I’ve got a soft spot for fangs and feelings. I read a lot of vampire books, and the queer ones stick to my ribs. Maybe it’s the drama. Maybe it’s the loneliness. Or maybe it’s the way desire and hunger braid together. You know what? It’s all of that. For the curious, I once chronicled the whole candle-lit binge over here.
I read these at night on my couch, sometimes with cold pizza, sometimes with tea. I mark pages. I send friends little lines that hit me in the gut. Some of these books are tender. Some are a mess. Some are both. That’s kind of the point.
Before we start, a tiny note: when I say “gay vampires,” I mean queer vampires in general—see the broader history of queer vampires for context. Some are gay men. Some are bi. Some are lesbians. It all lives under the same dark umbrella here. If that bugs you, I get it. I’ll be clear in each review.
If you’re hungry for an even longer list of queer vampire reads, sink your teeth into the archives at Gay Book Reviews before the night’s over.
The one I keep arguing with: Interview with the Vampire by Anne Rice
I read this first when I was a teen and too moody for my own good. It’s the doorway into Anne Rice’s sprawling saga, The Vampire Chronicles, so once you start, the night gets long. I re-read it after the TV show came out, because my book club would not stop texting me.
Louis and Lestat act like lovers. They bicker. They cling. It’s not just subtext; it’s right there in the way they speak and grieve. It felt bold to me even now. The writing is lush. It smells like old wood and spilled wine.
- What I loved: The mood. The ache. How shame and desire sit in the same room.
- What bugged me: It can be slow. Louis complains a lot. I had to put it down a few times and breathe.
Did it make me feel seen? A little. Did it make me roll my eyes? Also yes. That mix works for me.
Too much? Maybe. But I couldn’t look away: The Vampire Armand by Anne Rice
This one gets very gay and very dramatic. Armand tells his story like a confession. There’s art, pain, priests, boys, power, and hunger all knotted up. It feels operatic. Sometimes it’s too much. Sometimes that’s the magic.
- What I loved: The heat between men is clear and not coy. The scenes in the theater glow.
- What bugged me: Consent is messy. The trauma is heavy. I needed a walk after some parts.
If you like your vampire boys tragic and beautiful, this is your candy bar. Eat it slow.
A 90s goth fever: Lost Souls by Poppy Z. Brite
I read this on a bus once. It felt like the air got thicker. The book is sticky with music, sweat, eyeliner, and bad choices. The vampires are young and wild. The teens are queer and searching. Some are boys who love boys; some float across lines.
- What I loved: The sense of place. The raw, messy voice. It’s punk, and it knows it.
- What bugged me: It’s bleak. There are themes that may be hard for some readers. I wanted a shower after.
But listen, it’s honest about being young and lost. That hit me. I could smell the club floor.
A warm bite: The Gilda Stories by Jewelle Gomez
This one is softer, and it matters. Gilda is a Black lesbian vampire who lives through history with grace. She makes family. She learns. She loves. The book is quiet but rich. I read it slow on purpose.
- What I loved: Chosen family, care, and Black queer joy. The span of time is so cool.
- What bugged me: Not much action. If you want big fights, this isn’t that.
Gilda made me feel safe. Strange to say about a vampire, right? But it’s true.
Teen chaos, but make it gay: The Fell of Dark by Caleb Roehrig
The main kid is gay. Vampires keep showing up with secrets and prophecies and nonsense. It’s funny, snappy, and kind of sweet. I finished it in two sittings and texted my friend, “Okay, that was fun.” It reminded me why queer fantasy still sparks joy—much like the titles in my roundup of 2024 faves that lit up my year.
- What I loved: Banter. A modern voice that doesn’t try too hard. Queer kids get to be heroes.
- What bugged me: The jokes crowd the mood sometimes. A few twists felt thin.
If you want a weekend read with gadgets, danger, and kisses, this works.
Campy, messy, and hot-blooded: Vassalord. by Nanae Chrono (manga)
One guy is a cyborg vampire hunter. One guy is a flirt who happens to be a vampire. They circle each other. They snack. They fight. They flirt more. It’s very boys’ love in tone, and it owns the camp.
- What I loved: Style for days. Chemistry that jumps off the page. Wild set pieces.
- What bugged me: The plot wanders. Fan service is heavy. I still had a blast.
I read it on my tablet with candy nearby. Not a classy pairing, but it fit.
Office romance, but fangs: Blood Bank by Silb (manhwa/webtoon)
Vampires run banks. Humans try to live around it. A human teller meets a vampire heir, and things get tender and weird at the same time. It’s m/m and it leans on power issues, but it also cares about feelings.
- What I loved: Clean art. Sweet beats. A world that makes sense fast.
- What bugged me: Early chapters are rough around the edges. The power gap may turn some off.
I read it on my phone with the screen too bright at 1 a.m. No regrets.
Sapphic side note: The Coldest Touch by Isabel Sterling
Not gay men here—this is a vampire girl and a human girl. I’m adding it because it’s a queer vampire story that feels cozy and sharp at once. Death visions, school drama, and a romance that feels kind.
- What I loved: Cute dates, real stakes (ha), and kind banter.
- What bugged me: It leans YA. If you hate school scenes, skip it.
Sometimes I need soft. This gave me soft with a little bite.
How I choose what to read next
I go by mood. That sounds silly, but it works.
- Want lush, old-school, and sad? Interview with the Vampire.
- Want queer angst and glitter? Lost Souls.
- Want warmth and history? The Gilda Stories.
- Want jokes and teen danger? The Fell of Dark.
- Want big gay drama and velvet? The Vampire Armand.
- Want campy, thirsty, and stylish? Vassalord.
- Want modern BL with suits? Blood Bank.
- Want sapphic comfort? The Coldest Touch.
Sometimes I stack them. A heavy one, then a light one. My brain thanks me later.
A quick word on content
These books touch hard stuff: grief, control, sex, power gaps, blood (duh). Some stories are gentle. Some push lines. I check content notes when I can. You should too. It’s not weak to care for your own heart.
Just in case the steamy pages leave you wanting a real-life taste of nocturnal adventure, you might be curious about places online where queer people actually meet for after-dark fun. Before you dive in blind, check out this no-fluff review of MySinder—see the details here—it breaks down safety features, pricing, and how the app handles LGBTQ+ users so you can decide if it’s worth sinking your teeth into.
And for readers who find themselves near upstate New York and would rather work the kinks out of their shoulders than spar with them on an app, the crowdsourced rundown in this Rubmaps Binghamton cheat-sheet can save you time and awkward guesses by detailing prices, ambiance, and which parlors actually respect your boundaries.
So, do gay vampire books bite or what?
I keep coming back because they hold shame and desire side by side. They ask, “What do you hunger for?” Then they wait. Sometimes they judge you. Sometimes they don’t. That honesty feels rare. If teeth aren’t your thing but gay leads absolutely are, I keep a running list of non-vampire tales here.
Plus, they’re fun. Capes. Clubs. Late-night roofs. A kiss that feels like trouble. I’m a sucker for that mood. I read them in fall, but also in July with a fan blasting