Welcome to Julia Talbot's blog!

Welcome, everyone! Here's where I blather about writing, life with my partner BA, and my two basset hounds! I love to hear from readers, so comment here or email me!

Sunday, September 14, 2014

A Snog for Sommer

Our friend and fellow writer Sommer Marsden is having a rough time, so this is for her!


"True." He backed up. "How did you hear about Full Moon Dating?"

"I'm on a shifters forum, and people were talking about it. I don't have the best luck with relationships, so I thought, how about something new?"

Relationships. How adorable was that? Wolves mated. That was why you didn't have any luck with someone who wasn't right for you if you were one of them. It was all chemical.

"I like it. I found it through a friend. I don't get much choice up my way."

"I bet." Aiden chewed the coffee off his bottom lip, and Ben wanted to do that for him, bite a little. Chew a little.

Maybe a lot. "I'm glad they sent you."

"Me too. You smell so good..." Aiden leaned in, nostrils flaring.

"Do I?" He carefully sat his coffee aside, then Aiden's. Then he yanked the man up over his lap to take the kiss he needed.

Aiden's groan was sharp, less surprised than needy, to be honest. The man wrapped around him, loving on him, and he took the kiss deeper, sealing their mouths together.

He kept his eyes open, staring as he watched every second, every expression on Aiden's face. The man was focused, tongue pushing against his, fighting with him. All he could do was push back, and that gave him the idea to press Aiden down on the couch, reversing their positions.

Aiden gave a sweet little squeak, holding him tight as he learned how that sweet body felt underneath him. Oh, yummy. He circled his hips, letting Aiden feel him. They were both into it -- hard and needing, bellies rubbing together.

He reached between them, frustrated as hell with the cloth keeping them apart. Ben needed to feel skin. Aiden's sweater came off easily, showing a sweet little belly, coppery curls just peeking from the low-slung jeans. He traced them to the button, popping those jeans open.

Short and thick, Aiden's prick fit right his hand, like a flame on his palm. Perfect. He rubbed up and down, the open zipper scratching him some.

"I... Oh." He got a wide-eyed look, a shocked gaze that was glazed with need.

"Uh-huh. You’ve been alone too long, honey." Pushing those jeans down some more, he rocked his hand back and forth.

Aiden's shoulders left the sofa cushions, eyes rolling back in an expression of pure fucking bliss. The man was starved for touch, for sensation, as the food proved. Sweet. Sensation, Ben could provide. He loved to touch, loved to mark beautiful skin.

What amazing fun they were going to have, the two of them.

He pulled back, and Aiden followed his hand when he let go. "Just let me get naked, honey."

"You've got amazing hands." Aiden helped him with his shirt, the touch feather-light.

"You think so? I'm glad you like them." He was, as he intended to use his hands on Aiden in a hundred different ways, and that was just tonight.

"I do." Aiden's fingertips brushed over his nipples, his ribs.

Ben stretched a little, showing off. He was long and lean, but he knew he looked good. He worked hard.

Aiden's lips joined his fingers, every touch too gentle, too careful, like Aiden was afraid to make him feel.

"You can bite a little, honey. I won't growl." Much.

This one is from Full Moon Dating: Aiden and Ben, available here



Saturday, September 13, 2014

How we know things are meant to be, or the weirdest house buying thing

So, y'all now we've been looking for a house. Back in July, we thought we'd found our dream home. Way too big, and pretty old, but well worth the price, so we put in an offer.

Everything that could go wrong, did. The roof inspection went poorly. There were termites. Repairs were promised, lots of lies were told. The closing date went back and forth like a yo-yo. We tried hard, but in the end, we just had no confidence that the house wasn't a money pit of hidden damage, so we terminated the offer almost a week after all the repairs were due and not delivered upon.

That was a Thursday. We started looking at houses again on a Sunday, and we found one we really liked. Made an offer on Monday and bam. They accepted.

Now, how do we know house 2 will most likely close on the 30th as planned?

No one is lying. We have a full disclosure. The inspection is set for Monday with no objections from the owner.

And we're planning the space, looking obsessively at pics of the interior, placing our furniture.

The only plan we ever made for the first house was tentative paint colors. That's it. We never believed it, never got excited. Now, we're making lists and planning Two Men and a Truck and... Yeah. Woot.

