I just got a copy of my new cover for The Glass Man, which was my very first published story with Torquere! Like my new cover for Ice, I took advantage of Torquere’s offer to replace their older covers with new ones that didn’t have their old logos on them.
And, I’m proud to say, I actually took this photo. Yes, that is, in fact, my own left hand! It was no easy feat, shooting with one hand, trying to keep the rose wet so and in the right position so I would get the effect of my star filter, and trying to hurry before I lost the sunlight. I shot this on the edge of my swimming pool, so the blue in the background is actually water. The new cover should be available shortly.
Here’s the blurb:
Seductive and passionate, Zalen is the perfect sex slave. But his owners don’t know the past that Zalen is hiding,, and no one sees the pain in his soul that he seeks to drown in the oblivion of sex. Until one night when he is bought by a radiantly beautiful young lord with a penchant for roses who asks for the one service Zalen is afraid provide — love.
By the time Zalen realizes that the touch he craves is the touch of a rose, it is going to take every bit of the lord’s love to set Zalen free again.
And here’s an excerpt:
A woman answered his knock, and he saw from her downcast eyes and uniform that she was a servant. “Zalen?” she asked, and he nodded.
“The lord of the house would like you to wait in the ballroom at the end of the hall. He asked that you tell him he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.”
“All right,” Zalen said.
“Your money will be on the table when you leave.” She patted a marble table beside the door, next to a vase of red roses.
The ballroom was large and marble-tiled. Hanging from the ceiling was a magnificent chandelier dripping with precious stones, but it was not lit. The ballroom was the loneliest one Zalen had ever seen, and he’d performed in many before coming here. The acoustics would be good, he thought, turning around, gauging the place. He imagined his band set up on the stage, imagined climbing the stairs to take his place, holding his breath as the first chord flew from his fingers, filling the room with sound.
Lost in memory, he didn’t hear anything until the lord of the house was halfway down the sweeping staircase. As Zalen turned and saw him, in his mind he was still the musician, still full of music, not the slave.
And the first words came from his mouth without a thought. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” He held up the rose.
The lord smiled and flushed. His hair was long, silky, and black, his eyes crystal blue, and the red robe that swirled around his slender form sparkled with jewels. Radiance clung to him.
Zalen knelt with the rose clasped to his breast, and then raised his head and offered it.
Buy The Glass Man HERE