Nature-Inspired Sexy

My Second Shame

Posted by on Jul 18, 2018

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…

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Sexy Excerpt: Seduced By A River

Posted by on Jun 2, 2018

The leaves are just starting to unfurl here in Colorado at 9,000 feet. In this sexy excerpt from my soon-to-be-republished erotic memoir, Seduced By A River, my man wasn’t here to share them with me. Longing, my muse, loves to have her way with me…

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Wild Irish Rose

Posted by on Jul 26, 2015

I had a lover in college who called me his Wild Irish Rose. He was even wilder and more Irish than me, so we never progressed beyond the fun sex and friendship. The woods around my cabin are laced with the pink blossoms of wild roses right now. As I hike among them, my thoughts keep drifting to that time of my budding sexuality. I was nineteen and hungry to explore my sexuality.  He was twenty-three, my Trustafarian roommate’s best friend, and happy to oblige. I remember how my body craved sex , like chocolate but 100 times stronger.  I remember calling him him at 10:00 on a Friday night and...

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Farewell Kiss

Posted by on May 19, 2015

I get off on winter. So last Sunday when I woke up at my cabin to four inches of fresh snow, I was outside in the gray dawn, arms flung open, spinning around like it was confetti.   Because metaphorically it is. Despite what my gardening friends would say, May snowstorms in Colorado are reason to celebrate. They translate to wildflowers in June; whitewater in July; and creeks that still dance in August.  They keep the aspens’ bark silver and their leaves shimmering gold in September. Snow in May means that the words drought and fire, words that are burning on the parched lips of...

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Tasting Autumn

Posted by on Sep 10, 2014

The other day I was sitting in meditation on my deck and when I opened my eyes the meadow in front of me was so green that I felt like I’d been fast forwarded into spring. It’s been the most luscious summer I can remember here in the Rocky Mountains. Our big-snow winter morphed into a cool rainy spring that came and went all summer and never really left. As I flowed into my yoga practice under clouds heavy with rain, it seemed like the surrounding aspen leaves aren’t turning yellow this year. They are just begrudgingly giving up their green.       But there is no stopping Her. As...

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