Margot Arden’s Vampire so Virtuous operates on a deceptively simple premise: what happens when predators develop moral codes? The question drives this dual narrative thriller which follows Cally, a Boston taekwondo instructor navigating terrible dates and inexplicable nightmares, and Antoine, a centuries-old vampire whose self-imposed ethical boundaries alienate him from his own kind.
Even if you’re not much of a fan of vampires, or feel that vampire media is weighed down by too many tropes, Vampire so Virtuous mostly breathes fresh life into the genre with its sharp character work. If nothing else, it’s just solid fun to read even amidst its somewhat dark motifs. Cally’s introduction through a disastrous blind date with the insufferable Stefan immediately establishes the novel’s interest in predatory behavior. Stefan’s toxic masculinity, his insistence that “a strong woman like you needs an alpha like me”, sets up the themes that predominate the book.
The alley encounter that follows reveals Arden’s approach to vampire mythology. Antoine’s feeding from Cally becomes a study in contradictions: his supernatural speed overwhelms her martial arts training, yet he chooses to induce pleasure rather than terror. His description of her blood as “particularly rich and heady… with a subtle citrus edge” is particularly memorable, showing the author’s talent for description.
This incident establishes the central paradox that drives Antoine’s character throughout the novel. His self-imposed rule against feeding from the same human twice represents more than vampire etiquette; it’s his desperate attempt to maintain ethical boundaries in a fundamentally unethical existence. Without going into spoilers, nightclub-owner Minh’s role as antagonist provides essential counterpoint to Antoine’s more ethical approach. His mocking assertion that “vampirism is the ultimate blessing, yet you see it as a curse” articulates the philosophical divide that separates them, much like the Cullens and the Volturi.
Although I’ve never been there personally, Arden’s Boston setting feels well-rendered and lived-in rather than merely just a generic setting. The contrast between candlelit witch circles and fluorescent-lit training halls, between elegant restaurants and amber-lit alleys help bring the story to life. In addition, the historical sequences set in Rococo-era France are particularly enjoyable, the Nantes flashbacks in particular keeping things fresh and providing an interesting insight into Antoine’s backstory.
Margot Arden’s writing style in Vampire so Virtuous strikes an engaging balance between sharp, contemporary wit and lush, sensory description. Dialogue is crisp and often laced with humour, grounding the supernatural elements in believable human interaction—Cally’s sarcastic rejoinders and Antoine’s dry detachment made me laugh out loud a couple of times. Action sequences, whether a tense feeding or a rapid exchange of taekwondo kicks, are cinematic in their precision, with just enough tactile detail to immerse without bogging the pace. However, some readers may find something here could have been cut as the book does round off at a rather lengthy 375 pages.
Overall, Vampire so Virtuous is a gripping novel overflowing with characters you will alternately love and hate. For fans of Twilight and The Vampire Diaries, the novel succeeds because it takes its time to connect readers to its characters while maintaining solid pacing and momentum. Arden has created characters whose choices matter, in a world where moral compromise carries genuine consequences. The result is vampire fiction that neither sanitizes its monsters nor celebrates their monstrosity, but instead examines what it means to choose humanity in the face of inhuman power.
You can get your copy of Vampire so Virtuous here!
