I’ve had a relaxing summer, spending time outdoors and swimming in a nearby lake in between finally finishing writing Lilith: Beyond the Deluge.
It’s been several years in the making and I’ve had the most difficult time writing it. It is inspired by ancient Mesopotamian lore, like the first two books in the Lilith series. I drew inspiration from the flood accounts in the book of Genesis, the epic of Gilgamesh, and the Puranas, as well as the book of Inanna. Then I took (a lot) more creative license to fill in what seems like a simple children’s bedtime story.
It is a supernatural and occult fantasy, a genre I love to read. I took the pressure off myself to make erotica. I let the characters speak through me and only wrote sex scenes when the story called for it. The result was incredibly organic, connected, and hot sex scenes, as you can expect from a slut like me who writes from experience. I poured a lot of my life, not just sex, into the stories that make up Lilith: Beyond the Deluge. It is the most personal volume in the Lilith series. I can’t wait to share it with you.
Today I begin recording and producing the audiobook. Stayed tuned for a Scorpio season release.
Love, Lust, and Liberty,
P.S. A little social round up:
Earlier in the summer I did a little survey on gas prices around the world and learned that Singapore pays for it the most!
When navigating good vs. evil, bring a popsicle to keep you hydrated.
Also ICYMI I went on an early morning ride in a hot air balloon. It was exhilarating! An unforgettable experience that made me fantasize about a hot air balloon gang bang 1500 feet above the ground.
Happy New Year! The Water Tiger symbolizes courage, strength, and renewal. But when it comes to love and sex, it is important to exercise tact, reserve, and care when expressing your affection. Respect your lover and respect yourself. Be mindful of what is essential. Don’t be distracted by momentary disagreements. Life is short. Memento mori. Choose love.
If you don’t already know which of the 12 zodiac animals you belong to, check the wheel below for the animal that corresponds to your birth year. If you were born on the month of January, it might get a little tricky for you. Since the Chinese go by the Lunar Calendar, some or all of January goes under the previous year’s sign. Here is a Chinese Animal Zodiac Sign Calculator to find out exactly what your sign is.
Do you know which animal zodiac sign you are? Then let me give you my Love & Sex Predictions for the coming Year of the Water Tiger.
Dear Rats, you will need all the luck you can scrounge up on this Year of the Water Tiger. Single Rats, play the field and hold off on making any commitments. Partnered Rats will need to work hard on relationships. Be more attentive to your lover’s needs. Watch for verbal and non-verbal cues for what would turn your lover on. Wear lucky colors red and blue to channel some good luck your way.
Most compatible signs: Ox is that strong sexy complement to your personality. Dragon and you have a lot in common. Monkey makes you so giddy happy.
Least compatible: Don’t hitch your wagon on Horse. Nothing you do will ever be good enough. Goat just wants your money. Rabbit can’t help but do the opposite of what you want. Beware!
Ox, your perseverance in the previous year will be rewarded soon. If you are single, keep your eyes peeled for The One and seize the moment. Wear lucky color yellow to boost your confidence. You got this. If you are partnered, you can expect a harmonious relationship this coming year, as long as you curb that tendency to overwork. Resist the idea that simply plowing your lover in bed late at night is sufficient. Be diligent in your foreplay to earn your reward.
Most compatible signs: Rat balances your rigid personality. Snake is romantic and supportive of your work. Rooster will love you with loyalty.
Least compatible: You will clash with Goat. Horse has too much of a free spirit to take you seriously. You have nothing in common with Dog. Don’t waste your time.
Tigers, get ready for passion, intimacy, and juicy romance this year. If you are single, don’t be surprised if you suddenly get all kinds of hot sexy attention. If you are partnered, there will be a deepening of emotional understanding between you. Want to explore a new aspect of your sexuality? Trust that your partner will go there with you. Wear orange and black to make the most of that powerful Tiger energy.
Most compatible signs: Pig may be your opposite but you can really be yourselves with each other. Horse is irresistible to you. Dog brings out your gentle side.
