*or Why I don’t have Guest Bloggers*

“So  Gabriel, may I call you Gabriel?” I swing my leg nervously, not at all at ease with my interviewee.

“You can call me whatever you want.”  He gives me his wickedest grin, probably the same grin he used to seduce Sera.

“Dear Heavens, Sera never stood a chance, did she?”  I ask with a frown.

“I tend to get what I want. And Sera got what she wanted to, ” he quipped giving me another engaging grin.

“How does an Incubus — do you mind if I refer to you as an Incubus –no? Good. How do you chose your…quary?”

“I prefer to think of them as chosen,” he says, narrowing his eyes.  “And if I tell you, I have to kill you. But I have friends. Maybe, I could send one to visit you some time.

Tired of the chit chat, (and of feeling a bit mouselike) I cut to the chase. “So, Gabriel did you really give up heaven and earth for…sex?”

He slowly leans forward and licks his lips. His tongue is nearly as mesmerizing as those cocoa brown eyes.  “Wouldn’t you?”

“Damn…tough call that.”

And now a special excerpt of my critique partner, Raine Weaver’s LooseID release, Incubus

Gabriel lapsed into his wickedest grin, biting the tip of his thumb. “I’ll be damned. Lady, either your subconscious has decided to assert itself  or you’ve got yourself an incubus.”

“Beg pardon?”

He watched her pace nervously around the living room, as she had the entire time she’d told her story. “An incubus. A demonic figure found in several of the world’s mythologies. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, he was actually reputed to be a fallen angel. Fallen because of an insatiable lust for women.”

She stopped, hands on hips, and glared at him.  “You are making this up.”

“I’m not.” He could’t help laughing. “Check it out. Look it up for yourself. And then imagine giving up Heaven itself for the taste of a woman’s body.”

He lowered his voice for dramatic impact. “People say they come at night. That they haunt the perimeters between waking and dreams, where the soul is vulnerable, the body easily persuaded. That they know exactly the right approach, the exact touch… the suggestive whisper to sway you. That they indulge in sex with their sleeping victims, and the victims are often unaware of what has happened to them. Or they come in the guise of someone who will be irresistible to their quarry.”  He moistened his lips with his tongue. “They say the sex is soooo good that the poor woman couldn’t care less who or what the incubus is…as long as he doesn’t stop.”
You can read another excerpt at RaineWeaver.com