Me Luuuurve Neanderthals

Sharon's post over at Writeminded got me thinking about heroes. Particularly alpha heroes.

Apparently, I loves me some cavemen.

There was an old Stephanie James (Jayne Ann Krentz) book where the hero was a dangerous agent code named Wolf.

Aside: Of course he was code named Wolf. Has any agent been code named Titmouse?

Anyway, he went through a crisis of conscience, and had turned away from the job, become a vegetarian, etc. etc. But it worked for me, because when push came to shove he was still a dangerous agent. He still went out and got the bad guy.

Have you read books where the hero was initially portrayed as the second coming of Odysseus, ruthless and dangerous and almost predatory? Think Sean Connery in James Bond. You got the feeling he hated the witty repartee; he'd rather just kill the guy.

I love those heroes. Don't know why, and ain't gonna examine it.

But by the end of the book, these mad, bad, dangerous men have become Gandhi. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but we've seen no reason for the change. They're in luuuurve, maybe with a kid on the way, so suddenly they...just can't do it. They can't take revenge. They can't shoot that gun. They can't throw that punch. Repartee and a call to the sheriff will have to do.

Arrrrgggghhhh. Authors, for goodness sake, this is fantasy. MY fantasy. Any real man that scary digs me and I'd be getting restraining orders. But this is escapist fun, so I beg you- don't emasculate my alphas!