Chapter One of The Reluctant Incubus (the whole chapter!)

The Reluctant Incubus is Book 1 of my debut gay urban fantasy duology, Alvin Alonso's Secret Files. I've been working on these books for over two years, and I'm excited to announce that both books will be released simultaneously on Amazon on November 10, 2025. You'll be able to read the whole story, all the way to its deeply satisfying Happy For Now conclusion.

The books have already gotten some great early reviews, but I've heard from more than a few readers that they'd love to read a longer excerpt of the book to get a feel for it. I've been posting up excerpts for my patrons here, but now I've decided to share all of Chapter One, in its entirety, for everyone to enjoy!

This story has humor, high-stakes, epic magic, and a gay underdog hero who just wants to help people. It's the kind of story I've wanted to read for years, so I wrote it myself. I really hope you like it!

Estimated reading time: 10 minutes

Contains mild language and fantasy violence.

Chapter One of The Reluctant Incubus

I am being hunted in broad daylight by an elven knight.

Of all the fae, elves are supposedly the fiercest warriors. They have the finest weapons, centuries of training, and a relentless drive to win. Mom always said if you want someone powerful dead, find an elf.

But in my case, he probably just wants to mug me.

I clocked him shortly after I left my local hipster café, carrying my boss’s Nitro Cold Brew with Bulletproof Upgrade in a cardboard tray. (I got myself an iced soy milk with a shot of vanilla, which should give you a hint of exactly how not badass I am.) It’s 8:30 a.m. in the Tenderloin—way too early for the drug dealers and hustlers to clutter the sidewalks, but all the regular working folks are out and getting ready for their day. I probably would have missed a normal tail in all that human noise, but an elf has so much magic, it’s like being snuck up on by a tornado of lightning. It doesn’t hurt that he has his sword out. And that it’s made of sharp, glittering ice that flurries a trail of snow. That kinda draws the eye.

I wonder for a second what the normals are seeing. The dude’s in actual shining armor. This is San Francisco, but he’s gone full snowy Renaissance Faire and not even the suits are giving him a second glance. His glamour must be on point.

But he’s not doing anything to hide from me, which is a flex—that kind of selective filtering takes some real power. He wants me to know he’s coming. He wants me to be scared.

I’d ask Why me? but the answer’s easy: Somehow he’s picked up on my incubus nature, and elves are notorious bullies. (At least according to my mom. I’ve never actually met one before, but the pointy ears and flawless skin are a dead giveaway.)

My apartment is between the coffee shop and my boss’s office. It’s only a couple blocks away, and he’s still several yards behind. If I booked it, I could probably make it to my lobby. Maybe I’d even get the door closed before he was through. But a bunch of families live in my building, and their kids hang out on the stairs. He’ll almost certainly be faster, and something tells me that Elf-With-Blade-Unsheathed wouldn’t want witnesses. And what’s a few dead humans to someone who can literally make himself invisible?

I know what my boss, Ms. Stryker, would do. She’d stop, turn, and confront him, right here, right now. Demand to know his purpose and give him hell if she didn’t like his answer. That’s what you’re supposed to do with bullies. Call their bluff. Make them put up or shut up.

I throw the cardboard tray down onto the curb and run like my ass is on fire.

I sprint past my apartment building toward Market Street. All the stores on this block are still closed and gated. Some restaurants are open, but there’s nothing to stop him from hurting people in there, either. My one chance is to get to the police station on Eddy Street. Almost no humans can use magic, and tax dollars don’t actually show up to work in my neighborhood, but San Francisco is a big city. They might have someone trained to handle supernatural threats. And anyway, it’s the freaking police! I don’t care how arrogant Lord-of-the-Rings-dude is, he’s still a paranormal—even he wouldn’t want that much attention, right?

A fed incubus can supposedly run over a mile a minute. A hungry one about half that. I’ve never fed, not even once, so my speed is the same as a normal human. A normal, kinda chubby, can’t-afford-a-gym-membership human.

