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A gorgeous musky plum scent - celebratory and seasonal with a touch of elegance. A trio of lush plum accords and a dash of ripe fig stirred into creamy spiced vanilla pudding over a bed of sensual Egyptian musk.


PLUM ~ Inspires & maintains love, protects dwelling against evil and intrusion.
FIG ~ Wisdom, fertility, love, luck, protection, aids restful sleep, divination. Feminine sexuality.
VANILLA ~ Aphrodisiac, inspires happiness, playfulness, sexual arousal, lust, vitalizing.
NUTMEG ~ Strengthens clairvoyance, luck, money, health, fidelity.
EGYPTIAN MUSK ~ Self confidence and strength, sexual attractant, heightens passions and arousal.


Created by: Mara Fox

Description: Julie (luna65)

Label art:

December 2014


Review Thread


The plum is the promise within Winter, I’d always been told. We were all warned to have a care for those signs within the snowy landscape, hints that Fae magic was afoot, to avoid possible enchantment. For they desire us, so fair and full of flesh as the old song says...but I had been dreaming of finding a perfectly ripe purple plum in my path as I made my daily sojourn through the forest, skirting the overgrown orchard which we never ventured into - there was ancient wild magic within the trees, which produced tempting fruit any time it was desired, but to taste of it was to be taken under the hill into the Summerlands, and held for an eternity in our mortal reckoning. Fearful, I’d asked my grandmother if it meant I was to be the tithe, as the elders of our village held an uneasy alliance with Fae. Because I also saw him in my dream - he plucked the plum from the path and took a bite - I could taste the sweetness of its’ jewel-like flesh, the juice upon my chin, the tang of its’ taut skin - and by the dazzling beauty of his sea-glass eyes and the tilt of his faun face, he was telling me I was the plum - winter’s bounty and winter’s promise - to dwell with him evermore in the land of sunlight and endless green. I looked out the window at the world cloaked in shades of white and gray, the patterns the ice made upon the glass...we were frozen within this silent realm, dreaming of warmth. I opened the door and could smell the sweet plum blossoms upon the wind, hear distant music - pipes and bells and drums - calling for the light and calling to me, as my feet began to tap unconsciously, As I quickly donned my boots, my long woolen coat, gloves and hat and scarf, and stepped into the new drifts of snow outside the door, I realized that my grandmother had never answered my question.

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