First published in 1970, the gay pulp classic Vampire's Kiss, follows the transformation of Damon Sanger from an ambitious, married attorney to a gay vampire whose bodily libation of choice isn't blood.
During a restless night of solo barhopping, Damon accidentally wanders into The Cave, a gay nigthclub, and drunkenly goes home with hypnotic, handsome and red-lipped seducer Alan Drake. Alan makes short work of Damon's conviction that he's straight as an arrow, and Alan isn't just gay; he's also a vampire. Or is he? Damon can't decide whether his trysts with Alan have simply opened his eyes to his true desires, or whether he's under the influence of a supernatural fiend whose wildly exciting influence has inducted him into the ranks of the homosexual undead, doomed to roam the earth and convert other men.
Written with a light hand and a sly sense of humor, Vampire's Kiss follows Damon as he negotiates his secret life while pretending to be the ordinary suburban husband who enjoyed boozy barbecues with the neighbors and admiring curvaceous women. As Damon learns how to satisfy his new appetites and maintain his sanity, he conducts an ongoing, tongue-in-cheek examination of himself—he is a lawyer, after all—about everything from the morality of recruiting new vampires to whether he really has to give up the garlic he's always loved.
Friday, September 18th, 3:00 p.m.: Alan called me and I'm going to see him tonight. Once I heard his voice, I simply couldn't resist him. I know I shouldn't go, but I am completely compelled, consumed with the need for him.
About 4 in the morning.: He was throwing a party at The Cave and I have never had such a good time, once I got over being jealous. We closed it up and went to his trailer and made love. All during the party I kept thinking about how good his come would taste in my mouth, and when he finally came it was even better than I remembered. I love to suck off my lover until he comes in my mouth. I love you. I adore you, Alan Drake, Drake Alan. Alan Drake, I am in love with you. I worship at the shrine of your cock, Count Dracula. I love you.
Monday the 21st. 8:30 a.m.: What a terrible weekend. A disaster. Margaret and her god-damned social whirl. I'm sick and I have to go to parties. I'm in the clutches of a vampire and I have to smile at people.
I really am in your clutches, Alan. Call me. Read my mind from afar if you are Count Dracula and call me. I need you. I call out to you. Let me come to you and nourish myself on my knees before you. Put the life of your seed into me so that I may live.