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[ Spotify: Late Night With Daniel Molloy Playlist (All Episodes Songs) ]
This broadcast contains mature subject matter, listener discretion is advised.
Good evening to every bloodsucker, were-being, ghost, ghoul, gobins, witch, and what-the-fuck out there listening tonight! Coming to you live - and this time on a Monday night since it’s a long three day weekend here in the US of A - from Los Angeles, California, this is Late Night with Daniel Molloy!
That was The Killers with “Give Me A Shot At The Night”, a song that has a special place in my undead heart. As promised, tonight’s episode is an interview, because I aim to please and deliver; just not the interview I had originally planned, so I hope you’ll excuse the technical difficulties and delay.
You still get an interview this week – it’s just me. After all, if I’m not willing to tell-all, why should I expect anyone else to get on air and do the same? And if you’re sick of listening to me talk then I hope at the very least you stick around for the music.
So for those of you just tuning in… who the hell am I?
My name is Daniel Molloy. I’m most known, unfortunately, for being my maker Armand’s fledgling, or being that reporter that got turned after a few years of playing the Devil’s Minion and then lost his goddamn mind.
And before all that? Before I was ‘born to darkness’ as so many other immortals have called it – I was born in 1955 in Iowa. Wilton, Iowa specifically. Came from a pretty average American family at the time; my parents were William and Mary Molloy, and I had three siblings; older brother was Peter, a younger brother Thomas or ‘Tom’, and my little sister Ruth. Raised Catholic.
My older brother Peter, now he was the golden child of the family. Four years older than me, handsome in a classic sort of way so all the girls always flocked to him, and being on the high school football team didn’t hurt either. He went to college on an athletic scholarship so he was good at it too, spo. I idolized my older brother when I was a kid, right up until everything changed. Used to follow him around like kid brothers tend to do.
I wanted so much to be like that when I got older; confident, self-assured, too cool, a guy who could make friends effortlessly, and that our parents were endlessly proud of… our dad especially. He and Peter would always be out in the garage on the weekend, working on the family car at first, then Peter’s car when he turned 16. Our dad was a car salesman so… cars were kind of a big deal in our family. I couldn’t wait until it was my turn to do that. Get invited out to work on the family car, or car of my own, eventually.
But that never happened.
This is Marina and “The Family Jewels”:
Welcome back, this is Late Night with Daniel Molloy, where tonight I’m interviewing myself. I hope that doesn’t stop you from continuing to listen and sending in requests, dedications, and listener questions.
Summer of ‘69 - my older brother was 18 and had just graduated, and I was 14. I followed him out one night to a party in the middle of a cornfield. Iowa has a lot of corn, folks, and not a whole hell of a lot of anything else, at least not out in the part I’m from.
Typical high school summer party; underage drinking, one of the other recently graduated seniors had driven their truck out there so the radio was going and there was dancing.
Well long story short, I got a little drunk, ended up alone down by the train tracks with my brother’s best friend, also a senior and football player, also going to college on a sports scholarship.
That was the first time I ever kissed another guy. When I really knew for certain, that I was gay.
Unfortunately his girlfriend walked up on us so she also found out I was gay. And that her boyfriend was. Everything blew up like throwing a fist full of dynamite into an outhouse – it was a total shitstorm.
I’m sure some of you can understand how badly that all went over. Especially in the Midwest, in a small town, in the 60s, while Catholic. I became the family shame and disappointment.
You’re listening to Late Night with Daniel Molloy, at that was “Catholic Guilt” by Sacred Hearts.
The last four years of my life in Iowa were… difficult.
My parents ended up moving me out of the house and into the garage; converted the workshop out there into a makeshift room so I’d have a roof over my head but wouldn’t be in the house to infect my younger siblings with my evil homosexual ways. Every Sunday I was expected to go to church, go to confession, and… pray the gay away.
Didn’t work, folks.
High school was like walking a landmine every day. I just… buried myself in my studies. Ended up doing track because I got really good at running. Had to, to avoid getting my ass beat on the regular. I even lettered in track, if you can believe it… but English class, that was what I loved the most. When I finally left when I was 18, it was to go to San Francisco… was going to be a Journalism Major and Minor in English.
And I wouldn’t have even been able to go at all, if it hadn’t been for my grandmother, Eleanor Molloy. My father’s mother. I’ve talked about her here on the show before. She financed my trip to California, gave me enough to cover my first semester of tuition and find a place to live.
I left Iowa the summer after I graduated. That was 1973, and this is Bronski Beat with “Smalltown Boy”:
Thanks for tuning in tonight, this is Late Night with Daniel Molloy.
So…. 1973. San Francisco. I was a college freshman, in a new city, struggling to make ends meet by working two part-time jobs after classes; one as a waiter in a diner, the other at a radio station. Free time, what little I had of it, I started wandering around the city trying to do interviews with the equipment I checked out from the college library. I was just finally starting to settle into a routine. Starting to get used to being on my own, being a young gay man in the gay mecca of San Fran, The City By The Bay.
And then the interview with Louis du Point du Lac happened.
Going to New Orleans happened.
