Boo of Love Part 01

A quick little introduction to The Books and their brand of lovely magic

An attic can be an amazing place. As a space that collects memories, it can hold memories from a time long ago and long forgotten. Boxes that haven't been opened in years can hold stuffed animals, old clothes, or books that long to be read again.

Or, as Isaac was quickly finding out, it could be filled to the brim with completely useless and valueless shit. His uncle, a well-known traveler of the world, was also a world-class pack rat: holding onto things that no other logical being would think to. Giant Tiki mask? Right over there. African tribal spear and piercing set? Two in that corner, and one in that other one. Isaac wiped his forehead, and pulled another box off of the pile. Half of the attic was unpacked and ready for the appraiser to some in from the museum, and the other half was full of boxes that were waiting to be unpacked. Isaac turned sharply and his foot caught on an uneven plank, causing the box he was carrying to spill its contents in front of where Isaac himself fell.

Isaac didn't immediately get up. His head was incredibly close to the woodwork, but his thoughts were nowhere near the attic. He thought of how his mother told him to clean his eccentric uncle's attic. He thought of yesterday, when he had plans that prevented him from cleaning this stupid junkyard. He thought of yesterday night, when-

Isaac hit his head on the floor to clear his thoughts. He told himself he wouldn't think of that. Past that time, and the several dozens of times before it, he was doing rather well in that regard. Isaac hefted a deep sigh, pushed himself up on his elbows, and then stopped. The mess in front of him was a mountain of old and weathered books, some bound in leather and some in fabric. But what drew his eyes the most was the book on the top of the pile. It had landed perfectly on the top of the pile, facing where Isaac fell. The title of the book was an easily readable pink, flowing cursive on what looked like black leather. Unlike the other books, this book looked like it was just printed. Isaac rubbed his eyes. The book was still there.

The one advantage to cleaning a room full of priceless and irreplaceable treasures is that there are no signs that say "No Touching". Isaac grabbed the book. It was about the size of his hand. The leather was smooth, almost slippery. He traced the pink lettering of the title.

The Book of Love

.

Huh. So I either found Uncle's porn stash, or this is some artifact. With a perfect, unflawed cover.

He quickly made up his mind as to which one was the more likely choice.

Old perv.

He went to throw the book back on the pile, but...

Isaac looked at the book again.

Might do me well to at least look through it. See if I can learn something.

He smiled to himself. He started to open the book.

"ISAAC! LUNCH!" His mom yelled from downstairs, completely destroying all atmosphere and dramatic tension.

Isaac had to do a complicated series of juggles and catches before he had a firm hold on the book again. He breathed in and tried to restart his heart.

"OK! I'll be down in a minute!" he yelled back down. Shaking his head, he quickly organized the books that fell out of the box. He was about to put

The Book of Love

on one of the shelves with the other ancient books, but decided not to. He slipped the book into one of the pockets on his cargo shorts, and climbed down the ladder from the attic.

***

That night Isaac was sitting on the computer, checking his mail and various social networking sites. He leaned back in his chair, and his eyes landed on

The Book of Love

. He had chucked it on his desk before he went down for lunch earlier in the day. He picked it up, and scrutinized the cover. Running his hands over the cover, it felt like real leather, not the fake and cheap stuff. It was weird that the inlaid title was in pink, and not a the more typical gold; but the book was called "

The Book of Love"

, so concessions could be made in the face of tradition. There was no name of an author, and the back was just an unblemished expanse of black leather. He turned it to the cover, and then opened it to a couple pages in.

The pages were slightly yellow around the edges, its only clue to hold old it was. The rest of the page was white. Completely white. There wasn't any text.

What the hell?

Isaac flipped to the first page.

What the fuck!

The front page wasn't a virginally clean as the other pages; a large, black, and shapeless smudge was covering more than half of the page. But the disturbing part was that the black mass was shifting and distributing itself across the page, leaving pieces of itself behind as it transversed the paper. Over the course of a minute, what had been a black smudge transformed into a page of text in the same handwriting as the cover.

Hi there,

Congratulations! You have just become the recipient of a Book of Love! This book will help you find your One True Love, Guaranteed! Just turn the page, and the book will give you advice, a simple instruction, or, if you are a special case, a more complex suggestion. By all means, you do not have to listen to the advice of the book if you don't want to. This book will not directly endanger your soul, body, or mind in anyway, so no worries there. Once you have found your One True Love, the book will disappear, whether by itself (don't ask) or by some means of its own devising. Feel free to tell anyone about the book, but do not feel insulted if they immediately forget what you were saying.

Happy hunting! ;)

Quinn B.P.

With a curiosity that quickly overcame his initial trepidation, he turned the page. He was greeted by another black smear that was already shaping itself into a phrase. It wasn't a long phrase, and Isaac was a little disappointed he wasn't a "special case" as the letter had called it.

