Page 35 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

Finally, Simon decided to call it quits. “We have more work ahead of us than I thought.”

Talula turned off the lights and locked up, trying to swallow down her frustration and shame. “Maybe I just need more time with your methods.”

“I suppose, but I’d expected to see a bit more of your mother’s natural talent in you.” Simon huffed.

Talula winced—Simon, without realizing, had found her deepest insecurity and jabbed at it with a pointy stick.

“Perhaps you’ll be better at conjuring,” he mused. “You know, summoning something from one place to another.”

Talula doubted it.

Later, at home, Talula heated up leftover pork chops and canned green beans for dinner. She lay a plate down for Simon, then took her meal up to her room, where she promptly face-planted into her bed. Talula hadn’t felt this sulky since she was a teenager. Suddenly, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Hey! How was inventory?

Talula sat straight up and studied the text with a grin. Her thumbs tapped out a response.

Fine! How are the short stories going?

The next text appeared almost instantly.

I only managed to write 10 words today.

Were they ten *good* words?

“It was a dark and stormy night…or was it?”

…Ah.

Maybe your hot chocolate is the only thing that lures my muse into my brain.

Like muse catnip.

MUSE NIP.

Actually! Your muse stopped by, she said she’ll see you tomorrow. Dionysus threw a rager so she lost track of time.

That bitch was HUNGOVER, wasn’t she?

Talula laughed out loud.

If you write as funny as you text, you don’t need her. I promise.

but fr I got so desperate for cocoa inspo

I tried to make it myself with MIXED RESULTS

Dahlia sent a selfie. She was wearing what looked like pajamas—a camisole, boxer shorts, and over-the-knee fluffy socks. In the picture, she stood in front of a stovetop covered in milk foam, her face half covered with an embarrassed hand. There was something a little…undressed in the photo that made Talula’s face go hot. Another text came through.

Send reaction pic please

I wanna see your face

…and anything else you want to show me

Self-consciousness duked it out in Talula’s head with her desperate need to do anything Dahlia asked—especially if Dahlia was sending adorably sexy PJ selfies. So Talula turned the camera on herself and posed her reaction. Her hair fell in messy waves around her face, the loose neck of her sleep shirt exposing a tasteful bit of shoulder and collarbone. She hit send, hoping her cheeks didn’t look too flushed in the photo.

Dahlia’s reply came instantly.