Elliot Mabeuse

“He took her hand in his and kissed her fingers, then shook his head. “I wouldn’t have let you get away. I was angry and I acted foolishly, but I would have gotten you back. Whatever it took, I would have gotten you back. You’re my answer, Zoe. You’re my salvation.”

“Her arousal shocked her. It went against everything she believed in to act like a man’s slave and yet this was different. Just like her sexuality was his creation, this erection was hers. She owned it, she’d given it life.”

“For that's what sex is about ultimately - communion, ultimate communion, the fusing of two beings into one, their feelings, emotions, hearts, minds and souls, and whether it's done with kisses and caresses or whips and chains, it doesn't matter in the end.”

“Touch speaks to us on levels, so much deeper than the intellect can comprehend, going to the root of us, to levels of comprehension we can't ignore.”

“I think we live our lives in other people's hearts and minds. Alone by ourselves we're not very much good at all. But when we let someone else in with their stories and all their sights and sounds and songs and smells and sensations, we suddenly start building up libraries, filling boxes and drawers with them, books and shelves and chests...”

“I so love this song and I so love to dance with a woman I love. Moving your body together with someone you love trough artistically structured time is one of the more beautiful things human beings do.”

“She was beautiful, heratbreakingly beautiful - her eyes and her lips, the stripes on her naked breasts, her vulnerabilty.”

“... the slightest smile on her face, almost a smugness, as if she had some secret arrangement with my body that I'd never understand, something dark and faminine and private and it excited me to think that she might know some part of me so well, so instinctively.”

“A kind of sensual darkness began to absorb me and the words began to spill out beyond my control.”

“Intellect is eighty percent of the mind trying to get the body laid.”

“but when i write, i feel like the most important man in the world, because when i write, i give meaning to things. i create significance, and i create meanings, and as hard as that may for you to believe, that's really even more important in the long run than life and death.”

“I don't know you very well, and i'm almost afraid to know you better. Maybe i love you because i don't know you. Maybe if i knew what you were really like and what you wanted out of life and what you think is important, I wouldn't care for you at all and that would be the end of this.”

“yes. Menace and danger, That's what passion is-dangerous love-love that put you at risk, that gets a hold of you and makes you do things you wouldn't normally do. It's the only love worth having..”

“Son of a bitch! I own your place! I’m your host. Is this how you repay me? By stealing my woman?” The spirit stopped and turned. “No one owns me,” he said. “I go where I will.” “Yeah well I’ll fill in your fucking pond and build a goddamned parking lot! How would you like that? Huh? I‘ll build condos. I’ll tear up the whole damned forest and pave it over!” The spirit stopped and regarded him. Angus swept the rain from his face as he waited for the spirit’s reply, the two of them hovering in the storm.”

“He tried to make it seem that he had stopped for some dirty talk and to savor the moment, but Anne knew that he was temporarily out of breath, that he’d started out too fast, trying to impress her.”

“Well he’ll not get her, will he?” Angus exclaimed. “He’s just some little pond sprite. He can’t do anything out of the water, right? He’s powerless. I’ll get her out of here! We’ll go in to Glasgow or…” Ian sighed. “Come on, Angus. It’s not as simple as all that. This is an Elemental you’re dealing with. You’d have to take her to the center of the freaking Sahara to get away from him, and even then he’d probably make it rain. He’s in every damned faucet and kitchen tap all over the world. She takes a bath and he’ll pull her under!” Angus stared at him angrily. “It’s fucking happened!” Ian said.”

“And as she looked at the pool she saw the waters gather up into a column, rushing up foaming and standing there before her startled eyes, and turn into the form of a man. Not a man, a god. So perfectly formed, so handsome, with such wisdom and desire in his eyes and such quiet joy on his lips. He was breathtakingly beautiful and Anne felt herself grow weak with some unnamable longing. His eyes met hers and caught her soul tight, and she could not look away as he read every thought in her mind. “Come,” he said to her in a voice like liquid silver, “I know your mind, and it is one with mine.” Anne could not speak, but she did not need to. Her eyebrows raised in question. He laughed, “Why to love, of course.”

“Oh Angus,” she moaned. “Can’t you just use your…you know…your powers to clean this up?” Angus was walking to the kitchen, wiping his face with a napkin. He laughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked. “‘Mess: Clean yourself up!’ ‘Floor, sweep yourself and be quick about it! Anne Commands!’ No, Darling, I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that! Not like that at all!”

“When a wisp of fog blew by her she laughed and reached out her hands to it. When the wind blew she turned to it and opened her bodice, letting it caress and kiss her breasts, for she never knew when it might be him, and still she wanted nothing more than to please him utterly.”