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Tallisun: God of Ostara: Sons of Herne, #3
Tallisun: God of Ostara: Sons of Herne, #3
Tallisun: God of Ostara: Sons of Herne, #3
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Tallisun: God of Ostara: Sons of Herne, #3

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Your next book boyfriend should be a god!

They will hunt each other for a love they never expected…

Tallisun has little interest in fulfilling his godly duty by bedding a woman for the ritual of spring. He would much rather be part of the Thousand Seasons hunt that his father, Herne, forbade him from attending. When Tallisun goes off on a hunt of his own, he nearly shoots a beautiful earth woman who wanders in front of his arrow. To retaliate for costing him his trophy, he steals her garments while she bathes in a nearby lake.

Harper is camping solo when her clothes are taken by a handsome, well-built male who is sexy as hell, but clearly off his rocker. After all, who runs around the forest wearing antlers and claiming to be a god? But to her shock, Tallisun proves his antlers are real, and the god of Ostara has intentions toward her that are far less than platonic.

He has an intriguing proposition: let him hunt her in the woods. If he catches her, she will become the spring maiden in a carnal ritual he has become more interested in than ever. Harper wouldn’t mind a one-time rendezvous with such a delicious morsel, except for his aggravating doubt in her survival skills. So, she has a better idea. He will not hunt her. They will hunt each other.

The contest of becoming both hunter and hunted will take them to a place of primal yearning, and their sabbat union will awaken unexpected consequences that complicate their mutual decision to part amicably after the ritual is through.

About the Sons of Herne series:

The god Herne has appointed eight of his most virile, headstrong sons as keepers of the pagan holidays. To honor their sabbat, each must join with a mortal female in a ritual to maintain the balance between worlds.

It is the year of The Thousand Seasons, and the Fates have secretly conspired to mark the end of an era by granting the gods one thing they lack--a true union of male and female that will last well beyond the fleeting passion of a sabbat joining.

Herne’s sons will wrestle with the conflict between sacred duty and their own yearnings, a struggle that will not only challenge their beliefs, but may threaten the success of rituals that must be observed lest the realms of mortal and immortal collide in chaos.

This is Book 3 of the Sons of Herne series.  Although the tales can be read as standalone romance, there is an overall plot arc that is best served by reading them in order. This series features pagan sex rituals, so if you prefer your romance sweet and behind closed doors, this one's not for you!

The series books in order:

1. Dominus: God of Yule (free)
2. Eradimus: God of Imbolc (subscriber exclusive)
3. Tallisun: God of Ostara
4. Jorandil: God of Beltane
5. Devinar: God of Litha
6. Feillor: God of Lammas
7. Anduron: God of Mabon
8. Archipellus: God of Samhain

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 9, 2016
ISBN9781533703033
Tallisun: God of Ostara: Sons of Herne, #3

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    Tallisun - J. Rose Allister

    List of the Pagan Sabbats

    WHILE THE RITUALS AND situations created for this series are purely fiction, they are based on actual holidays observed by a number of pagan paths. The eight pagan sabbats take place on or between an equinox or solstice. Dates vary based on the sun and hemisphere. Some pagans consider Yule the beginning of their year, while others begin with Samhain. For the purpose of this series, I used the Northern Hemisphere and Yule as the starting point.

    Yule

    (Dec 20-23) Winter Solstice, longest night of the year. A celebration of the rebirth of the sun, as the days will now get longer. Yule logs, wassail, and mistletoe are traditional, as is the holly king, who some believe is part of the Santa Claus legend.

    Imbolc

    (Feb 1-2) Also called Candlemas or St. Brighid’s Day. A time when ewes bring forth lambs, meaning spring is coming. Sacred to the goddess Brighid. Candles, St. Brighid crosses, and priapic wands are common associations.

    Ostara

    (Mar 20-23) During the Spring Equinox. Sacred to Eostre, lunar goddess. Spring has arrived, and new life is celebrated. Eggs, rabbits and flowers are traditional.

    Beltane

    (Apr 30-May 1) A sabbat honoring fertility. Summer arrives, when the god and goddess consummate their union and conceive life. Dancing around the maypole, bonfires, handfastings, and sexual revelry are common traditions.

    Litha

    (Jun 20-22) Summer Solstice or Midsummer. Longest day of the year. Said to be a time of high magic, especially among fairy lore. (Remember A Midsummer Night’s Dream?) The sun is at its strongest, but will weaken as it gives way to the darker half of the year.

    Lammas

    (Jul 31-Aug 1) Also called Lughnasadh, after the god Lugh (pronounced: Loo). The first of three harvest sabbats, it is a time to begin reaping what has been sown. Baking bread, corn dolls, and wheat are common traditions and symbols.

    Mabon

    (Sep 21-23) Fall Equinox. The pagan thanksgiving and second harvest sabbat. Crops are almost fully gathered now, many of which have been stored and turned into ciders, jams, and other goods. Named for the god Mabon, known for freeing captives.

    Samhain

    (Oct 31) Halloween/All Hallows. Summer is gone and dark days approach. The veil between worlds is thin, meaning spirits of departed souls may cross over/communicate. Apples, black cats, Jack-o-Lanterns, and brooms are common.

    TALLISUN: GOD OF OSTARA

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    STEALTH AND MIGHT, awareness and respect. These were the qualities a good hunter needed to stalk the wise forests, and Tallisun drew on them all while he crept among the trees. He paused with his palm against the rough bark of a slumbering oak, scenting the air, listening to the sounds of the wild woods.