In the middle of the right page, four single-syllable words formed out of the black smudge.

Go to the mall.

Isaac blinked. He turned the page, and the smudge-transformation started again on the unblemished page. He watched, hoping it was something more significant than shopping advice.

Go to the mall

appeared again, virtually identical to the same phrase on the other page. He turned page after page, but the same four-word piece of advice repeated on each one. He stopped flipping the pages.

Go to the mall

was already on the page.

Isaac shook his head. "That's it? Go to the mall? What, is my 'One True Love' looking for a new pair of shoes?"

The message coalesced into a black smudge, and then formed new words where the old message was.

She's not that interested in shoes. She would say that 'A good purse can hold a king's ransom, and shoes are only good for walking.'

Isaac dropped the book.

***

He spent the rest of that night talking to the book: asking it questions, attempting to trick it, and basically trying to prove to himself...

What exactly? That it's real? That it's not something Uncle put in his attic to screw with whoever found it?

He decided to listen to the book and head to the mall the next day. At worst he would waste a day hanging around the mall, and at best the book would be right. His mom gave him a bit of grief over not finishing his duty of cleaning the attic, but Isaac was able to convince her that he would finish with the task when he got back, and that 'all work and no play' wasn't healthy. So he was able to escape his assignment, and head to the mall.

On the drive over, he had a mild dilemma. He was still not sure if he should be following the advice of some random book that had a neat trick, and seemed to respond to his questions. Well, the book could also answer questions that Isaac didn't know the answer to. And it had made fun of his skepticism more than once. So he had more reasons to believe it than to doubt it. His natural logic was making him skeptical.

While he was muddling in his mind whether or not he should listen to a magic book's advice about his love life, he was able to drive to the mall without incident. He parked in the middle of nowhere; it was busy enough that day that it was safer to park out of the way than close as possible. The mall was one of the largest in the area; two floors and four wings, connected by a large straight section that housed the food court in the center. It looked like a large letter "H" with a dome in the middle bar. He looked around for anything or anyone or... something that could indicate who the person the book was talking about was. He was alone in the parking lot.

Frantically looking around like a jackass

he thought to himself

. Eyes forward, one foot in front of the other, and let's try to just look like someone who isn't on a mission from a talking book. That would be a bonus.

Isaac walked in to the mall. Next, he sat down on a bench and re-emphasized the "act like a normal person" part of his miniature pep talk. Once he thought that walking through the masses of people wouldn't put him into a paranoid coma, he stood up and kept walking. He walked with no real objective, besides the one that brought him to the mall in the first place. He grabbed a soda from a vending machine, and walked around, just people-watching. He finished the soda on his second lap of the mall.

Again Isaac took refuge on a bench, this time with a burger. As he ate the only-good-for-your-soul condensed grease burger, he was forced to think about what he was doing. He was taking the advice of a book, that he found in his eccentric uncle's attic that somehow wrote what he wanted to read. Sure, he was just getting over Carol, but anyone could figure that out. It was all over his social media feeds. And Isaac reassured himself multiple times that he had just read something on the internet about ink that reacted to electrical pulses, and that the spine of that book probably housed some sort of microchip or something, and that was what was writing those things. He felt like an idiot. He felt a lot like right after he caught Carol. He did the same things: he looked back at the clues that he hadn't seen before, and berated himself for being such a blind idiot. He finished off the last of his burger like it owed him money, pitched the wrapper into the nearby trash can, and then briskly stood up. He took several confident steps, and was taken out by a man walking in the other direction, whose shoulder roughly intercepted Isaac's, sending him careening into a person walking the other way.

"Owww..." both disrupted people groaned out.

Isaac sat up, at tried to look for the person who knocked him over. He was nowhere in sight. He rubbed his head, and looked at the person who he knocked over.

She was gorgeous. She had shoulder length brown hair, blue eyes, and was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans. She was rubbing her head, and looking around on the ground. Her purse, a monster of a thing, had spilt on the ground behind her; a sea of various makeup products, combs, hardware tools, a book, and a wallet had breached the banks of her purse.

"Damn. I though Mary Poppins was only in that movie." He said quietly to himself.

"I'm so sorry for knocking you over. Here, let me help."

The woman blushed, and started shoving her supplies into her bag. "Oh, thanks, but I should be able to get it." She smiled at Isaac. He smiled back, stood up, and extended his hand.

"My name's Isaac. How about we get out of the way of traffic? Say, to the food court?"

The woman made sure that all of her things were in her purse then smiled brightly at Isaac. "That sounds wonderful." She accepted his hand, and used it to stand up.

"My name is Poppy Marigold."

"You're fucking with me."

They laughed all the way to the food court.

***

Poppy's apartment was simple. A modest sized living room with a connected kitchen held a couch, TV, and an end table. Usually it was clean, but now it looked like a hurricane composed of clothes (and one very large purse) had passed through the main walkway, headed for the one bedroom.

