Forthcoming Work

He had never called her beautiful. He did not know the word. His fingers, those pale streams of curling smoke, traced the symbols of another time along the curve of her hip. His mouth left violet and azure blossoms down her neck, like the earth awakening to the touch of the spring rain. Onyx eyes devoured her whole. Agneta, a father’s jewel and a prince’s prize, had never felt more beautiful. 

So beautiful, she hoped, that she would break his heart.