I dodge around the actual normals, who don’t bother to get out of my way, and make it to Eddy. Without looking over my shoulder once (which takes serious willpower!), I even get around the corner. I focus fully on getting my short, little legs to pretend they’re Olympic material and kick into overdrive.

And it doesn’t matter in the least, because somehow the elf is already there. His hand slams into my throat, and he swings me up like I'm nothing. Rams my whole body against a brick wall. The friction yanks the fabric of my Old Navy polo shirt tight around my neck and causes one of the front buttons to rip halfway out. I’m five-foot-six in shoes. He’s well over six feet, and all of it looks like lean muscle. Wonder what gym he goes to?

At least he put his sword away.

“Alvin Alonso,” he says, his voice smooth as silk. “I need you to do something for me.”

My back’s on fire. The wind’s knocked out of me. He’s literally choking my throat. And he’s talking to me like I’m his secretary and it’s just another Friday morning. Of course, I’d be delighted to help you, Mr. Big-Strong-Fae—how can I offer you excellent service today?

Did I mention elves are notorious assholes?

I try to speak, and nothing but click-like choking noises come out of my mouth. It’s only then that he realizes his hand is stopping actual air from reaching my lungs.

“Oh. Yes. Of course,” he says, pouting like he’s just noticed gum on his shoe.

He releases my throat and drops that hand to my chest, letting my feet hit the ground. He’s still pinning me, but at least I can speak again. If I were Ms. Stryker, I’d be asking how the hell he knows my name. I mean, I’ve never met the dude, and that’s kind of a big deal, right? But the police station is just across the street. There are even three cops walking to the parking lot right this second. So instead, I yell my head off.

“Help! Help! Someone help! I’m being attacked! Help me!”

The police don’t look over. They don’t even slow their steps. The fae must have glamoured us both so tight, I could spontaneously combust and no one would notice. But the moment I start yelling, Elf Boy rears back his head and loosens his grip.

Well, heck, those pointy ears of his must be sensitive.

So I belt out full-blast, right in his face. “Get OFF me, you big fat jerk!” Then I knee him right in the balls.

Or, at least, I try to. I miss by at least several inches, and he has a codpiece anyway, but I am still able to get out from under him.

I start to run, but four steps in, he grabs me by the back of my khakis and yanks me up against the wall again. Wham! Then he’s on me, pinning me against the rough red brick with his whole body. You’d think that would really hurt, but it turns out elven plate mail is actually not pokey at all. I swear I can feel his muscles flexing through it. Just like I can feel his sweet, cool breath against my ear when he says, “Stop that.”

Despite being born a literal sex demon, I’m short and thick, with a moonlike face. He’s got the sleek silver hair, chiseled jaw, and drop-dead, conventionally gorgeous movie-star features of all the Winter fae. (Because there is no justice in this world.) This is as close as I’ve gotten to an attractive man in a long time, or ever, and I’m honestly so desperate it might be possible to find this whole thing kinda hot.

If he didn’t have a dagger pressed against my throat, that is.

He cocks his head to the side. “You’re very weak, even for an incubus, aren’t you?”

Nice.

Ignoring my glare, he continues. “I need you to get something for me. A watch. And I need you to do it tonight.”

“Oh, yeah? Why don’t you go get it yourself?!” (This is me trying to act tough.)

“I’m elven nobility, and that presents an insurmountable challenge for this task. My beauty and power attract notice wherever I go. If I were captured, the bounty my kidnappers could ask for would be immense, which makes me a constant target. The sheer power of my aura would set off the wards before I even reached the front door. Not to mention the fact that the current owner of this watch likely hid it in some deep hole that would be physically difficult for someone of my frame to navigate.”

My eyes narrow. “Wait. Are you saying you’re just too handsome, rich, powerful, and tall to do this?”

The elf smiles, pleased. “Yes. Exactly! And I need someone who is none of those things.”

“Screw you, Lord of the Rings! I’m not a hobbit!”

I try to twist out from under him without nicking my throat on his dagger and have as much success with that as you’d think I would.

Whatever. If what Mom’s goblin friend told me is right (and he wasn’t just making fun of me—real possibility), I should have a get-out-of-magical-bullshit-free card. One that even the fae are bound to obey.

