half bad

Joe caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass door, the faint grey ghost of a figure reaching forward to grasp the brass handle. Joe grinned and felt a quick self-conscious laugh as the faded vision reminded him he didn’t look half bad. “I should get a haircut,” he murmured, pushing the curly mop of hair back from his forehead. “Next week,” Joe finished, shaking his head, contemplating his schedule. A tug erased the image and led him back inside the tall office building.

Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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