I am a story-teller before I am a writer. The red tail hawks that circle around my path become the mana. My writing resonates with the unique and the unusual. That being said, never in my most vivid imagination did I think I could write erotica and manage to intertwine my love of research into it. Each story is written with elements of truth. Train Sex Money was my biggest challenge. Could I make sex the focus while still telling a story? But the most daunting tale I ever wrote was Weeping Angel of Death. My first sci-fi. The story-line includes some bestiality. As a product of private Catholic school my grand-mother would turn over in her grave if she knew of this. The nuns and priests would expect nothing less from me. Writing erotica feels as though I've discovered an ancient secret. It's so much more fun to write short stories. It's so much more enjoyable to write for the sake of telling/sharing a story. My only wish is that I had more time to read. So many of the author's on Lush are astoundingly talented! Some of the short stories, novels and poetry are like a delicious treat. Lush is truly a place of inspiration and a sobering grounding of self.
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Sometimes she was as wild as the vines that grow madunderfoot. “Because I'm still in love with you I want to see you dance again. Because I'm still in love with you on this harvest moon,” she sang out loud. Long strands of copper hair cascaded in waves around her. She swayed her body back and forth, moving to the music playing in her thoughts. “Hop in babe.” He lifted her up into...
Added 31 Jul 2015 | Category Love Stories
| Votes 5 | Avg Score 4.8
| Views 3,349
| 1 Comment
When he cooked, the entire kitchen was galvanized by the strength he put into it; the dishes, pans, knives, everything bore the brunt of his strength, and everything was challenged, forced to cook, to boil. He was a beast of a man, unrefined. His fingers thick and dented from the way he conquered the vegetables with his sharp knife. His arm marked by red streaks from boiling water that raised...
Added 19 Sep 2014 | Category Love Stories
| Votes 3 | Avg Score 4.33
| Views 3,411
| 1 Comment
Cosmos In the beginning, Source projected the cosmos using music, arithmetic and geometry. He patterned souls after his Source spirit, mind and individuality. Angels were given the divine right to serve as co-creators of the universe. They mingled with the dust of stars and the spheres of winds. Feeling them, becoming part of them. Earth held the position of the third dimension in...
Added 03 Sep 2014 | Category Fantasy & Sci-Fi
| Votes 1 | Avg Score 5
| Views 3,401
| 2 Comments
Her hair was the color of golden wheat, like her mother’s. She was beautiful but not in a coveted manner, her eyes were not the color of the sea. Nor was she a graceful swan with porcelain skin. She was beautiful in the way the wind dances through hair, of black coffee in the morning, in the way the ocean kisses the shore. She was beautiful because she refused to taste the sadness of her fate. ...
Added 20 Aug 2014 | Category Seduction
| Votes 1 | Avg Score 3
| Views 4,183
| 1 Comment
I’m not fascinated by people who smile all the time. What I find interesting is the way people look when they are lost in thought, when they bite their lip, the way they look down when the conversation has stopped, the way their faces say they want to say something but can’t. I watch when they are alone and smoking a cigarette. I smile at the way they carry on a phone conversation as if no...
Added 07 Aug 2014 | Category Voyeur
| Votes 17 | Avg Score 4.88
| Views 7,693
| 8 Comments
An Anniversary to Remember The harvest had given way to the last month of winter in San Francisco. A young couple walked along the old pier, a pier which is simply called the Muni pier by most locals. The fisherman cast out by the rocks which contour the shoreline area. The seagulls, wheeling and crying calling out to one another as they dove, wings skimming the surface above the foam...
Added 07 May 2014 | Category Supernatural
| Votes 2 | Avg Score 5
| Views 3,611
| 1 Comment
The girl was eighteen, when a new friend invited her to hang out with her after school. It was supposed to be just another day, the kind of day where you open your eyes, hug your pillow wishing you could stay in bed and sleep, but know that it isn’t possible. The routine of putting on the same uniform and shoes, brushing your teeth, your hair and eating a bowl of cereal is predictable, meant...
Added 03 May 2014 | Category BDSM
| Votes 8 | Avg Score 4.88
| Views 12,007
| 5 Comments
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