I glare at the elf and try to sound like I mean business. “I don’t have to do anything for you. I’ve chosen to live a human life.”

The elf cocks a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve chosen to become a wizard. For money.”

Huh. So he knows I’m interning for Ms. Stryker. I haven’t even told Mom about that. I should probably find out how he knows so much, but I’m still hoping to talk my way out of this.

“Humans can use magic! A few, anyway!” I protest. “And it doesn’t matter. By royal decree, you aren’t allowed to mess with me.”

He smirks like I’m an amusing child, his green irises literally twinkling with mischief. “Your objection is noted. I’ll be sure to pass that on to the Dragon King the next time I see him.” He then presses his body harder against mine. “But I’m afraid my needs can’t wait.”

“Let go of me, you—you—!” I fumble for the biggest insult I can think of, but even though I might talk big in my head, the last time I actually swore out loud was, like, six years ago when I broke my toe against the bathroom scale.

“Or you’ll do what?” he asks, bringing his icy lips next to my ear, practically cooing.

He has me completely trapped. And even if he didn’t, he’s a million times stronger, and he knows it. I don’t need to speculate what a fae warrior like him thinks he’s entitled to do with an incubus like me to know how bad this could go.

My cheeks start to burn, and hot water stings my eyes. But I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of bursting into tears.

Instead, I look away and mumble helplessly, “But I’ve chosen a human life…” The words choke against the rawness of my throat, barely a whine.

The elf’s tone is cool. “And I’ve chosen something better for you.”

He steps back, releasing me. I guess he knows I won’t run away now. What’s the point?

I stare down at my shoes, defeated. “I’m not a thief. I can’t actually cast any spells, not yet. I have no real training, even as just a PI. I don’t know why you think I can get anything from anyone.”

“The watch is at a private residence, and the owner is… distracted. He will not be there tonight, and the doors will be unlocked. The only wards are noisemakers, and they are designed for big fish. Someone of your level won’t trigger them. To accomplish this task, all that is needed is an ability to detect magic, and my understanding is you are quite good at that. The enchantment in this watch is very special. You won’t have any trouble tracking it down.”

“What does it do?”

“It solves problems well above your station. You would be wise not to trouble yourself with such details.”

Right.

God, elves really are assholes.

“And what if I say no?” I gesture at the dagger in his hand. “You kill me?”

He chuckles and holsters the dagger in its scabbard at his waist. “Stars, no! I’m not a monster.” He glances over at the police station. “I’d merely turn you in to the authorities as a ‘malignant paranormal.’ My understanding is they’ve become quite thorough nowadays when it comes to locking down supernatural threats.”

Yeah, that would completely screw me over, all right. Until recently, governments didn’t know paranormals even existed, but about ten years ago that changed, and they aren’t happy about it. I haven’t dared to tell Ms. Stryker or any other human what I am. Even if I could convince the Feds I wasn’t an actual demon from hell—and that’s a big if—I’m sure I’d be kept on a short leash my entire life. I’d never be able to get a real human job. Best-case scenario, I’d have to work for them or something, locked away. More likely, considering how weak I am, they’d just use me for some kind of lab experiment, the kind where you dispose of the bodies after.

I don’t even bother asking him how he would turn me in and not get caught himself. He’s in full armor, assaulting someone in front of a police station. He’s not going to have any trouble staying off their radar.

I must look as miserable as I feel because he says, “There, there, Alvin. That’s merely the stick. Of course, if you’re successful, I will compensate you. When you bring me the watch, I will pay you thirty thousand US dollars. Nothing glamoured—real currency. Enough, I imagine, to get you that camera you’ve had your eye on, along with a fair amount of independence from your mother. At least for a time.”

Okay. Wow. I’m flat broke and my internship with Ms. Stryker is unpaid, so thirty thousand dollars would be a life-changing amount of money for me. There’s a lot that I’d do for thirty thousand dollars. Even though my boss thinks I’m too weak-sauce to teach any spells to, she did say that if I had my own camera, I might be able to help with the more normal PI cases. And that kind of cash could definitely get me out from under my mother’s thumb, which would be an even bigger deal. But how does he know all that?

