I'm a writer. I write m/m erotica. Kind of dark stuff, even though in real life I like rainbows and puppies and kittens. Not all at once though. That would be overwhelming.
This book was not what I expected...and sometimes that's a good thing.
There is much more emotional depth here than I had anticipated.
Who is the Muse anyway? Just another piece of art for the Dark Collector to own? That's what I thought. That's what the Muse thought, too. We were both wrong. In fact, the Dark Collector wants more from the Muse than that; possibly more than the Muse has it in him to give.
The Muse has been defined for so long by how others see him. They see him how Jeffrey painted him, at once incredibly intimate yet also still only an object. The Muse's refusal to let the Dark Collector use his name is at the heart of this. He is hiding behind his own objectification. The Dark Collector can pay for his body, but that's all he'll get. He won't get what Jeffrey had.
Actually, he might get more.
Read this. Don't be put off by the BDSM. The scenes are hot, and hardcore, but they're underpinned by such wonderful emotion that it's always about more than two bodies.
This isn't a HEA, because this isn't the end of the journey. This is just the beginning. More, please.