GENRE: Lesbian Fantasy Spicy Romance
LENGTH: 8,245 words
RATING:

When enigmatic gallery owner Eury Thanasis invites her to tour a private collection, blind sculptor Cass Baird expects to gain an eccentric patron. Instead, she meets a woman who is larger than life: a figure from myth cursed to turn those she loves into stone. And she wants to commission a statue, carved without compromise. Cass should walk away. But Eury offers money, creative freedom, and something Cass hasn’t felt in years: inspiration.

As Cass works, the line between artist and subject, truth and seduction, begins to blur. Touch becomes obsession. Stories intertwine as two women are bound by loss, secrets, and the idea of being cursed.

When Eury finally reveals what lies beneath her silken headwrap, Cass must decide whether she is Eury’s savior, her destroyer, or simply her next masterpiece.

EXCERPT:
Note: may contain sexually explicit scenes of a homoerotic nature.

Cass could have stormed out. She knew approximately where the door was. She could loudly demand to be returned to the lobby and the nervous young man by the door. But part of her was curious. It had been a long time since she had felt anything but revulsion.

“I still want to commission a piece from you. The offer I made to your agent is very much on the table, now that I know you are what you say you are.”

Cass bristled. “You already have Iphigeneia.”

“I do. And a few others.” Eury sighed, waved a hand through the air. “But I’m a collector of rare things. I want something new, something unique. Bespoke. Personal.”

“You want me to sculpt you,” Cass guessed. “That’s what this is. Vanity?” She barked a humorless laugh. “You’re going to have to get in line behind every woman who’s ever asked me to make her immortal.”

“I don’t need immortality, darling,” Eury said casually. “I’ve got that in spades. I want a Cassandra Baird original.”

Cass tilted her head, trying to read the air. Her stomach twisted.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re not afraid to see what’s ugly. You put it in stone, even in your most idealized, most tender work.”

Very few had noticed her devotion to flaws. The chickenpox scar at Iphigeneia’s temple, the ripple of cellulite in her buttocks, the slightly uneven breasts. These imperfections were carved with love. Eury saw that.

Cass folded her arms. “You think flattery’s going to get you a sculpture?”

“I think you need money,” Eury said simply. “And I think you’re bored.”

The blow landed exactly as intended. Clean. Unsentimental.

Eury pressed on. “You came here out of curiosity. You stayed because I scared you. But you haven’t left yet. You want to hear the offer.”

Cass’s jaw tightened.

“Triple your usual rate,” Eury said. “No gallery meddling. No nosy patrons. Just you. And me. And whatever it is you think I deserve, in the end.”

Cass considered it. Her every instinct screamed no, but the artist in her -- that part that still ached for something raw, something new to inspire her -- whispered, if not yes, then at least why the hell not?

Her fingers clenched around her slim cane, her body fighting its natural reflexes. Something was wrong here, and she knew it. But the offer was tempting.

“I’ll need a studio,” she said at last.

“Done.”

“And we play by my rules.”

“Of course.”

Cass finally faced her fully. “This doesn’t make us friends.”

Eury’s smile was a curve of something old and dangerous, a threat unseen and thus unheeded. “Gods don’t need friends.”

Cass snorted. She had been fetishized before, but this Medusa schtick was a new one.

“I’ll have my assistant deliver the contract,” Eury said lightly, as if she hadn’t just assaulted a blind woman and then played it off as a business strategy. Psycho.

Cass didn’t answer her. She was already walking away, the soft tap of her cane finding the edge of the rug at the doorway.

At the threshold, she paused. She didn’t turn back.

“You touch me again without warning,” she said, “and I’ll break your fucking hand.”

Cass stepped into the corridor without waiting for a reply.