When I originally sat down to think about writing the first book of the Alvin Alonso duology, The Reluctant Incubus, I had plenty of story ideas but nothing that really lit me up. That changed when I was on vacation in San Diego, reading Kai Butler’s San Amaro MM urban fantasy series. Reading that story reminded me how much I loved Jim Butcher’s The Dresden Files—a fast-paced urban fantasy with high stakes and witty banter featuring a young wizard detective. I loved reading those books, except for one thing: they were always told through a very straight-male gaze.
And I thought: what if I created a series like The Dresden Files, but with a gay hero?
From the start, my main goal was to write a story that would be fun like Jim Butcher’s books—something fast-paced, full of magical action, and packed with laugh-out-loud moments. That’s when Alvin, my 22-year-old reluctant incubus, came into focus. He’s a guy who faces dangerous situations with self-deprecating humor, and who gets knocked down but keeps getting back up. I loved the idea of throwing him into wild adventures, letting him go toe-to-toe with an arrogant elf and bloodthirsty vampires, and watching him try to outwit forces way more powerful than he is.
Why the story is personal for me
At the same time, Alvin’s struggles also carry a deeper meaning for me. Alvin is an incubus, a literal sex demon, and so people assume he is defined by sex—just like society often tries to define gay men in narrow, harmful ways. But Alvin rejects that. Instead, he wants to use his unusual gifts to help people. He starts out as an underdog with very little power, but with a strong will to do good anyway. That struggle—to not be what others expect, and to try to help in spite of doubts—was deeply personal to me. As a young gay man, I often felt the world wanted me to believe I was a monster. Like Alvin, I had to decide to define myself differently.
I drew on all my favorites for this
As I started to outline the book, the rest of the cast came together. I took inspiration from some of my other favorite stories—Limitless, The Good Place, and even The Dresden Files’ Bob the Skull—to create Alvin’s first love interest Collin, a magical “Avatar of Knowledge” trapped in a watch. Collin can feed Alvin vital information straight into his head, but he also has a lively personality and his own agenda, which made every interaction fun for me to write. And because I like making things especially challenging for my heroes, I then gave Alvin a hot but deadly monster-hunter ally who becomes another love interest. Their growing closeness adds both danger and the potential for growth, as Alvin struggles to figure out how much of himself he can safely reveal, and how much this new bond might change him.
In the end, The Reluctant Incubus grew out of all the stories I love, combined with my own journey of self-acceptance. It’s an action-packed urban fantasy with magic, danger, and romance—but at its heart, it’s about a hero who chooses to be good, even when the world expects the worst.
When I originally sat down to think about writing the first book of the Alvin Alonso duology, The Reluctant Incubus, I had plenty of story ideas but nothing that really lit me up. That changed when I was on vacation in San Diego, reading Kai Butler’s San Amaro MM urban fantasy series. Reading that story reminded me how much I loved Jim Butcher’s The Dresden Files—a fast-paced urban fantasy with high stakes and witty banter featuring a young wizard detective. I loved reading those books, except for one thing: they were always told through a very straight-male gaze.
And I thought: what if I created a series like The Dresden Files, but with a gay hero?
From the start, my main goal was to write a story that would be fun like Jim Butcher’s books—something fast-paced, full of magical action, and packed with laugh-out-loud moments. That’s when Alvin, my 22-year-old reluctant incubus, came into focus. He’s a guy who faces dangerous situations with self-deprecating humor, and who gets knocked down but keeps getting back up. I loved the idea of throwing him into wild adventures, letting him go toe-to-toe with an arrogant elf and bloodthirsty vampires, and watching him try to outwit forces way more powerful than he is.
Why the story is personal for me
At the same time, Alvin’s struggles also carry a deeper meaning for me. Alvin is an incubus, a literal sex demon, and so people assume he is defined by sex—just like society often tries to define gay men in narrow, harmful ways. But Alvin rejects that. Instead, he wants to use his unusual gifts to help people. He starts out as an underdog with very little power, but with a strong will to do good anyway. That struggle—to not be what others expect, and to try to help in spite of doubts—was deeply personal to me. As a young gay man, I often felt the world wanted me to believe I was a monster. Like Alvin, I had to decide to define myself differently.
I drew on all my favorites for this
As I started to outline the book, the rest of the cast came together. I took inspiration from some of my other favorite stories—Limitless, The Good Place, and even The Dresden Files’ Bob the Skull—to create Alvin’s first love interest Collin, a magical “Avatar of Knowledge” trapped in a watch. Collin can feed Alvin vital information straight into his head, but he also has a lively personality and his own agenda, which made every interaction fun for me to write. And because I like making things especially challenging for my heroes, I then gave Alvin a hot but deadly monster-hunter ally who becomes another love interest. Their growing closeness adds both danger and the potential for growth, as Alvin struggles to figure out how much of himself he can safely reveal, and how much this new bond might change him.
In the end, The Reluctant Incubus grew out of all the stories I love, combined with my own journey of self-acceptance. It’s an action-packed urban fantasy with magic, danger, and romance—but at its heart, it’s about a hero who chooses to be good, even when the world expects the worst.