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In many respects “Secrets of Liberty Mountain” is an autobiography of a life that never happened.
I have been a writer and community journalist, on and off, for about forty years. This is my first venture into writing fiction and is also my first foray the world of erotic story telling. I enjoy the genre but am often dismayed at the lack of believable details accompanying many novels. I do not live in a world where every female is a contender for Ms. Universe and every man endowed with a package of above average junk.
I decided "Secrets of Liberty Mountain" would be a different kind of erotic novel: fun, sexy, populated by normal folks engaged in life under extraordinary circumstances. Our hero is a 100% Disabled Vietnam Veteran in an unusual May-December love affair. He does not realize is that his new lover is also one of the founding members of an off-the-grid all women survival community hidden deep in the mountains of western Colorado.
The ‘clothing optional’ lesbian commune actually did happen. Back in the 1970s, my girlfriend and I spent a good chunk of one summer living with seven lesbians who decided clothing limited their free expression of sexuality. Given the choice of either removing my clothing or removing myself from their company, I disrobed and helped feed the flying bugs of northern Maine. Living with a group of naked lesbians was frustrating. I felt like the guy who starved to death in a cookie factory because he had lockjaw.
My life has been a remarkable adventure. I once was the publisher and editor of a large regional newspaper, I’ve been invited to the White House two times, was active in the Vietnam Veterans Against the War, served as John Kerry’s campaign manager in Fitchburg, and played chess with Boris Spassky 20 years after shaking the hand of Bobby Fisher. I was twice elected selectman in my hometown and have served as a church elder for thirty years.
I have reached the point on my journey where there is more scenery in the rear view mirror then there is road ahead. Now that I have retired I have plenty of time to write. And, by the grace of fate, I will write. I have at least five books in my head screaming to be set free.
I’ll write ‘till I drop. I would rather hit the end of the road at full throttle than coast to a stop in the sunset.