Armand happened.
Here’s where I need to take a moment, listeners, and tell you something frank and up front; there’s the narrative that Lestat and Armand have both put out there about what happened after that to me, and that narrative? Is their own.
Lestat has a habit of sensationalizing everything be it an immortal war or a hangnail. And my own maker? Has control issues. I could argue with Armand until the sun comes up about how I actually felt about past events, and he’d still argue with me that my thoughts and feelings and experiences aren’t entirely correct. That, maybe more than anything else, is something I resent him for, because he’ll so often hang his hat of justification on the peg of my mental instability.
So my own account of that time in my life, here it is, quick and dirty; I spent my years with Armand desperate for the blood and immortality. I won’t refute that.
What I do dispute is that I wanted everything that happened to me then to happen; that I had a choice to leave it all behind. That I had any sort of real control of the situation. What mortal has any fighting chance of getting away from a 500 year old immortal that’s decided they own you?
After Pompeii? After the first time I tasted the blood? Not a fucking chance. I was already eyeball deep in alcoholism by the time Armand let me have his blood, trying to drink away my fear from being on the run across the globe, trying to stay ‘interesting’ so he wouldn’t kill me.
The blood was just another addiction. One that I couldn’t untangle myself from, and one that…I’d have done anything, anything to have more of.
You’re listening to Late Night with Daniel Molloy, and that was Medina with “Addiction”.
My years with Armand became a blur. Between the alcohol and the drugs – both I had free and easy access to, Armand’s limitless funds and desire to do whatever he needed to to keep me compliant and with him certainly factored in, and add his blood on top of that – half the time I didn’t know up from down, left from right.
He wanted to drag me to the ballet? Fine. Wanted to check out the new club on the East side? Fine. Wanted me to fuck that couple from Atlanta who found him an unending source of entertainment and fascinating conversation? Or that group of tourists from Berlin he chatted up at the new art gallery? Or that business man from Wall Street he wanted to eat after he picked all the financial information from his brain? Fine.
Self-erosion doesn’t happen all at once, it happens in degrees, and you don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s too late – if you realize it at all.
I’m sure I sounds bitter and angry. I am, listeners. Because it didn’t have to be that way. The divide between me and my maker is a fissure that’s been carved out over the decades by so many things, and many of them, most of them by his own hand and decisions.
And I clung to the… illusion that it could be more than what it was up until I couldn’t anymore. I told myself that every toxic thing that happened was some version of love that I was just too mortal and stupid to understand yet. That it would all make sense someday, if I ever actually got to become an immortal too.
Years of being good enough to be useful, a guide through the modern age, a warm body with a social security number and citizenship to build an empire on off the coast of Florida, but not good enough to bring over into the blood.
This is Britney Spears and “Toxic”:
This is Late Night with Daniel Molloy and tonight I’m interviewing myself.
So anyone who’s read the books knows what happened. I got sicker and sicker in every way possible. I ran, when I could, but I always ended back with Armand. Addiction is tricky like that, and there’s not exactly a rehab program you can check into for that kind of thing.
He finally turned me, when it was that, or my death was the only other option.
That was the point where my delusions about the future would be with him ended. My… belief that my being a vampire would change the dynamics between us were obliterated within that first month of being in the blood.
My first kill was an innocent girl, a runaway. She was … young. Had ended up in San Francisco hoping for a new life, a new start. She reminded me of me when I first went there in ‘73. Full of dreams.
He had me snuff them all out when I killed her.
All my first kills were like that. Armand said they were ‘those who wanted to die’. That’s how he feeds. It.. destroyed some part of me when I finally learned how to hunt for the evildoers. I didn’t learn any of that until we were back in Miami with the others, after Akasha had been killed. I learned how to hunt that way from Marius, and Khayman, and… it was all so long ago and I wasn’t doing great even at that point that I can’t remember who else helped me with that.
I was already starting to.. deteriorate within the first year. Armand said I was hard to teach, and our fights escalated. Not being mortal any more he stopped holding back on those… the fights.
I can’t tell you exactly when I snapped completely, or what the final straw was of that. I just did – snapped. Lost it. Lost myself. Unfortunately it wouldn’t be the first time.
This next song is a dedication from my blood spouse, @mirroredxmusings going out to ‘J Devil’, this is… [chuckles] Korn and “Blind”:
Welcome back to Late Night with Daniel Molloy, where I’m subjecting all of you to my own story tonight by interviewing myself.
I don’t recommend losing your mind if you can help it. Unfortunately that’s not typically something anyone chooses.
Eventually I ended up being taken in by my maker’s maker. Marius de Romanus. That notorious Child of the Millenia, proving every night for the last few centuries that you can take the man out of Rome but not Rome out of the man.
I know now, looking back… that I was sick for a very long time. Even some of the years I was deemed more or less ‘back in my right frame of mind’ I really wasn’t. I was out of my mind for… a long time. Late 80’s into the 2010s.
I was pretty crazy for almost 25 years. Took a long time to come back to myself to some degree or another.
And after all that time with Armand and how things had been with him? Being in Marius care… was so different. It felt like concern and care.
