Phyllis Curott : The Love Spell

"I'd been raised to believe that the irrational was illusory, even dangerous," Wiccan high priestess Curott explains. As a 20-something Manhattan law student, she didn't know why she felt a curious connection with a statue of the Libyan Sibyl at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. After she started studying with a circle of "women who called themselves Witches," it began to make sense. As a sage named Nonna explained, Curott was being called by her "daemon," who soon materialized as Derek, a sexy visitor to the Wiccan/Pagan bookstore where her circle met. Curott cast a love spell, resulting in hot sex with Derek. Convinced he was her true love, she pushed for a marriage ceremony. Alas, even priestesses schooled in the arts of love can't necessarily keep romantic passion from burning out after a few months. When things fell apart with Derek, Curott tried focusing on self-realization, but she still longed for his love. Nonna dispensed great wisdom—how we confuse love and passion, how we must love ourselves before we love others—but Curott's readers must wait until the last pages for her Mr. Right to arrive. Those curious about contemporary Wiccan beliefs and practices will find this an engrossing introduction, provided they're willing to wade through the occasional discourse on the "journey to wholeness... masculine energies... feminine sensuality" and, naturally, some fairly explicit erotic interludes.