Least compatible: Monkey and you will always argue. A relationship with Snake will be full of suspicions and coldness. Stay away.
Rabbits, what have you been hiding? It’s time to confess the passion and emotion in your heart to that special someone or you just might watch them disappear from your life. If you are partnered, you may want to spice things up but make sure you exercise care in how you express it. Assure your lover how much you care and want to share excitement together. Wear purple to increase your luck in love.
Most compatible: Dog will be happy to live a peaceful life with you. Pig and you have a lot in common. Goat needs you and you love taking care of that horny Goat.
Least compatible: Rooster and you will argue about the littlest things. Dragon and you may seem like you have a lot in common but alas, you two clash. Rat is tricky, too, because it will take time before differences between you will appear and by then, it will be impossible to agree on anything.
Dragons, the Year of the Water Tiger will be a roller coaster ride of sexual exploits and experiences. Remember not to get too caught up in a whirlwind of emotions. Focus on improving communication for both single and partnered Dragons. Wear white to clarify your intentions. If you speak to your lover with respect, tact, and care, you can pretty much get everything you want.
Most compatible: Rooster worships you and will do anything for you. Monkey and you are a creative explosion together, just watch out for Monkey’s tricks. Rat’s humor and reliability attracts your stubborn nature.
Least compatible: You and Dog can’t understand or trust each other. Rabbit and you have similarities, but you can only tolerate each other to a certain point. You also clash with other Dragons. There can only be one!
Snake: 1941, 1953, 1965, 1977, 1989, 2001, 2013
Snakes, the Year of the Water Tiger will throw many unexpected twists your way. Partnered Snakes may get into misunderstandings. Single Snakes may be tempted to tangle with complicated ex-es. Stay grounded. Be clear about your motives. Put that sexy tongue to good use when speaking and when pleasuring your lover. Wear tangerine for luck.
Most compatible: Monkey and you have similarities. You admire Rooster’s good taste and ability to avoid getting eaten up by you. Ox grounds you and is a reliable anchor.
Least compatible: Tiger is too suspicious and cold. Pig will tolerate you, but can’t trust you. I mean, you’re a Snake! And admittedly, Pig is good eatin’!
Horse: 1942, 1954, 1966, 1978, 1990, 2002, 2014
Horses, stop overthinking and let your heart lead the way. Single horses end the loneliness this Year of the Water Tiger. Open yourself up to your sensual nature. If you are partnered, appreciate the effort your partner puts into your relationship and reciprocate! Go for a sexy ride together, maybe even a jaunt in the great outdoors. Feel the wind in your mane and the muscles in your body. Wearing red and blue is good for you.
Most compatible: Goat’s tenderness will make you feel content. Tiger will try hard to win you. Dog will be your loyal partner.
Least compatible: Rat will clash with you. Save yourselves the pain. Ox will be difficult to communicate with. Other Horses are great to work with but too similar to be compatible in love.
Goat: 1943, 1955, 1967, 1979, 1991, 2003, 2015
Goats, listen to the people you love. That means, family and friends. That also especially means your lover. The key to your happiness this Year of the Water Tiger lies in your ability to understand your lover’s needs. Don’t lock horns over minor disagreements. Is it really worth it? Honestly, train your ears to your lover’s voice and respond with a loving yes. Single Goats can look forward to unexpected flings this year so dress your best always (make sure your underwear is on point, too). Wear yellow for luck.
Most compatible: Horse makes up for your shortcomings, and vice versa. Rabbit is dependable. Pig is warm and gentle.
Least compatible: Ox and you can be so stubborn and uncompromising. Rat and you easily misunderstand each other. Dog and you have very few things in common.
Monkeys, you are clearly the King and Queen of the swingers this coming year. Single Monkeys want passion and exploration, but no commitments. That’s all good as long as you communicate clearly with your fuck buddies or FWBs. That goes for partnered Monkeys as well. Trust is the currency of the swing set. Balance honesty with tact. Baby blue is your lucky color.
Most compatible: Snake is either your hottest lover or your coldest foe. Rat cheers you up like no other. Dragon inspires you.