Somehow things fall into place when they're meant to be.

How cool is that?



Monday, September 08, 2014


No, not the video game.

The 6 inch monster under our kitchen island



Send help. Or a flamethrower



Saturday, September 06, 2014

Free Read: Inspiration, by Julia Talbot

Hey, y'all! Look what I found on the hard drive. This was written years ago for a now-defunct web newsletter and contest. It was under a different pen name back then because I was trying to diversify, but I thought it would be fun to toss it up here.


By Julia Talbot

“Can you imagine? Some people just have no sense of self-control.”

Theo had been listening to the woman with the pierced nose and the hundreds of tiny braids for at least a half hour. She was going on and on about how her best friend liked to fuck outside, where people might see her, where she could feel grass under her feet.

“It takes all kinds, Jen,” the other girl said, and watching the purple Mohawk bob above her head, Theo kind of agreed.

He wasn’t much for sitting in coffee shops in the city. Theo only did it when he had to meet with his agent, who was worth chancing the traffic and the city dwellers for. Eamon not only sold Theo's art at a fucking premium, he was the most beautiful man Theo had ever met, with soot colored hair and bright green eyes. Not to mention the body that seemed sculpted by Michelangelo or someone.

“You have that look on your face,” Eamon said, as if thinking of him had magically conjured him up.

“Which look is that?” Theo asked, smiling and waving Eamon to a seat.

“The one that says, ‘I hate the city; it’s almost as entertaining as an ant farm'.”

Theo laughed, drawing looks from the black-clad denizens all around them, people frowning at the bright sound. “Anything for you, babe. Besides, I’ve been eavesdropping.”

“What have you been hearing?” Eamon waved to the little waiter, completely at ease with the setting, and with having a little drama queen sashay over and flirt with him.

“Outdoor fucking. You ever done it?” There, he thought. Let’s see how comfortable Eamon was with that.

“When I was in college? Sure. These days, grass in my ass just doesn’t appeal.”

Staring, Theo chuckled, sure Eamon was either lying or exaggerating. “No way. You?”

“Believe it or not, I went to school in the northwest. You don’t go there and not be outdoorsy.”

“No shit? Tell me about it?” He and Eamon had this great chemistry, but they’d never acted on it. Oh, they flirted. They teased. They got hard. But Theo had always thought they were just too different.

Those high, bottle-tanned cheekbones went red, Eamon glancing about before leaning forward and lowering his voice. “What? It was my sophomore year, I was on a hike. Shit, this sounds like Penthouse letters.”

“You know I take my inspiration from nature, honey,” Theo said, batting his lashes and feeling not quite ridiculous. “Lay it on me.”

“Shit.” Shifting in his chair, Eamon waited for the little waiter to set down his espresso and croissant before going on. “There wasn’t much to it. I mean, there was a hiking guide I had the serious hots for, so I got him to take me out along the river. Just me. I wasn’t sure, but I thought he was family, you know?”

Theo nodded, leaning his elbows on the table to get closer. He could almost smell the old growth forest and hear the rushing water.

“So I did all the obvious shit. I took my shirt off when it got hot. I rubbed against him every chance I got. I wiggled and flexed…”

“And what? He wasn’t interested?”

Eamon laughed, the sound low and intimate. “He was. I think he was just worried that I was jailbait.”

”So what did you do?”

“I finally just grabbed him. Kissed the sap right out of him. He didn’t need much more encouragement,” Eamon said, eyebrows going up and down.

Theo waited for more, poking Eamon when he trailed off. “So, what did you do?”

“Fuck, Theo. Do you want a blow by blow?”

“Yes.” Was he going to deny it? Hell, no. His cock was hard in his jeans, his hand twitching with the need to reach down and rub it.

“I sucked him off, okay? I wasn’t so good at it back then, but he didn’t seem to mind. I took his jeans off him and got down on my knees and sucked the Hell out of him.”

Somewhere from the vicinity of the pierced and painted girls there was an outraged gasp, but Theo paid it no mind. “Did he help you out, too?” he asked, having to clear his throat to get the words out.

“Yeah. He pulled me up and let me lean on him while he jacked me. I remember the sun coming down through the trees. We stood right next to the water, so the spray off the rocks cooled me off while he heated me up. He held me against his chest and stroked me off and I swear, I thought he was the strongest man in the whole fucking world.”

