The silence in Arthur Leyton’s studio was a living thing. It wasn’t an empty silence, but a dense, reverent one, thickened by seventy years of creation and the fine, omnipresent dust of dried clay. Sunlight, heavy and golden as honey, fell through the high north-facing windows, illumi...
Read MoreThe summer heat in the old Brooklyn brownstone was a living thing, thick and honeyed, pressing against the windowsills. I could feel it even in the dim, book-crowded study where Jack worked. Jack. Professor Jack Thomas, to his students. To me, for the last year, a constellation of fascinating con...
Read MoreThe email arrived at 11:47 PM on a Thursday.From: Victoria Chen, Senior PartnerTo: James MorrisonSubject: Revision needed on Caldwell briefJames – Need you in my office first thing tomorrow. 6 AM. The brief needs significant work before the morning meeting. Don't be late....
Read MoreThe chrome and neon of the lower sectors of Aethelstadt blurred into a throbbing, synaptic pulse. Kaelen moved through the crowds not as a man, but as a vessel of want. His skin, threaded with sub-dermal circuitry, hummed in dissonant sympathy with the city’s core. He was a Conduit, o...
Read MoreThe invitation arrived not as a proposition, but as an atmosphere. It had been woven through months of lazy Sunday mornings in bed, of whispered fantasies shared in the safe, warm dark between them. For Clara and Mateo, their love was a fortress, its walls not built to keep the world out, but to ...
Read MoreJames had always been curious about anal play, but he’d never brought it up with his partner, Lisa. They had a loving, open relationship, yet the idea felt intimidating—taboo, even. What if she thought it was weird? What if it hurt? But after stumbling upon an article about prostate p...
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