Least compatible: Tiger will fight you constantly. Pig doesn’t have the same interests and life goals as you.
Roosters, you are comfortable in your nest. You don’t want to change a thing. Partnered Roosters are smooth sailing. Single Roosters stay single, maybe even too preoccupied with work. But seriously, lift your head every so often and look around. Notice that one person that has been with you right from the start. That one who supports you and is there for you through thick or thin. At some point this year, you are going to have to fight for that person. Make sure you do. Wear yellow for luck.
Most compatible: Dragon’s accomplishments make you proud and you love to boost from behind. Snake gets you, your life and dreams. Ox is honest and a steady partner.
Least compatible: Rabbit has contrasting opinions that clash with yours. Dog and you can tolerate each other but it’s always tense. Who wants to live with all that tension? Other Roosters fight with you often and can’t compromise. Don’t get caught in a constant cockfight.
Dogs, take a leap of faith this Year of the Water Tiger. Let life surprise you with all its glory. Single Dogs bump into long lost friends. Partnered Dogs reignite the passion that drew them together in the first place. Take the time to reminisce about the good times. Make some new memories, perhaps even some sweet escapades to look back on with fondness. Wear an understated grey for luck.
Most compatible: Rabbit is kind and supportive. Tiger is reassuring and needs your loyalty. Horse understands and respects you.
Least compatible: Dragon and you are distrustful of one another. You will have intense arguments with each other. Ox and you have dissimilar interests. Goat and you tolerate each other, but that’s it.
Pigs, are you ready to move out of your comfort zone and reach for something new? Cast aside your doubts and take a chance on love. Trust that the stars are on your side. Single Pigs, I’m talking to you. Partnered Pigs, it is an auspicious year to tie the knot. Pigs in long term commitments, you may be curious about exploring polyamory. Communicate with care. Wear yellow for luck.
Most compatible: Tiger is brave and makes you feel secure. Rabbit wants to snuggle up and bask in your intelligence. You have a lot of common interests with Goat.
Least compatible: Snake will eat you alive. A relationship with Monkey will be full of tension.
Was my prediction for your zodiac sign helpful? Let me know in the comments what your sign is and what your love & sex game plan is going to be on this Year of the Water Tiger. Good luck to you! Roar!
First Hump Day of 2021. How is your work week so far? I am starting the year with a daily yoga practice. So far so good, 6 out of 6 days in.
I’ve done yoga off and on for years but haven’t connected to it until now. During the latter part of the past year I rediscovered it, paying special attention to the first chakra.
All summer I ran around barefoot in the backyard imagining roots growing out of my feet and digging deep into the ground, absorbing the nutrients of the soil, nourishing me from toes to the crown of my head. I repeated a mantra, “I belong here.”
As an immigrant, someone who has moved around a bit, I can be rootless, sometimes escapist. At best my escapism fuels creativity. At worst I may be avoidant and non-confrontational of problems or difficulties in life. Whenever Jay and I fought, and we did fiercely, my instincts were to fight or flight.
I started doing yoga when it got too cold. My appreciation, adoration, and reverence for the first chakra deepened. I am learning to ground myself in the strength of my butt hole before reaching to the heavens.
Give your ass some love and everything else will align, stacked neatly on top of it.
Thank you for appearing to me in my dream. You look beautiful! The whole dream was lit in the romance I have come to see in places and people I miss. I am in an old Spanish style house in an unknown Philippine province. I am putting clothes away in a cabinet. The capiz shell windows glow in the sun. It is high noon but cool indoors. I hear a tricycle pull up outside, bags being loaded. I go out and there you are, about to get on that tricycle.
“I’m going back to Manila,” you say. “Come with me.”
I shake my head. “Not right now.”
I really want to, but I decide not to. I still have things to do. I don’t think too hard about it.
So I watch you go off on that tricycle kicking up sepia dust on that bright sunny day. I’m filled with joy having caught a glimpse of your otherworldly beauty. I feel the loss of having chosen to stay behind.
