(If you’re interested, you may want to read my previous post “Fingers Crossed”. Otherwise, never mind. This won’t make any sense to you.) Well, she’s in my kitchen cooking pancit. I love pancit. If she didn’t like me she would be cooking dinuguan. She knows I find that repulsive. I have a feeling I’m in for another grilling with many uncomfortable questions.
You may ask… “Isabella, if the woman you hope to lie in sin with is in the kitchen, why are you typing on WordPress?” And I may answer… “because while I do know the way to my kitchen, I personally only use it for storage of products to microwave and to keep my white wines cool. Plus the cook is a very focused person who brooks no idiots hovering around the stove.”
So here I sit. I just finished my research on succubi for my next book. I had to figure out how to capture and kill the buggers. Of course, you can’t kill them, really… you can only remove them from this plane. (plain?).