Welcome to Mary's Garden! We're going to have a treat today. We have report John Magee here from Ireland to interview an angel! Fill your plate goodies and grab a beverage then find a seat. Let's begin.
Welcome John Magee of the Dublin Evening Post, he will be interviewing the angel Azazel about his mission to Earth.
Azazel: I have no surname. Like all of my brothers, I have only the one name. I would venture to say that surnames are the invention of Man. As you multiplied and became plentiful upon the Earth, perhaps, surnames were a way to distinguish between individuals. From my research, it would appear that the Irish surname O’Cleirgh (O’Clery) is the first known European surname.
Magee: Can you explain what the Grigori is? And what exactly are the Nephilim?
The Grigori are sons of God, or angels if you wish. We are members of the Tenth Order, like the Order of Dominions, the Cherubim or the Thrones.
There are three Triads.
Highest Triad: Seraphim, Cherubim, and the Thrones.
Middle Triad: Dominions, Virtues, and Powers
Lowest Triad: Principalities, Archangels, and Angels
The Grigori are of the Lowest Triad, thus closer to the mortal realm. We are the angels sent to Earth to teach His Children of Clay. We are mentioned in the Book of Enoch and in the modern Bible in Genesis 6.2, one reference remains “that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all that they chose.”
The Nephilim were our sons. They became a scourge upon Man and the Earth and the Great Flood was sent to eradicate their evil. To this day, it is difficult to talk of my son, Rephaim, and to think about our children who turned against us. They were our punishment, the Great Flood theirs.
Magee: Can you tell us a little about why you are on this mission?
Azazel: Two hundred bene Elohim descended on the mount in the human settlement of Kharsag. We were sent by their Father—and our Father—to teach these refugees from Eden how to survive in a less than hospitable clime.
What does it entail?
Amazarak taught dividing of the roots and sorcery. Armers revealed the solution of sorcery. Barkayal instructed the observers of the stars. I gave the Eves, the women, the fabrication of mirrors, the workmanship of bracelets and ornaments, and the beautification of paint. My worst crime against Heaven was teaching Man the making of weapons and the strengthening of metals.
Magee: What happened to your brothers? Why do you think you resisted where they did not?
Azazel: For my crimes, I was bound hand and foot and buried in the desert at Dudael until Judgment Day. As you can see, I escaped. My brother Semyaza, the other leader of the Watchers as we were called, was hung upside down in the stars to contemplate his folly. He, too, is free, but I have not seen him since Kharsag. Nine-tenths of the heavenly teachers fell, Mr. Magee. The rest returned Home to sing at the Throne. Allow me to say here that the worst punishment for an angel is to be banished from the Light.
Thank you, Azazel, for sharing your story. The Daily’s readers will enjoy your tale.
“The Night Before Doomsday,” from Four By Moonlight
An anthology of love in the moonlight…in the paranormal universe.
“Gypsy Ribbons” – A moonlight ride on the moors and meeting a notorious highwayman will forever change Lady Virginia Darby’s life.
“Star Angel” – Lucy was stuck in a rut and in an Idaho potato patch. She’d seen him in the corner of her eye—a fleeting glimpse of beauty—now he stood before her in the flesh.
“The Night Before Doomsday” – All his brothers had succumbed to lust, but Azazel resisted temptation until the wrong woman came along.
“The Gate Keeper’s Cottage “– Newlywed Meggie Richelieu’s mysterious, phantom lover may be more than anyone, except the plantation housekeeper, suspects.
Excerpt from “The Night Before Doomsday”:
Eyes lined with charcoal as I’d taught them, lips rouged by my own hand mocked me. A bold hand slid beneath my robe, up my thigh, and gripped my shaft. The hot vibration deep inside trembled along my organ, growing longer and stiff.
Like a spider's web touched by a candle's flame, memories of Home shriveled.
Gentle Magdalene smoothed the hair back from my face, staring at my shocked expression. “Oh, Azazel.” A fingertip traced my cheek. “Did we hurt you?”
“No.” I clamored to my feet, bewildered by the feelings torturing me.
None would meet my gaze. Lord of Hosts, if they were afraid of me, I was doubly afraid of them. I’d never felt desire or the effect passion had on the body. If I had experienced sexual longings, I’d ignored them. Now, I could no longer pretend. My body yearned for something I’d believed to be the province of Man and the beasts.
Ruth winked a painted eyelid. In her dark eyes, amusement twinkled.
“Ungrateful rabble.” I tossed my hair back and folded my wings around me, brushing the dust from my feathers. “I make you alluring. You repay me by rolling me in the dirt and trying to tickle me to death.”
“You’re an angel.” Ruth undulated her shoulders. The lush breasts pointed at me swayed. “You can’t die.”
Oh, but I was dying. More than they could possibly know. Dying to touch them, dying for them to touch me, caress me there again. Before my face revealed forbidden desire, I schooled my expression stern.
Ruth stared at me.
Red lips smiling...perfect white teeth...black hair falling over her face....
She flung herself into my arms, covered my startled gasp with a hungry mouth. A warm tongue plunged into me. I went rigid, considered shoving her away, but a sensation like pain tightened in me. A need, that I’d never experienced, pulsed between my legs. I surrendered totally to feeling.
“Ruth, get off him.” Magdalene’s voice sliced through the haze of passion. “Why do you do these things? Help me get her off him, Ana. Azazel doesn’t ask for favors. Help me, Elwen. It’s not funny anymore.”
Like a blanket, they plucked the heat of Ruth's body off mine. Ana’s gaze swept down me. Her eyes widened. Mortified, I gaped at the tent in my angelic robe. I had an erection. Men not angels got hard. The girls stared at me. No, they were staring at the long weapon I couldn’t control.
“So the chaste Azazel falls.” Ruth laughed and, thank God, my erection wilted.
Linda Nightingale is a native-born South Carolinian who has lived in England and Canada, and now resides in Texas. Before turning to writing, she bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses for thirteen years.
In 2012, her novel, Gemini Rising, was voted Best Mainstream Novel in the Preditors & Editors Readers Poll. Her vampire romance, Cardinal Desires won the Georgia Romance Writers Magnolia Award for Excellence and a manuscript then titled I, Lucifer won the SARA Merritt Award. Her science fiction romance, Love for Sale, was awarded Best SF/Fantasy novel of 2015 by the Paranormal Romance Guild’s Reviewer’s Choice, and also voted one of the Top Ten Romance Novels of 2015 by the Preditors & Editors Readers Poll for that year.
Four by Moonlight is her first novel for Class Act Books.
Find out more about Linda at:
Publisher's website at http://www.classactbooks.com
Thank you, Linda, for visiting Mary's Garden I hope you visit again.