The words seemed to ring loud, even though Eamon whispered them, his eyes closing, long lashes shadowing his cheeks.

Jesus fuck, he was beautiful.

Theo squirmed, trying to find a comfortable place for his cock in his too-tight jeans.

“Okay, then. You really have done it outside, huh?”

“Uh-huh. Did I inspire you?” Wicked. That smile was purely wicked.

Adjusting himself, Theo got up and headed for the bathroom. “You did, honey. You surely did.”


Three weeks later, Theo stood back from his easel and stared at his most recent painting with a critical eye. Then he smiled. Yeah. Yeah, it was good.

The scene was a lot lighter than his usual work, a lot more… almost Impressionistic. Swirls of green and blue, with just the hint of two flesh tones in the center, the painting felt natural, sensual, drawing the eye right to the two figures who seemed to entwine.

It was everything he’d hoped it would be.

Theo grabbed his phone, smearing linseed oil on his cheek. The stupid thing rang and rang, making him dance a little with impatience. One he was ready to make a move, Theo hated to wait.

“Eamon McClellan.”

“Hey, Eamon. Theo. I have something new to show you.”

“Theo! Good to know. You going to bring it into the city for me to see?”

Staring at the canvas, Theo shook his head, feeling his cock start to harden, just like that. “No, Eamon. I think this time you need to come to the boondocks,” he said. “You need to see it in its natural setting.”

“Okay, man. I’ll come out this week.”


They hung up not long after that, and Theo pulled off his soft sweats, heading to the window seat to give himself a hand. With any luck, he could get Eamon to see that nature was still damned inspiring.

There was nothing like the great outdoors.


Copyright 2007 Julia Talbot (originally published electronically under another pen name)



Wednesday, September 03, 2014

a writer's crisis of confidence, or how Julia can be a speshul snowflake

I have people tell me all the time I've been at this writing thing long enough that I should never have a crisis or faith. I am, to toot my own horn, regularly top ten bestseller on ARE and Amazon. I have won awards. I get very nice emails from fans, and I have a healthy presence on social media. In short (I know, too late) I am a decently successful ebook first author who makes a living off what I do, and I love it.

And now, for the darkside. (duh duh duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh)

I have terrible confidence issues, just like all writers. A writer friend, Shannon West, mentioned on social media today that 13K into her latest WIP she decided it sucked. That happens to all of us. So does rejection (my latest lesbian story, for example, was turned down after being in the running for over a month past the deadline). Then? My beta for said lesbian story's self pubbing adventure told me it would be nice to see some conflict among the fluff...

Crickets chirping

Julia picks her crushed-bug self up off the floor with a spatula.

On the heels of a review of the first Minerva Howe book on Amazon that said I was more boring than paint drying, and an editor telling me my erotic m/m story was, well, sweet but not hot, I may be developing a complex.

Now, does that keep me from doing my word count? Nope. It does, however, remind me that art is subjective, and that all artists, including authors, deal with putting their work out there in the world and occasionally getting beaten down for it. It's totally easy when things are going well to tell authors who are in a slump to pull their socks up and move on. It's another thing entirely when you're the stressed out, smooshed roadkill on the side of the publishing highway.

So, today I pull up ye old socks and take a good look at my lesbian story, do re-writes on a novel where the plot was so thin it was see-through, and work on the next Minerva Howe book despite the one crappy review. I may have the best job in the world, but it still requires a lot of practice and, you know, work. Even when I would rather be a speshul snowflake and go eat ice cream all day.



Saturday, August 30, 2014

Online communities and happy writers

I've had a lot of great discussions about the valuing art post I did, and I have to say, I love the online writing and reading community. Even when we disagree, we can have lively discussions. Oh, sure, all online communities have their nutballs, but I do love being able to talk writing and books and be the introvert I am.

Though if you tell my wife I'm the quiet, sweet one, she falls over laughing



Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Just call me Sneezy

writing day! yay

Can't breathe, boo

Day off walking the dogs! Yay

Dogs very sad, boo

I like the new Dr Who, yay

I still haven't watched the Matt Smith seasons, boo

House is clean, yay!

Yard is a mess, boo

And now, for a random picture

Rocky Mountain National Park at the end of JUNE