The Fox is in the House

and so is the witch.  My summer has been divided into “before July 17” and “after July 17,” but the date around which my summer has revolved is finally here. Fox’s Folly is live at last!

And here’s a  hot excerpt for your reading pleasure! (It’s a little naughty, so I’ve hidden it in case you’re at work and need to wait for a safe moment.)

Tag’s voice was thick. He stepped closer to Paul. “Your magic feels like doing shots of tequila. Naked. In a hot tub. With Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt groping me. Only it’s not them. It’s you. The magic’s part of you, and it was touching me everywhere. Please…”

He took one shaky step closer.

“This isn’t the time…” Paul started to say, trying to force his brain to override the urgent demands of his body. Oh Lord and Lady, Tag, young as he was, had a bit of white hair among the russet thatch on his chest, just where the white vee appeared in his fox form, and it was dead sexy. Paul never been particularly into hairy guys, but running his fingers through the red curls on Tag’s chest and following the thinner line down to the darker, wilder curls from which his cock thrust hard and hungry… Now, that was another story. “Not with a demon…”

Then his magic flared up like Fourth of July fireworks on the autumn day. The rest of the room vanished to his sight as if it hadn’t been there in the first place, and all he could see was Tag. Tag’s body, Tag’s face, Tag’s aura. Literally all he could see. The energy pouring off the fox dual was so strong and bright it blinded him to everything else. Tag’s aura was as beautiful as his body, the same clear reddish brown as his fur in fox-form, now laced with the healthy scarlet of desire and to, to Paul’s delight and amazement, something more, something that looked like trust and affection.

Screw being reasonable and practical. Better yet, screw Tag, or let Tag screw him, or some delicious variation on that theme.

Paul was shaking. The magic pumped through him so strongly that he bumped into the glass-topped metal table because he couldn’t perceive something machine-made that had never been alive. Over his feeble attempts to be reasonable, Paul’s magic and intuition roared a few vital things.

One: Tag was in danger. His brilliant aura would be way too tempting to the energy-eating demon.

Two: To protect Tag, let alone banish the demon, Paul needed to recharge his powers. Far from the earth and ocean he knew best and surrounded by concrete, steel and plastic, far from hearth, home and the heart represented by his vast, loving, aggravating family, the best way to do that would be through red magic. Sex with the gorgeous fox—someone he’d come to genuinely like and respect as well as desire in their short acquaintance—would raise enough power to light up Las Vegas, let alone light up one demon and send it back where it belonged.

And three, oh yes, three, the most important one of all: There was no way on earth or the Other Side that Paul could resist this man any longer. He could think of a dozen reasons why they shouldn’t take the time to fall into bed—but about a million why they should, all of them translating to a need so raw it surpassed words.

He reached Tag. Somehow both a nanosecond and a lifetime had elapsed between seeing Tag emerge magnificently naked and now, now when his hands were on Tag’s hot-velvet skin, and Tag was doing his best to touch him everywhere simultaneously.

“I want you naked,” Tag breathed into the ear he’d been nibbling, and his voice was honey and bourbon and smoke, the genteel South and an animal’s growl all at once. “Want you naked and leaning over the bed and ready for me.”

“Lube…night stand. Condoms too.”

“Don’t need condoms. We can’t catch or carry human diseases, and you can’t catch most of our bugs, except maybe mange.”

Right. Paul had known that, but his higher brain functions had evaporated. He even needed Tag’s help to shuck his clothes. Okay, he wanted Tag’s help for that, but buttons and zippers seemed unduly challenging. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around, that duals stopped being able to think clearly when they got lost in sexual pleasure and red witches stayed in control, riding the energy?

Tag seemed in control this time, though, and Paul was more than happy to go wherever Tag would take him. Wherever that might be, Paul was sure the trip would feed the magic—and the hungry lust that made him feel a wary sympathy for their incubus foe—just fine.

PS: Comment for a chance to win a copy of the book!