My Second Shame
What I’ve figured out so far is this: that aspen bark leaves a white powdery dust on my lips when I kiss it that wildflowers drenched in morning dew are as potent and fragrant as a woman aroused that when a storm builds, dark and slate blue over the continental divide, I feel it, like an ache, or a longing, or both, in my pelvis. And that as much as I levitate from the brilliance of a full moon shimmering like a thousand diamonds on the snow...
Sexy Excerpt: Seduced By A River Chapter 32
The aspen leaves are just starting to unfurl at 9,000 feet here in Colorado. In the following sexy excerpt from my book, Seduced By A River: Adventures In Love Sex and Whitewater, my man wasn’t here to share them with me. He had to miss them again this year. Longing, my muse, loves to have her way with me. I hope you enjoy this little taste of nature-inspired sensuality as much as I enjoyed revisiting it: When I Leave June 2010 I wake up alone in the middle of the...
My Inner Catholic Girl: Part Two
In this blog I often refer to my Inner Catholic Girl. Turns out I have two of them. My Little Catholic Girl is seven, a towheaded little angel who follows the rules and makes straight A’s. She is kind and always stood up for the skinny girl with knobby knees that everyone teased~ a budding healing artist. In third grade, when she received the sacrament of Penance at her Catholic grade school, she had a hard time coming up with anything to confess. Forgive me father for I have sinned:...
My Inner Catholic Girl: Part 1
I’ve finally figured out that locking my Inner Catholic Girl into some dark, confessional-like corner of my psyche doesn’t work. She eventually finds her way out, rips the plug out of my laptop and hides the charging cord. So as I move forward with the re-publication of my erotic memoir, I’ve decided that this time I’m going to bring her along for the ride. Last weekend, I took her here. An abbey of Benedictine Catholic nuns. Holy women. Sisters. The spiritual seeker in me has always been intrigued...
Sexy Magazine
I was at Esalen for a writer’s conference a few years ago and saw Pam Houston, one of my favorite writers, walking through the organic gardens wearing a Bad Feminist T-shirt. I loved her even more. For years I’ve felt like a Bad Feminist because I really love this magazine: My husband ordered it years ago to, “you know, help us have a sexy marriage”. I have to admit, my Try To Be A Good Feminist’s feathers got ruffled for about ten seconds before I realized he was...
Sexy Cards
My Literary Artist and my Healing Artist are having a tug of war. In the middle of my bed. At 2 am. This is the antithesis of sexy insomnia. My Literary Artist has scheduled an afternoon meeting with a website designer to brush the dust off this website and initiate the process of getting my memoir re-published. My Healing Artist, who has plans to get a massage and soak in hot springs, isn’t interested. Literary Artist: We are going! We have a super sexy book that needs to get...
Sexy Excerpts: Night School
When I was growing up there was no YA genre so I was left to devour my mom’s romance novels and my dad’s spy thrillers. The story line didn’t really matter. I was after the sex scenes. They rarely delivered. So you can imagine my excitement when I discovered the erotica genre in my late twenties. But to this day I am absolutely thrilled when I find a well- written, sexy, sex scene. Check out this one from the Jack Reacher novel, Night School: They went to her bedroom, where...
The G-word
This post is sexy in that hook in deeply, craniosacral therapy kind of way. I wrote it for my family for our first Father’s Day without my dad. He’s not here anymore but he is certainly not gone~ My craniosacral teacher used the G-word today. Until now, Thomas and all my other craniosacral teachers, have used spiritually neutral terms like potency, source, life force and energy to describe the realm of healing we are accessing with this light touch form of therapy. But it’s day one of a...
Woven
Here’s some more sexy art from the Seattle Erotic Arts Festival… I found myself captivated with the couple in this piece of art entitled ‘Woven’ by fine art photographer Craig Stocks. Here’s what I fictionalized about it: (After my version you’ll get the real story) When Hannah saw the flyer on the wall by the bathroom of her favorite coffee shop, she took a picture of it and texted it to her husband Hank with the caption: Let’s . And now they were at the photographer’s studio:...
Smell The Roses
For your reading pleasure…the story that was accepted by the Literary Arts Division of the Seattle Erotic Arts Festival this year. Smell The Roses I’ve never been one for the romantic gesture of champagne and roses. And dear lord don’t even think about it on Valentine’s Day when every other man is doing as Hallmark dictates. Give me a handful of wildflowers, a hit of Jameson’s from your flask and lay me down in the sage and we can remind each other what it truly means to be free....
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