I woke up crying and realizing the impact of another dream I had, about a month before you died. I didn’t give much importance to it at the time. I blogged about it, but didn’t name you, or let you know it was you. I was embarrassed. It revealed more than I was willing to share.
In the dream I was walking along a beach with you. There are two guys with us. I don’t recognize any of them in my lexicon of real life guys, but in this dream world we are hanging out with them. You throw off your clothes and jump in the water. The guys follow quickly. I fumble with the buttons on my white shirt. It is taking me so long to undress. I woke before I am able to join you skinny dipping.
I didn’t understand it then. I didn’t see that dream as a premonition. I felt remorse for being too late, regret for moments I let pass because of some stupid reason or another, a crippling awkwardness about things. A little over a month after my dream, you slipped into a coma and died.
One of these days I will be able to join you in the ocean or ride away on a tricycle. Maybe I’ll catch you the next time you come around. As the sky goes dark tonight, I am reminded that pain is not the enemy. It merely points the way to the wound. Before we tend to it, we have to understand what the injury is. We have to allow ourselves to experience it. Then we can take steps toward healing and transformation.
I suppose a lot of fallen beings now miss The Garden’s heavenly Fruits. And I’ll tell you why:
In that place exists Complete Bliss. A Fruit—any Fruit—plucked from its enchanted trees, and savored garden-fresh is guaranteed to bring you to the Ultimate of your Being—no matter what level of Be-ing you might be at the moment. This is an experience many seek, for both enlightenment and pleasure, and it is because of this service that many bitter beings—those denied access and who sulk salivating hungrily at the Gates—call it The Cosmic Brothel.
Yes, dear friends. In The Garden one could find the Supreme Fuck, and reach the mind-shaking, soul-stirring Orgasm that could fire up your neurons swifter than Hermes on speed and expand your consciousness faster and greater than Zephyrus could ever impress with his smoke-rings.
In The Garden, Orgasms are made into Legends. That rumor about Osiris and Isis making out in The Nile and a crocodile biting off Osiris’ Venerable Dick? It occurred Right Here, when he won Isis (then a plump, ripe, rare Fruit-Woman specimen, in bloom only for every dozen millennia) in a game of dice, and chose to hump his prize in the Stream of Mother’s Milk where a gameful lizard nipped at his member. Strengthened by the milk, Isis was blessed with the awareness to search for the still-throbbing penis while Osiris howled in unholy pain. You all know that the search proved futile, but since then every being was aware of who wore the proverbial pants in the family.
Isis was one of the few fruits to achieve Deity-status, which she probably earned by impressing upon everyone that the heat that possessed her loins equaled only the determination to find her mate’s penis. There’s nothing like a single-minded, driven woman, and she got her due reward! They never found the real organ, but being the cosmic beings they were, they discovered alternative ways to get it on, and always, in the warm creaminess of the Stream, which, in their more affectionate moments, they called their “mother”. It is because of this, perhaps, that some have thought Isis and Osiris sister and brother.
There were clouds and rain on the forecast but it was sunny on the morning of my birthday. Maybe a little windy, but the sun felt warm on my bare skin. https://t.co/2CZnCaACNNpic.twitter.com/fa595Z0C33
I put on the antlers Jay bought me a few days ago. It made me happy to run around naked in the woods behind our house where many a herd of deer have passed through. I keep a pile of fruit and vegetable scraps at the edge of the wood year round, but winter is when the wild life need it most.
I hiked to the top of this cliff. Jay took my photos from the bottom of the rocky hill.
It was a perfect autumn morning. The wind prickled my skin and the sun soothed it. Pine needles on the bald rocks felt slippery under my bare feet. https://t.co/2CZnCaACNNpic.twitter.com/L69UUNw9Ly
I went down on all fours like a beast, waving my invisible tail side to side. When I descended he covered me with his arms and told me I was beautiful.
It’s gorgeous out! Gonna get some sun time. Have a beautiful Saturday! Here’s some more from the full set of birthday nudes barefoot outdoors pics at https://t.co/urjztDkZYD 💋
We made love tenderly at first, then dirty, like animals. He filled me and filled me and filled me until I oozed delirious and he was spent.
