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Julia Talbot: Book of Love
Wednesday, July 1st, 2015

Hey y’all!

Thanks so much to Delilah for letting me take over her blog today! I need to chat about my new book. NEED to. It’s my first release with my newest publisher, Samhain. It’s a MMF menage where everyone touches. It’s about small town Colorado, a porny old book, and three hot people who get even hotter for each other.

Here’s the official blurb.

jtbook-of-love

Dark magic draws them together, but they’re generating sparks all on their own.

Culper, Colorado, is a one-everything town. One stoplight. One post office-slash-pawn shop-slash-bakery. And one bookstore, which Shiloh volunteers to watch while the owner is on vacation. It’s a nice change of pace to her lonely life.

While perusing the shelves, Shiloh finds a book that contains some shockingly naughty illustrations. When all sorts of mystical disasters start happening, Shiloh is sure they’re somehow connected to the book. But by then it’s too late to simply put it back on the shelf.

Liam and Elijah’s response to the town’s call for help is a first. Their first paranormal case, and their first in-person meeting. They’re longtime online friends with a common interest in the unexplainable, but they’re shocked by the sparks that fly, not only between the two of them, but between them and Shiloh.

Somehow the book’s dark magic is not only the catalyst, but is also feeding off their sexual attraction. They must work together to figure out how to put the escaped entity back where it belongs—before it closes the book on their budding relationship.

***

I’d love to share a wee excerpt with you, too!

Here we go!

As soon as Bella left, she Shiloh went to put out the incense.

Last thing she needed was to have a vision and burn the bookstore down.

That would make Bella grumpy.

She giggled, then clapped her hand over her mouth when the sound echoed. Looked as if it might be a long day.

The notes behind the register were incredibly clear, written in Bella’s perfectly legible blocky print. Every possible problem for the next few days had been explained, answers carefully outlined. She grinned. No, Wilhelmina was not allowed to put up any posters. Yes, Aramina Gersham, the sweet eight-year-old whose mom made llama hats, could come in and sit with Peanut Butter in the afternoons. It went on and on.

Shiloh grabbed a book randomly from the shelf. Oh, erotic divination. Delicious. Just think of all the crusty old dudes that had pawed over this one. She put it back gingerly, immediately wanting to run for the hand sanitizer.

The shelf was filled with esoteric tomes mixed with the Babe on a Broomstick titles. Crazy. She’d seen enough weirdness to not be a bitch about it, but her mother, college and living in Dallas for a bit had instilled a strong streak of skepticism.

She chuckled at the book simply labeled, Summoning in an old-fashioned Goth-y font. Summoning what?

It was dirty and smelled in that amazing way of old books—dust and history, ink and something that was only books. Shiloh imagined it was probably glue and paper and solvents or something, but damn it, it was a book about magic, she could romanticize, right?

She flipped it open, grinning even wider at spells to summon genies and selkies, wizards and goats. Why the hell would anyone bring forth a goat?

Not that she had any issues with goats. Mick had some great nannies and the best goat cheese on the Western Slope, but you could just go ask him to borrow one…

Oh. She squinted at the book. That was just a guy who resembled a goat with… whoa.

Oh, that was impressive. There were a bunch of them—well-endowed men with huge racks of antlers or horns. It was…well, obscene, but a little erotic and incredibly fascinating, especially for such an old book. She could use one or two of those, especially the one on the next page.

The thought made her look around to make sure no one was peering over her shoulder.

Just her, the smoke and the animals Thank the goddess.

She did run her fingers over the hottest-looking number with a wide chest and a big, uh, sword. “I could so handle you, buddy.”

Hell, the men in Culper were either taken, old or just passing through, and Shiloh knew how the locals treated their own who dabbled with the migrants. Even a hippie-free-love town with a hot springs wasn’t really all that permissive.

Shiloh didn’t need anything long term; she didn’t need a commitment. She needed a good, hard fuck.

Snorting, she put the book aside for later, when she wouldn’t have to worry about anyone coming in.

Still her brain kept going back to those horns, that heavy, hard prick.

By the time she closed the shop, she was a little obsessed. She wanted to take the book home. No one would notice, right? She could just stare all night.

What would it possibly hurt?

Bella wouldn’t mind. Shiloh tucked the book into her bag before locking up. She would drop Peanut Butter off at Cindy Moss’s place, where he could spend the night like a puppy pasha, and then hit the Dog House for a hot dog before heading home.

The big old house stood at the edge of town, a sentinel, gothic and wonderful. It resembled the Addams’s family house, only in better repair, and it was the main reason she’d ended up in Culper as an adult.

Daddy had loved this house with a passion, had spent hours, days, years, working on it, repairing this and replacing that. The floors were buttery smooth now, the old built-in china cabinet lovingly restored to its walnut finish.

Shiloh smiled as she wandered toward the kitchen. It was a touch bittersweet still, but mostly sweet. She could feel Daddy in every inch of this house.

She sat at the table and munched her hot dogs and fries before heading to the small back parlor to light a little fire and curl up with her book. She pulled a blanket over her lap and started reading the chapter titled Invoking the Spirit of Eros.

That was what she needed. Eros. The power of the masculine and sex. A nice big cock. She giggled at herself. Right.

That was her, slut extraordinaire. Hell, she hadn’t had a relationship in five years, easy, and she’d never just had someone for a one-night stand. Her fingers traced the image of the horned man, the muscled body, the long, needy erection.

He was so compelling. She could see why people worshipped him. She mouthed the first few words of his incantation, sounding them out.

A god that chased you through the forest, someone to make you feel things you never had. To make you wild with need. Relentless in his quest for pleasure. She pressed her thighs together, the tingle between them long forgotten, thrilling.

She traced the odd looking symbols with one finger, her fingertip sliding on the page. A shiver went through her, and she glanced at the door, wondering where the draft came from.

Silly girl.

***

Thanks so much for hanging out and reading with me! You can find Book of Love here: https://www.samhainpublishing.com/book/5478/book-of-love

I’m Julia Talbot, and I also write as Minerva Howe. Find me at www.juliatalbot.com

XXOO

Julia

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