REVIEW: The Brotherhood: Amour Magique

The Brotherhood: Amour Magique by Willa Okati


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
The first of The Brotherhood series is really a ficlet that introduces you to the world of Liam the Incubus and his band of Brothers.

Summary: The immortal incubus Liam’s friends call themselves “The Brotherhood”. The Brothers have the perennial problem of gay men everywhere: finding a hottie who’s a great lay but doesn’t turn out to be a loser or abuser afterwards. They’re down on their luck, and looking for love in all the wrong places.

Liam has a plan to get the Brothers happily hooked up…and provide some fresh, er, meat for his paranormal friends.

Amour Magique, where the gay paranormals hunt for love.

What I liked about this book: It's a great intro to a world that I hope she explores in greater detail in the remaining books. The series, I believe, is complete and this one introduces you to the demon behind the sexual exploration that you hope the others in the Brotherhood will soon be privy to.

Excerpt: Liam moved to one such spot on a small balcony overlooking the main dance floor, checking out the writhing and gyrating bodies below, every one of them weaving their life forces through the club like a tangle of blood vessels. He watched them dance, grope, everything but fuck to the pounding of the music, all as he sipped something toxically purple in a martini glass and waited. But not for long.

Silas Trichton, the owner of the club, appeared from a concealed doorway, nodded to the bartender up on the balcony, and waited for his glass of strong whiskey to appear with the deft and gentle touch the good server had. Just like the way magic should be. When his drink materialized at his elbow, he tipped two fingers to the apron-clad man who’d served it, took it in one hand, and went to greet the stranger on his private observation deck.

The man he’d come to meet -- Liam, Silas thought he was called -- glanced up at him, almost unconcerned at his approach, nodded once, and went back to gazing at the dance floor. Wondering what had him so fascinated, Silas looked down.

“Business as usual,” he said after a moment. “Good crowd for a Thursday night. Mostly college kids, though. Have to keep carding them, or so I hear.”

“You don’t say.” Liam sounded slightly amused, but his voice made Silas look at him with renewed speculation. It was a curious cocktail mix of several old-world accents infused with a taste of American flavor. “Why bother? They’ll get their strong drinks somehow. Speaking of which, I note you have a good Scotch, while I am drinking violet piss. Would there be a reason your ’tender served this noxious refreshment to me?”

Silas glanced at his bartender, who raised his shoulders in an eloquent shrug. “You’d rather have something stronger?” he ventured. “We can oblige. Murray, another single malt.”

They waited in silence for the highball glass to arrive, continuing to observe the dancers. “There,” the stranger said, pointing at two men, each with a hand down the back of the other’s tightly fitted pants. “Do you see? They make love with their hands, and no one notices. No one cares.”

Silas looked at the stranger oddly. “Yeah? You’re not a cop, are you?”
Liam laughed. “Hardly.”

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