Richelle Mead - Succubus Blues (Georgina Kincaid, Book 1)

First and foremost, I have to thank all the friends and family who continually supported me and loved me throughout my writing adventures. In particular, this book could never have been written without my husband, Michael. Considering how often we talked about Georgina and her neuroses in our household, you might as well be married to her too. I love you.

Gratitude must also go to the Original Richelle Fan Club: Michael, David, Christina, and Marcee. You guys dutifully accepted every page I thrust at you and faithfully humored my demands for instantaneous feedback. Your enthusiasm and encouragement kept me going. Dont worry Harbinger will get published one day. Honest. I mean it.

Finally, I need to give a shout-out to the literary and publishing folks who kept me on-track: Kate McKean, Jim McCarthy, and John Scognamiglio. Thank you so much for your guidance and advice.

C aseys out sick, Paige told me briskly, putting on her coat. So youll probably have to cover for her on the registers.

Its no problem. I leaned against her office wall. Keeps things interesting, you know?

Pausing, she gave me a brief smile. I really appreciate you coming in like thison such short notice. She patted her stomach absentmindedly. Im sure its nothing, but Ive had this pain all day

No, its fine. Go. You have to take care of yourself. You have to take care of both of you.

She smiled at me again, picking up her purse and walking to the door. Dougs skulking around here somewhere if you need help, so make him do it. Hmmthere was one other thing I needed to tell youOh yeahtheres something for you in your office. I left it on your chair.

Butterflies shot through my stomach at her words. W-what is it?

Youll have to see. Ive got to go.

I followed Paige out of her office and turned uncertainly into my own. The last thing left on my chair had been an envelope from Roman, one more piece in his twisted game of love and hate. Oh God, I thought. I knew it wouldnt be as easy as Carter had said. Romans back, starting it all up again, waiting for me to

I stared, swallowing a gasp. The Glasgow Pact sat on my chair.

Gingerly, I picked up the book, handling it like fine china. It was my copy, the one I had given Seth to sign over a month ago. Id forgotten all about it. Opening up the inside cover, I saw lavender rose petals fall out. There were only a handful of them, but they were more precious to me than any of the bouquets Id received this month. Trying to catch them, I read:

To Thetis,

Long overdue, I know, but very often the things we most desire come only after much patience and struggle. That is a human truth, I think. Even Peleus knew that.

Seth

Hes back, you know.

Huh? I looked up from the baffling inscription to see Doug leaning against the doorframe.

He nodded toward my book. Mortensen. Hes up in the caf again, typing away as usual.

I closed the book, holding it tightly with both hands. Dougare you up on your Greek mythology?

He snorted. Dont insult me, Kincaid.

Thetis and Peleusthey were Achilles parents, right?

Indeed they were, he told me, smug with the confidence of his area of expertise.

For my part, I was simply puzzled. I didnt really get the inscription or understand why Seth would reference the Trojan Wars greatest warrior.

Do you know the rest? Doug asked me expectantly.

What? That Achilles was a dysfunctional psychopath? Yeah, I know that.

Well, yeah, everyone knows that. I mean the really cool part. About Thetis and Peleus. I shook my head, and he continued, professor-like, Thetis was a sea nymph, and Peleus was a mortal who loved her. Only, when he went to woo her, she was a real bitch about it.

How so?

She was a shape-shifter.

I nearly dropped the book. What?

Doug nodded. He approached her, and she turned into all sorts of shit to scare him offwild animals, forces of nature, monsters, whatever.

Whatwhatd he do?

He held on. Grabbed her and wouldnt let go through all of those terrible transformations. No matter what she turned into, he just held on.

Then what? I could barely hear my own voice.

She finally turned back into a woman and stayed a woman. Then they got married.

I had stopped breathing somewhere around the word shape-shifter. Still clutching the book, I stared off into space, a great winged feeling swelling in my chest.

You all right, Kincaid? Christ, youve been weird lately.

I blinked, tuning back in to reality. The feeling in my chest burst out, launching into glorious flight. I started breathing again.

Yeah. Sorry. Ive just had a lot on my mind. Forcing levity, I added, Ill do my best not to be too weird from now on.

Doug looked relieved. Coming from you, that might be a long shot, but heres to hoping.

Yes, I agreed, smiling. Heres to hoping.

Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of Richelle Meads next Georgina Kincaid novel coming in January 2008 from Kensington Publishing!

D emons are scary.

No matter what religion or walk of life you come from, this remains pretty constant. Oh sure, they have their absurd momentsespecially in the circles I run withbut all in all, people have good reason to fear and avoid hells diabolical servants. Theyre cruel and merciless, delight in pain and suffering, and torture souls in their free time. They lie. They steal. They cheat on their taxes.

Yet, in spite of all that, I couldnt help but think I was about to witness the most terrifying demonic act yet.

An awards ceremony. For me.

Horatio, Vice Demon of such-and-such division of Infernal Affairs, stood before me, trying to impart an air of solemnity to the moment and failing miserably. I suspected his sky blue polyester suit and matching paisley bow tie were largely to blame. The sideburns didnt help either. He probably hadnt left the inner circles of hell in about six centuries, back around the last time sky blue polyester was in style.

With a too-long clearing of his throat, he glanced back and forth between those gathered, verifying we all paid attention. My supervisor Jerome stood nearby, looking utterly bored, occasionally glancing at his watch. Beside him, Horatios impish assistant Kasper grinned from ear to ear. A briefcase sat on the floor near him, and he clutched an assortment of papers. The eager, sucking-up lapdog look on his face indicated a burning desire for promotion.

As for mewell, I was fighting a hard battle to look excited tooand failing. Which was unacceptable, of course. Im a succubus. My entire existence relies on making peoplemen in particularbelieve and see what they want to in me. I can switch from simpering virgin to sultry dominatrix in a heartbeat. All it takes is a bit of shape-shifting and a dash of playacting. Id picked up the former ability when I traded away my human soul; Id acquired the latter over time. After all, you cant spend centuries telling every guy, Yeah baby, you were the best Ive ever had and not learn a little something about schmoozing. Myths may paint us as ethereal, demonic creatures of pleasure, but honestly, being a succubus just comes down to a convincing poker face and a good sales pitch.

So, really, this awards thing shouldnt have been a problem for me. But Horatio wasnt making it easy to keep a straight face.

Verily, it gives me great honor to be here today, he intoned in a nasally, baritone voice.

Verily?

Hard work is what makes us great, and we gather here now to recognize one who has shown dedication and given her all to the Greater Evil. Such individuals are what make us strong, what will allow us to win in this immense battle when all tallies are counted at the end of time. Such individuals are worthy of our esteem, and we strive to reward their commitment, letting all know just how important it is to push hard against the odds and fight for our objectives in these difficult times.