Lan wears the night like a vinyl bodysuit. It sits close to his skin, whispers between his legs when he walks, and crinkles when he crouches. Obsidian eyes pierce the darkness, shimmering cold and lethal from the shadows. Midnight hair lashes at the pale flesh of his forehead and cheeks, writhes with angry energy over his collar. Cruel mouth, fierce cheekbones, and rock-solid chin add to, rather than detract from, his appeal. Oh yes, he's handsome—in that fascinating, dangerous sort of way. To see him move is to witness liquid steel captured beneath a sheath of rippling rubber, tight and easy, grace brought to life in a body made for posing and brawling and fucking.

...Excerpt from "Solemn Scream," by Angel Leigh McCoy

Choose your poison.

 
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