day, mostly because I’m skipping entire chapters. Specifically, the sex scenes—which, let’s be honest, are often repetitive enough to make you question if the author accidentally copied and pasted. And then there’s the endless internal monologuing. Oh, the monologuing!
I get it—it’s fantasy. It’s not supposed to be a strict adherence to the laws of physics, anatomy, or even common sense. But if I have to read about one more impossibly petite, golden-curled heroine paired with a brooding, seven-foot-tall vampire lord who probably can’t fit through a standard doorway, I might just throw the book across the room.
Let’s talk about it.
The Tiny Heroines and Their Towering Beaus
I understand vampires are supposed to be ethereal and perfect—immortal beings with impossible beauty. But why, oh why, are the heroines always described as these tiny, waif-like creatures, barely grazing five-foot-two, with flowing golden or fiery red hair cascading down to their waists? And don’t even get me started on their bodies—always "curvy in all the right places" despite weighing what I assume is slightly more than a feather.
Meanwhile, their love interests are hulking masses of testosterone and shadowy mystery, towering at six-foot-eight or taller, with shoulders broad enough to cast an eclipse. Now, I’m no engineer, but basic geometry tells me this pairing would make even the simplest tasks—say, holding hands—an ergonomic nightmare. And kissing? Oh, the logistics!
Imagine the seven-foot vampire hero bending down every single time to kiss his dainty beloved. That’s a chiropractic tragedy waiting to happen. His lower back would be in eternal agony—not from centuries of undead battles, but from trying to lean down far enough to kiss Little Miss Five-Two.
And then there’s the bedroom issue.
We’re supposed to believe that a 6’8”, 250-pound immortal warrior is tenderly lying on top of this delicate flower without accidentally crushing her ribcage? I’m sorry, but no. Suspension of disbelief only stretches so far.
Sure, the books always have those convenient workarounds—he’s propped on an elbow, or he’s using other skills that don’t require full-body weight distribution. But still! Every time I read one of these scenes, all I can picture is this poor woman squashed under a mountain of vampire muscle, wheezing and wondering if the undead have life insurance policies.
Skipping the Blah Blah
So, yes, I breeze through these books in a day. Not because they’re gripping page-turners, but because I skip entire sections of blah blah blah. Endless monologues, repetitive descriptions, and of course, the play-by-play of yet another scene where our tiny heroine stares into the glowing crimson eyes of her seven-foot broody lover and contemplates how deeply she feels his ancient pain.
Why Do I Care?
You might be wondering—why does this bother me so much? After all, it’s fantasy. It’s supposed to be larger-than-life, exaggerated, and a little silly. And yes, it is. But as someone who’s spent a lifetime writing and reading stories, I can’t help but feel that these tropes have become lazy shorthand.
Not every heroine needs to be a pocket-sized beauty. Not every hero needs to be a looming fortress of masculinity. And yet, it feels like so many authors—particularly female ones—fall into these patterns without question.
And maybe, just maybe, there’s a little bit of personal frustration here. I’m not a tiny woman. Never have been. At 5’8”, I still have to tilt my head back when talking to someone over six feet. I can’t imagine trying to dance—or, ahem, engage in other activities—with a seven-foot vampire prince without needing to take a yoga class first.
But here’s the thing—I’m not against fantasy or romance. I love both! I just want a little more variety. More tall heroines, more robust bodies, more dark-haired women, more realistic diversity. Because fantasy doesn’t have to mean carbon-copy characters cut from the same mold.
What About My Stories?
​In my own books, you’ll find women who are tall, strong, and yes, sometimes robust. They aren’t all ethereal wisps of golden beauty. Some have fiery red hair, others raven-black locks. And while they still get to fall in love with their mysterious brooding men (or women—I don’t judge), they do so in ways that make sense.
At the end of the day, I’m not here to shame anyone who enjoys these tropes. Heck, I still read the books! But a little variety, a smidge of realism, and fewer back-breaking love scenes wouldn’t hurt, would they?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another vampire book waiting for me. Here’s hoping the heroine is at least tall enough to reach the top shelf without a stepstool.
Until next time, happy reading—and may your vampires have decent posture.