Sunday Snippet from my gay Victorian fae romance collection, Tales from Blackthorn Briar, a sequel to Oak King Holly King featuring hurt/comfort and many happily-ever-afters – available wherever fine books are found!
A gentleman stood at the bottom of the stair.
Not, Ephraim realised with a sinking heart, Lofthouse or Felix. The gentleman stood far too tall to pass for either—more in line with Tolhurst or Butcher. As he turned his face upward to meet Ephraim’s stare, he revealed a face which couldn’t have seen many days beyond thirty years. And a handsome face, at that. One that bore a sun-kissed brow, dark yet twinkling eyes, a long nose with a noble arch, a jaw strong enough to attract notice even beneath the close-trimmed black beard, and full lips beneath the moustache that wore a smile like sunshine breaking through storm-clouds.
Ephraim’s pulse gave an uncomfortable flutter, as it sometimes did when he arose too quickly from his desk.
“Good morrow, sir!” said the gentleman in a hearty tone. Ephraim couldn’t quite place his accent—a very slight one, with a touch of a burr and a hint of a lilt which defied all efforts to pin it down. The deep bass of his voice thrummed through Ephraim’s own ribs in a manner which made his knees feel weak for reasons beyond rheumatism.
Ephraim put these feelings away into a little locked drawer in his mind, as he always did, and cleared his throat.