Angels are androgynous, and above the baser cravings of humankind.
However, in the Book of Enoch, we meet the Grigori or Watchers.
Angels were considered sexless and above reproach, which presented a challenge to the church—to explain how they mated with mortal women. The thirteenth-century Bishop of Paris adopted a typical compromise. According to his theory, there were nine orders of angels but it was a separate one, the tenth that fell. These Sons of God saw the Daughters of Man and, we are told in Genesis 6, lusted after seductive flesh and took themselves wives from among them.
This was an efficient solution to a theological catch twenty-two—the difficulty in reconciling a theology that insisted angels were sexless with evidence from the Scriptures showing these lusty celestials enthusiastically proving the opposite.
In angelic lore, the Grigori are nearer in form, genes and sexual interest to human beings, and that they had a genuine friendship and desire to teach humankind the secrets of Heaven. Azazel, the protagonist in my Night Before Doomsday taught women the arts of seduction—makeup, how to dress, etc. He also taught men the skill of making weapons.
By the fourth century, the ten leaders of the Grigori, once illustrious angels, were all listed as fallen. Of the two hundred angels who descended to Earth, nine-tenths fell to lust, siring the Nephilim. The Bible has this to say about the Nephilim: The Nephilim were on the earth in those days—and also afterward—when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown.
Anyone who has seen Supernatural or the short-lived series The Fallen will be familiar with TV’s version of the Nephilim.
The Night Before Doomsday, an alternate history, is the tale of the Grigori told in first person from the leader Azazel’s POV. The picture to the right is the sigil (a mark given at his creation to each angel) of the angel Azazel. The sigil and the characters of any angel, light or dark, are used in alchemy to summon that angel. There were nights when I was writing The Night Before Doomsday and I, Azazel, an as yet unpublished novel, when the hair at my nape would stir, and I’d curl closer in my bed.
Blurb: The angels sent to Earth to teach Mankind how to survive after Eden lost heaven to lust—or was it love? Azazel fights temptation until the wrong woman comes along.
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.
I wheeled, tossing a command over my shoulder. “Back to work. Embroidery I think.”
A chorus of groans rose from the women.
Fighting a smile, I folded my arms across my chest and faced them. “I know you love the fine, detailed work—”
"Sometimes you act like a brother, Azazel.” Mary laughed. “A very overbearing brother."
I smiled, tucked blonde hair behind her ear. “You’re all my sisters…in a way.”
A sly smile parted Ruth’s lips. She winked at me. “Then the other angels, we’re their sisters too?” She danced backwards, pointing at Mary. In a sing-song voice, she accused, “Mary has lain with her brother.”
The petite blonde’s cheeks flamed. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but no excuse or denial interrupted the stillness. On a cry, she fled the field.
“Ruth,” I scolded, “you mustn’t say such things.”
She shrugged. “Tis true. Your brothers have gone into women.”
You’ve made them more beautiful for us. Amarazak’s words echoed in my ears.
Ruth stroked my wing. “Do you have a lover, Azazel?”
Desire and heat blazed through me. I yearned for her to continue caressing my wing. If she did, I would pull her to me…Stop.
“No.” I bent, retrieved a skein from the ground and handed the fine blue thread to her. “I am your teacher.” My gaze brushed each pretty face. I shrugged. “Too many from which to choose.”
It was true, wasn’t it? If the choice were mine, I didn’t know which I’d take to my bed. What was I thinking? Love was one thing; lust quite another.
Ana caught a wingtip, spun me to face her. “Thank you, Azazel, thank you. I’ve always dreamed what it would be like to fly. I’m sorry I spoiled it.”
“I shouldn’t have flown so high.”
“Take me! Take me. I want to go flying!”
Quiet at the center of the cacophony of voices, 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.
The Night Before Doomsday is available from Amazon for $.99.
Visit my website http://lindanightingale.com for Vampyre Hunt, a sexy vampire read.