Every year since 1999 I take a nude photo on my birthday. It’s now a 21-year tradition that will not end in 2020. Life goes on and so will I. This year’s birthday nude is coming soon to https://t.co/2CZnCaACNNpic.twitter.com/phlSkfdPwS
I washed up, got dressed, and picked up our kid from school. I slid to the passenger seat to let her drive us home.
“How was your day?” I asked. She paused before she told me she had a weird day of not much happening in her classes, then at study hall her friend messaged to say that his dad died. He wasn’t ill. He just died. My daughter seemed deeply affected by that. It hit her hard to think that any day, without warning or indication, she could lose either one of her parents, too.
I took a proactive role and said that we should go get food for her friend’s family. We got a whole rotisserie chicken, a vegetable side dish, and yellow chrysanthemums. I told my daughter to text her friend to ask if we could come over with some food. He said yes.
By the time we got out of the grocery store, it was pouring really hard. My daughter drove in the rain to her friend’s house. It was a long way to Hope, which is the next town over from ours. She turned into a dirt road and up a hill. At the top of the hill is her friend’s house. His family had moved here from Illinois just a year ago. The car parked outside still has Illinois plates. Who knows what situation they are in now without the father?
My daughter wanted me to come along with her. She is so shy, my kid. We put on our masks and walked up to the house.
Her friend answered the door. He looked tired. His eyes were red and puffy.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, as I handed him the paper bag full of food.
He said, “None of us feel like cooking.”
“We figured,” I said. I wanted to hug him, but I didn’t know what was right anymore. We ran back to the car to get out of the rain.
When we got home, my daughter baked me a birthday cake while Jay and I made dinner. We talked about life and love. We told stories and laughed. Underneath it all was the thought that death comes for us all, sooner or later. The question isn’t when, it’s how.
We all get to pick our poison. Some people choose alcohol, drugs, sugar. Others have an obsession with thinness and beauty. Then there are those whose passion becomes a poison, revolutionaries, workaholics, lovers of all kinds.
Jay always said he wanted a beautiful woman to kill him. She could be me, killing him slowly, one headache, one heartache, at a time. If my life was a painting, I’ve already messed up the canvas, made many mistakes and accumulated regrets for inaction. It’s time to pull together all the loose ends, the painful lessons, the dark memories of my life and transform it into a beautiful work of art.
That night, as I blew out the candles on my birthday cake, I wished for more time to love him the way he wants to be loved as a unique and extraordinary human. I’ve only just begun to learn how.
Shortly after Lilith: Queen of the Demons was published Jay and I became friends with a young woman named Lillian. She had straight black hair down to her waist, an hourglass figure, and a pretty smile. She used to visit weekly, always dressed impeccably from head to toe. She and Jay spent a lot of time together, cooking and baking all kinds of goodies. They were friends and sometimes they were lovers.
When Lillian was a baby in Vietnam, she suffered a fire injury that required her to undergo surgery. The operation left her without a belly button for the rest of her life. Just like Lilith, who was not born of a human mother, fashioned out of clay by God.
It was uncanny and I thought it auspicious to have her in our lives. There was a point when she began looking for a house to buy in which we could all live together, but it all changed when she met someone else. They got married in a whirl. We never saw her again.
I will always consider her arrival as an otherworldly presence. The divine moves in mysterious ways. I cannot begin to fathom it. I can only be thankful when it happens.
Another strange visitation occurred when I was recording the audiobook for Lilith: Generations of Cain. I didn’t notice it while I recorded, but during playback the angel and demon names were obscured by static.
The first time it happened I got a shiver down my spine. I took a pause, then went back in front of the microphone like a soldier. Every time it happened I got more stubborn and determined to get through the text. Lilith: Generations of Cain is all about the power of names. It seemed to me that a presence, divine or not, was making me work hard to pronounce these holy and unholy names.