“How do you know so much about me?”

He contemplates me blandly, like he’s reading a shopping list. “You take the same route back and forth to your internship every day. Go to the same grocery store every Saturday. Gaze longingly at the consumer electronics in the same Chinatown shop windows every Sunday. And you talk to your mother on the phone beside your open kitchen window at the end of every month when you become desperate for your next rent check. You are a creature of habit and desire, Alvin Alonso, and for my kind, that makes you a very open book.”

I grit my teeth. Maybe he is an asshole elf, but it might as well be Ms. Stryker lecturing me on security hygiene. I’m a paranormal with a lot to lose if I’m discovered, and I haven’t been careful. Of course I’m easy to blackmail!

Whether I learn how to cast spells or not, if I’m even a little bit serious about becoming a real paranormal investigator someday, I’ll need to get smarter. A lot smarter. That is, if I survive this insane heist I’ve gotten myself roped into.

The elf extends his hand, his smile broad. “So, do we have a deal?”

And there it is. Fae are legendary for their unbreakable bargains, and humans are terrified of accidentally getting trapped into one. (At least the few on the Internet who suspect such things exist.) But while you can be coerced, you can’t actually get tricked into a real Obligation—if you don’t truly understand what you’re agreeing to, it doesn’t count. And anyway, most humans don’t have enough magic to feel consequences if they did break a fae deal.

But for paranormals, like me, it’s another matter. Even if we’re never able to do anything with it, magic is intrinsic to what we are. Mother barely has a protective bone in her body, but she did make me swear up and down as a kid to never accept a deal with a fae. Not even for something small.

Well, looks like I’m going to find a whole new way to disappoint her. Yay.

I can at least try not to be completely stupid about it.

“You say the guy is not going to be there, and the doors are unlocked. You mean I can just walk in and take it? No guard dogs, security, or anything?”

“Well, I’d certainly recommend being more discreet than you usually are. You never know if the neighbors might be watching. But there should be nothing in the house that can cause you harm. I do need the watch, and I have no illusions about your ability to defend yourself.”

“Fair enough. Do other fae or anyone else you’re associated with know about me?”

“No. I’ve kept that information to myself. For now.”

“Great. Then if I do this, you have to promise you will never reveal my identity to anyone, or ever use what you know about me against me in any way. You get to play this blackmail card once, and never again.”

The elf smiles, mildly impressed. “That’s a very reasonable and wise addendum to our agreement, Alvin. I accept that stipulation, if you get me what I’ve asked for.”

It’s at least something. Supposedly the fae can lie, but they can’t break a deal. Ever.

I extend my hand. “I’ll get you your damn watch.”

We shake, and then I immediately feel it, like heavy chains falling onto my shoulders. The Obligation. I have knowingly given a fae my word, and now all the magic inside me (what little there is) has been bent to that purpose.

He hands me an address written in fine calligraphy on the back of a fancy hotel napkin. And before I can even ask him his name and how I’m going to get the watch to him, he vanishes into thin air.

Typical.

Whether I like it or not, I’m in it now. Normally, after a boring day sorting Ms. Stryker’s mail and answering her phone, I’d go home to scarf some Lean Cuisine on the couch and fall asleep in front of the TV. Looks like tonight, I’m going to steal a magical artifact for a fae.

And the weird thing is, there’s a part of me that’s actually looking forward to it.

[END OF CHAPTER ONE]

Would you like to read more?

Both books from Alvin Alonso's Secret Files will be released simultaneously on November 10 on Amazon which will give readers the complete duet to binge right away.

If you're interested in reading the full story for free and leaving a review on Amazon for launch day, I'm going to send out Advanced Review Copies for my ARC Team to download in early October.

Sign-up for my official ARC Team here: https://alexwoolfson.com/arc-sign-up

And if you just want to get the final version of the duology without any pressure to review? You can preorder here: https://amzn.to/4mn2J42

I really hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Thank you very much for your interest in my work!