And when you’re not used to that? It’s easy to mistake for more.
Easy to call it love.
Even easier when you’re told that’s what it is. When.. the delusion is encouraged. Fed into. When you don't have anything better to measure it against.
Unfortunately, none of it was ever really about me. It was always, at the heart of it, about Armand. Picking me up and dusting me off and piecing me back together… just so I could be given back to my maker. Or used to entice him back to his own.
That was Madonna with “Live to Tell” and this is Late Night with Daniel Molloy.
It took me a while to extricate myself from all of that. From what I’d learned to call my life with Marius… and like my time with Armand, it didn’t happen cleanly or quickly. I left and went back. Then left again, and I meant it to be for good that second time.
Truth is… I probably would have continued that cycle for a long time, if my usual pattern of running and returning hadn’t been disrupted.
So what changed? I met Jory Davis for the first time here in Los Angeles in 2015. In a dance club when I was hunting.. and he completely disarmed me.
Then Jory and I connected again the second time I left Europe and Marius.
We were pretty inseparable after that. That was when I really started to understand what love is. Not the kind of love where someone wants you around because of what you can do for them.. but the kind where you’re seen, and being seen as worthy of love doesn’t require you to be in a constant state of destabilization. It’s when I started to get reconnected with myself too, and what I wanted out of eternal life.. the thing that had really been driving me after it from the start.
To have limitless time to do and experience… everything.
There’s so much in the world and as a mortal you get so little time to enjoy and savor it. The fear of running out of time when I was still living certainly didn’t ease any with the times. Being a gay man in the 80s and seeing the gay community dying off in droves during the AIDS crisis didn’t help lessen the feeling that it’ll all be over and done with before you know it, and you’ll have missed out on so much.
And I wanted more time to find someone I could connect with. Actually connect with. To find a partner. Somebody who I could be more than just a disappointment to. Somebody that would see me as more than just The Devil’s Minion.
I think anyone out there listening that’s found someone like that can understand it; that when it became clear that Jory was going to die if I didn’t do something, I had to do it, because he’s the one I found what I was looking for with.
So I made him my fledgling. I made him my blood spouse.
And then I lost my mind again. Under the weight of my own fear and ill-preparedness for doing something that important, the most important thing I’ve ever done. I never thought I’d make a fledgling. Not with how I am, with a history of being unwell.
I can’t even begin to describe the… terror of that. Taking the chance to save someone from one thing and not knowing if doing that is going to sign them up for a lifetime of insanity, if that’s something you can somehow pass on. And the fear of not knowing how to teach them the right way, because your own education in the blood was lacking. It sent me into a tailspin I couldn’t pull out of.
I lost my mind and abandoned my own fledgling for eight years. I lost my memory of him. Eight years in and out of the death sleep, sleeping and wandering lost and sleeping more, trying to figure out when I would wake up why there was so much pain, and going back to sleep.
I know to any one immortal out there that’s been around for a few centuries that probably doesn’t sound like very long. But time? Time is very precious to me because I’ve lost so much of it.
The last time I came out of the death sleep... I finally regained enough memory to remember him. To know what I’d done without meaning to do it, making my mortal lover into a vampire, making him with the intention of being eternal companions and then leaving him without warning or reason.
That was, is the worst realization I’ve ever had. The worst pain I’ve ever felt. Knowing I hurt him in a way that is so complete and devastating. Knowing that it’s something that I can’t go back and fix because even immortals don’t get do-overs like that.
The thing of it is, listeners… I know that in the world of immortals, that I’m just some pretty average guy that stumbled into this world by chance, and I don’t have centuries, or millenia of experiences or adventures to dazzle and entertain you with.
But in the realm of stories, maybe I can serve as a cautionary tale.
Don’t let your fear drive you. Because fear and horror of what I did almost sent me back in the ground after I remembered.
Choose love, even if it’s the harder route. Admit when you’ve made mistakes. Apologize for the harms you’ve caused, whether intention or unintentional… and even if you can’t go back and change the past… choose to make decisions going forward so you don’t repeat the same broken cycles you’ve done time and time again. Even if you’re doing it imperfectly, still do it.
Keep trying.
That was Elley Duhé and “I Lost My Mind” and this is Late Night with Daniel Molloy, where it’s time to wrap up this broadcast with the last of what I’ve got to say.
I found Jory again, as you longtime listeners already know well from my constant talk about him. [laughs] Companions and blood spouses again, figuring out what the future holds one night at a time, every night we choose to choose each other.
And every night I am still.. humbled and grateful more than I can ever say, that he forgave me for what happened. That he still loves me, even the parts of me that I still struggle sometimes to accept and manage.
That’s the other takeaway I’d like to hope that you folks listening can also take away from all of this; that love is the greatest force there is. Love is what’s keeping me anchored and present in the here and now. What drive me forward every night and motivates me to keep trying, to learn how to be stronger. For him and for myself.
Love is what I think could save us all, if we let it.
This is Loreen and “Forever”, and thanks again for joining me for another broadcast everyone. Good night.
