This past summer as I worked on Lilith: Beyond the Deluge, I was on a business call with someone who went off tangent about strange situations he had found himself in, seeing supernatural creatures among people in New York City, hearing people’s thoughts from across the room. He said he felt like he could tell me these things he never told anyone. I listened to him for an hour before I wrapped up the conversation and brought it back to business. I asked for his name.
“Michael.”
“You have an ‘el’ name,” I mused. Many of the angels (and some demons) have names that end with ‘el.’ Azazel, Samael, Rafael, Gabriel, Baraqiel, Daniel, Michael…
“Ah, so you know…” He sounded pleased. “It comes from God’s name ‘El Shaddai’ and ‘Elohim.’”
I thanked him again and said goodbye.
Before he hung up he said, “You will hear from me again.”
I thought nothing of it. Even when I pulled out of the garage and saw a crow sitting in a tree across from me I didn’t think to tie anything together.
I should mention that it was a special day, my Dad’s birthday and my (great grand aunt) Lola Ilyang’s death day. I facetimed with my Dad that evening, but the only way I connected with Lola Ilyang was from mysterious events that happened all day: a swarm of bees robbing my hive, the phone call from an angel, the crow in the tree. Everything brought me memories of her.
Laurelia (Lola Ilyang) was a spinster who lived with her little dachshund, Cupsi, in a hut in the middle of a tobacco field in Pangasinan. She was the first witchy woman in my life. She had long salt and pepper hair. She told stories of the kapre smoking her tobacco. She entertained our maids by reading common playing cards for divination.
Ten days after the odd phone call, my mother tagged me in a Facebook post. My college friend died. Deogracias Cruz. Is there a name more God-like than his? The Facebook post contained a video of Deo singing the Prayer to St. Michael.
“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil; May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls. Amen.”
The man on the phone said I would hear from him again. I did not know it would be this way.
That afternoon Jay invited me out to the temple he had built in our backyard, overgrown with yarrow and lupines in the spring; tansy, mint, and goldenrod in the late summer. Jay spent the summer clearing around an arrangement of rocks and made paths to it. He decorated the place with Hindu gods and goddesses, Balinese wooden animals, and a statue of Quan Yin. There is a bed of marbles of various sizes, a solar system at the foot of a wooden frog. A Nag Champa cone burned and dripped smoke down a path in the rocks. As soon as the incense burned out, it started to rain. Thunder. We went inside.
I made chicken soup from scratch. It’s a long process that begins with boiling a chicken carcass into broth. My daughter named it “Mama’s famous chicken soup” way back when a butcher in California used to gift me with chicken carcasses whenever I came around his shop. I set aside a wishbone for my collection. I keep several wishbones in a little teapot. I realize it’s kind of witchy but it makes me feel lucky.
It doesn’t hurt anymore, though. Good to know I’m not allergic, just feeling stupid and sorry that my fierce little honeybee had to die to teach me a lesson. There is nothing I can do to bring her back, no offering or apology. All I can do is learn from experience. I should not have gone into the middle frames at all. Delicate stuff, making babies. It’s life or death in there. I should have respected their inner chamber. That’s where the magic happens.
One month since my bees moved in and they are a thriving busy hive. I’ve seen a drone, a male whose only job is to fuck the Queen with his endophallus, pop off into her Queen V, then die shortly after. A queen typically gets gangbanged and creampied by up to 20 drones in an afternoon. It’s enough cum for her to lay eggs the rest of her life.
Queen Puabee is productive and beautiful! Her all-female worker bees are attentive and protective. When I went into the two middle frames a small army attacked me. I was wearing a beekeeping veil and jacket, but one of the worker bees stung my thigh right through my skinny Levi’s. I suck at making a smoker so I had no smoke and I don’t want to smoke my bees out anyway, so I walked about twenty feet off and lit my smoker again and surprisingly it worked and I smoked myself out until the bees left me. Then I went back, closed their hive back up, and filled their feeder with simple syrup.
Just two weeks earlier on the 14th day beehive inspection, they weren’t as fiercely protective yet. Get a glimpse of Queen Puabee in this video — she is marked with blue paint on her thorax — and listen to me get all excited about larvae.