As artistic metaphors go, 'a hurricane' was an accurate description of what happened. Once Poppy had suggested that Isaac and her go to her place for an after-lunch coffee ("I don't really like coffee", "Neither do I", frantic scampering) and they made it to Poppy's apartment without a speeding ticket or accident, their clothing had flown off as quickly as their lust-driven hands could unbutton or pull off.

They had paused in their advance to the bedroom when Isaac had lifted a mostly naked Poppy off her feet and pinned her to the wall, using his body to hold her against the wall, using his lips to frantically kiss her lips, using his teeth to nip at her neck and collarbone. He was rewarded with her frantically kissing him back, moans of pleasure when he found a sweet spot, and squeaks when he found a regular spot. The pause ended when Poppy looked directly into Isaac's eyes and said with the force that only an incredibly aroused woman can muster, "Bedroom.

Now.

"

Not one to disappoint, Isaac had let Poppy down and quickly followed her into the bedroom. Poppy spun a quick half-turn in front of the bed, and laid back just as she was being embraced by Isaac. They hit the bed together, passionately kissing, their naked bodies rubbing against each other's. Isaac's hardness was prodding Poppy's wetness, making both of them gasp at the fleeting contact as sparks shot through each other's bodies. Isaac stopped the shooting pleasure when he traveled down Poppy's body to lick and suck on her nipples, forcing out a great moan from Poppy. After she writhed under Isaac's onslaught for as long as she dared, she pulled him up so she could kiss what had just been on her breasts.

Isaac looked into Poppy's eyes, and she looked into his. They nodded at the same time.

He rubbed his head against her gently weeping lower lips, and rubbed up and down, spreading her juices around, and making her moan and beg for more as he teased her. When he was satisfied with his tormenting, he glided to her entrance and held himself there. Poppy opened her eyes, and looked down at where they were almost joined together. Isaac's vision joined where Poppy's was. He flexed his hips, and plunged into her in one deep thrust. Dual moans filled the meager bedroom, only adding to their mutual pleasure. Isaac didn't move from his place inside the velvet sheath that was Poppy; he needed both the couple of seconds to regain his composure, and he wanted to enjoy just feeling the immaculate sensations that his lover was giving him.

Once he felt he was far enough away from an early end to the festivities, he passionately kissed Poppy, and started to slowly move his hips, gaging what speed he should be moving by what brought the loudest moans from his partner. Poppy loved the varying speeds, and was not a passive participant in the activities; her hips were thrusting to meet Isaac's with as much force as Isaac was using. They quickly found a rhythm; thrust, moan, withdrawal, thrust, moan, withdrawal...

Isaac's lips were not still; he was kissing Poppy from her lips to the tips of her breasts. Poppy was moaning for all she was worth, and pleading for him not to stop. Isaac put more force into his thrusts, driving into Poppy with all he was worth; quickly pulling out and thrusting in with force to noisily rock the bed into the wall.

"Pop-Poppy," Isacc managed, panting. "Not... Much... Oh god... Longer..."

"Ahhhh... Me... Oh jeez there there ohhhhhhhh... too..."

Isaac thrust once, twice, three times.

Poppy screamed as her climax took what little control of her body she had left. She felt Isaac reaching his orgasm at the same time, his cum feeling like hot streaks of pleasure inside of her.

They didn't move for a long while. Poppy's internal muscles would spasm, which would cause an aftershock in Isaac as well, which would set Poppy's aftershocks off again. They relished in these fading sensations. Isaac smiled at Poppy, and the lovers lightly kissed each other.

***

In Isaac's desk,

The Book of Love

silently disappeared.

It reappeared several seconds later, and then disappeared again, this time leaving behind the post-it note that was stuck to it previously.

***

It was later from that encounter. They had not duplicated what happened earlier, partially because they were just enjoying lying naked next to each other, but mostly because they knew there would undoubtedly be repeat performances to come (pun intended). They were lying on Poppy's queen sized bed, kissing occasionally, fondling often, and talking about whatever they felt like.

"So what was that book that was in your purse?"

Poppy blushed at the question. "Oh, it was nothing. Just some trashy romance novel."

Isaac nodded. "Huh. Fair enough. Good to know you like to read girl-porn." He laughed and kissed her on the nose. "What is it called?"

"Umm...

The Book of Love

."

Isaac stopped laughing. He crawled over Poppy, copping several feels as he did, and walked into the living room. He found then opened Poppy's purse. He started looking through it.

"W-What? What's so special about some romance novel?" Poppy had followed Isaac out of the bedroom, holding a sheet above her breasts.

Isaac set down the purse. He mentally shrugged, and walked over to Poppy. He caressed the side of her face, kissed her lightly on the lips, and said, "Mine said to go the mall too."

Poppy's eyes widened in shock. Then she smiled, and kissed Isaac with all the passion she could muster. He returned the kiss with the same emotions.