    The wild woods where he stood were, perhaps, not as wild as he would like. Far away in the eighth realm, his father was leading a merry chase through the endless woods that had earned renown. But Tallisun, son of Herne, god of the sabbat, and master of the bow had been refused the chance to attend the Hunt of the Three Horns, arguably the largest in the series of hunts commemorating the year-long Thousand Seasons celebration. The insult stung, much like the narrow branch that whipped his face when he turned his head to duck through the dense forest. Making passage at present was no easy task, considering his antlers were at full size. Avoiding snagging himself among the trees was not his focus, however. His eyes darted every which way, seeking an outlet for the anger burning inside him.

    Surely you do not mean to attend a hunt that would take you out of the realm when you have a ritual to prepare for? his father had asked when Tallisun had been foolish enough to ask.

    Of all your sons, I am the only one who should be attending, Tallisun said. I alone have followed the footsteps of the great hunter.

    A bit overstated, his father had said. You are a skillful archer, true. But a great hunter knows when the call of his prey does not come from the forest, but from duties he must attend outside of the hunt.

    Back in the mortal forest, another deep breath brought the sweet smell of awakening spring to his nostrils. He closed his eyes, giving in for a moment to the pull of the sabbat. The forest had roused from the slumber of winter, and along with it, Tallisun felt a stirring in his loins. Duties outside of the hunt, indeed. In his case, this meant the carnal duty of a sabbat god. He must find himself a female before the sun set on the sabbat and unite with her in a wild frenzy. He would fuck her in earnest, as untamed as the animals he put in front of his arrows, and not just to douse the rising, unavoidable surge of lust. He had to fulfill the ritual of Ostara, a sacred rite to acknowledge spring as all life gathered strength to fuel the coming summer. He would neither know the woman, nor would he even select her himself. The one who would become his ritual partner was chosen by the Counsel of Sabbats—had already been chosen, no doubt—based on criteria that rendered her suitable for the rite rather than for his preference.

    In fairness, he had opted out of directing the selection long ago. There seemed little point when the woman would give her consent to a mere specter, a god who would come to her, then come in her, and then take his leave. When he was phased between realms using the power of the pendant, he would neither be seen nor felt, as absent in ritual intercourse as he felt in other times of his life.

    The heat of the sun had coaxed to life many smells in the woods, enticing scents wafting on a warm breeze. The aromas and sounds, right down to the gentle rustle of budding leaves, conspired to harden the bulk between his thighs. The wind teased at his hair, pushing the long threads of gold back over his shoulders the way he might do to a woman whose bare neck he wished to explore with his lips. He shook off the distraction to focus on the task at hand. Ostara was not, in his opinion, the time to celebrate the wet heat of a woman’s pussy. It was a time when the hunter celebrated a forest full of new life—by claiming a trophy and fortifying his body with the strength of seared meat.

    Even now, the day was waning, but not his desire to avoid the calling. Whether or not his father had allowed him at the Three Horns festivities, Tallisun would observe the hunt on his own, hopefully with a kill to rival that of the great Herne. Perhaps that achievement might sate the need rising inside him. Perhaps his bow and arrow could distract him from the need to find relief inside the wet heat of a woman, for no other reason than duty demanded it.

    Hunter and prey warred inside of him, one struggling to survive, the other determined to conquer. What had it been like to drive his cock into a woman for the sheer pleasure of desiring her tender flesh? Out of longing for a warm embrace, the joyous sound of her moans, and the reward of a contented smile when he had satisfied her? Too much time had passed to even recall. He had become his father’s stud pony, performing on command at the whim of the sabbat. Even now, Ostara beckoned, sliding over the spring grasses like a snake. But he would retain control of his body—and his will—for as long as he could. He would resist the need building inside of him until he had gotten what he had come for.

    The hunt drew his attention once more, and he realized that he had an unfair advantage. His fingers slid to the pendant around his neck, finding the gem that vibrated on a frequency unique to all others. The stone, forged with the energies of the veil between worlds, kept him hidden in this realm, just enough out of phase that he could be heard, perhaps even smelled, but not seen. A definite advantage for a hunter, but not one he wished to exploit if he wanted a true test of his skills. Such also lacked respect for the prey who must be allowed a fair chance to see what lurked in the shadows.

    Tallisun tugged the pendant from his neck and slid it into his pocket. His experience of the earth realm heightened only slightly with him in phase, but the realm would now be fully aware of him. Prey would be scarce at this hour of the day, but he knew the most likely spot to encounter some. He made his way to the lake, crouching behind brush that gave him a vantage point to observe the watering spot. An erection throbbed in his leggings, dividing his attention in as many directions as the forks on his head. He bit the inside of his cheek and kept his eyes on the water. He would be late for his appointment with the sabbat, but he would not engage that task until he had fulfilled this one.

    Minutes stretched by while he waited, motionless, willing the arrival of a worthy prize. Patience had been a hard-won victory for Tallisun ever since boyhood. He had been taken on hunts by his father when his goddess mother had been too preoccupied with lovers, both male and female, to care for her son. Many aspects of the hunt had appealed to him, but the most important—the ability to maintain patience while awaiting the proper moment to strike—had proven a most difficult foe to conquer. The very notion of remaining still had filled him with dread, and his juvenile attempts had made his body quiver with unspent energy until he exploded in

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