“Tack can mean please or thank you, depending on where you put it in a sentence. If you put it at the end, it means please.”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. Got it, right. What else?”
He twisted his fingers between mine and smiled down at me. “Jag älskar dig.”
“What does that mean?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, but what do those words mean?”
He laughed out loud, throwing his head back, his icy blue eyes warming and sparkling.
“That’s what it means: Jag älskar dig—I love you.”
“Oh, right,” I said, laughing a little and strangling the words as I tried to copy him.
“Give me something useful.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t think that’s useful?”
“Oh, sure, if I want to go picking up strange men in strange bars, but seeing as I’m with the only man I want—and he happens to speak English—I think I’m good.”
He smiled widely. “Something useful, eh? Okay, try this: Min svävare är full med ålar.”
I copied the sounds carefully as he grinned at me. I noticed a few passers-by were gazing at me, bewildered.
“Okay, what did I just say, because I have a feeling it was something rude.”
“Would I do that to you?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Probably.”
He leaned down to kiss me. “I wouldn’t do that, I promise.”
“Well, what did I just say, because those people were looking at me funny?”
He shook his head, choking back a laugh.
“Hallen!”
He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay! You said, ‘My hovercraft is full of eels’.”
“What?”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
“Be serious! I’m trying to learn here!”
“Okay. Serious. All right, very serious: Jag vill dela evigheten med dig. I want to share eternity with you.”
“Oh,” I stuttered. “That’s nice.”
“Vill du gifta dig med mig?” Several people stopped to stare.
“What did you just ask me?” I hissed at him, trying to ignore the intense looks we seemed to be collecting.
He held my hand tightly and brought it up to his lips.
“I said, will you marry me?”
I blinked with disappointment. “You’re supposed to be serious now.”
He sank to one knee, still holding my hand. “Laura Anderson, I want to share eternity with you. Will you marry me?”
There was no mistaking the love that filled his voice.
“You … you’re asking me to marry you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“That … that’s quite a useful phrase,” I nodded, slowly. “How do I say ‘yes’ again?”
A huge smile spread across his face. “Ja,” he said. “You say Ja.”
I smiled down at him, tears of happiness blurring my vision.
“For eternity. Ja. My answer is Ja.”
“Hallen, I can’t hold this position any longer.”
“Just a few more minutes—I’m nearly there.”
“You said that half an hour ago!”
“A couple more strokes.”
“Just finish already!”
“So impatient, love.”
“If you don’t let me off of this bed, I’ll be so sore I won’t be able to move!”
“Not seeing a problem with that, Laura.”
She groaned, and the sound went straight to my dick. Whatever she said, I had no intention of letting her leave the bed anytime soon.
In fact…
It was unbelievably difficult painting with a hard-on. Wait, that didn’t come out right. I mean, I didn’t paint with my hard-on; I just had a hard-on while I painted her. Although the same couldn’t be said for Pricasso, the so-called artist who used his member to splash the oils—what you’d call an anatomy of art.
I couldn’t help it and I didn’t want to—I was working on another canvas that showcased my beautiful wife of six months. That was enough to send the blood flowing south; the fact that she was naked meant I wasn’t making things easy on myself.
Frustrated beyond belief, I tossed my brushes to one side and stalked toward her.
“Oh no!” she laughed. “Wash your hands first—you’ll get paint all over me—again!”
I ignored her and started ripping clothes from my body. She made a grab for my belt as I battled my way out of my t-shirt.
We were both right—we didn’t leave the bed for some time, and she was sore when she tried to move.
Hallen Jansen’s ‘Paradise Regained’ exhibition has a depth and maturity that is surprising in an artist who has only just reached the age of 30. In contrast to the angst and depression of last year’s ‘Paradise Lost’, joy and sensual experience are at the heart of his latest work.
Inspired by his wife and muse, the ‘dark lady’ of the earlier exhibition, Jansen thrills with an intense and indulgent exploration of joy.
Flashes of darkness continue to emphasize the artist’s internal dialogue between the influences of positive and negative emotional responses to sexuality, fuelled, perhaps, by his eight years working as an escort.
Great things are surely on the horizon for this exciting and intriguing artist.
I read the article again. The journalist had been clever and done her research, because I’d never once mentioned Laura or the name of my muse while I was being interviewed, despite being asked directly. Although it wouldn’t have taken much to work it out as Laura had attended the preview with me the night before.
I wasn’t worried about it for myself, but I was concerned that being ‘the woman who married a gigolo’ as one online article has described her, would be upsetting.
“You’ve been outed as my muse. What do you think about that, love?”
She shrugged her slim shoulders, hiding the roll of her eyes behind large sunglasses as we sunned ourselves on the balcony of our beach house.
“I don’t think it was much of a secret, Hallen.”
“Do you care?”
She laughed lightly.
“Funny enough, it’s been quite a hit with the women from my book club.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I’ve been fielding calls and texts all morning. Two of them have invited you be the honorary guest at our next meeting. Sonia suggested that we all read Memoirs of a Geisha or Boule de Suif next.”
“You’re really okay with it?”
“Well, as you would say—fuck ‘em. If they want to judge, that’s their problem. I’m through caring what ignorant people who don’t know us might think.”
“And Maggie?”
Laura sighed. “Well, she’s had time to get used to the idea. God, teenagers can be very black-and-white about things.”
I leaned over to nuzzle her neck.
“By the way,” she said, thumping down her book and leaning away from me, “I have a bone to pick with you!”
“What’s that?” I asked warily, on guard because of the sudden chill in her voice.
“I do not have a silver streak in my hair!”
Uh-oh.
“Well, you would if you didn’t color it, love.”
I thought my reply was reasonable; evidently she disagreed.
“Hallen!” she yelled, her face furious. “That’s just the darn point. I do color it. I do color my grays! I spend a lot of money at the salon making sure of it. But I saw the new canvas in your studio, and you’ve painted me with a silver streak in my hair!”
“Oh, that,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.
I’d deliberately left the piece uncovered, waiting for her to find it.
“Paint it out!”
“No.”
“Paint it out!”
“Not happening.”
She ground her teeth in frustration, and I tried really hard not to smile.
“It makes me look old,” she huffed.
&nbs
p; “It makes you look beautiful,” I contradicted.
“I thought you said that you painted what you see,” she sniffed, her anger evaporating even as she tried to hold onto it.
“I do. That’s what I see. I just don’t always look with my eyes. When I look at you, Laura, I look with my heart.”
“Oh, that’s so typical of you!” she snorted.
“What is?”
“I’m trying to be mad at you and you have to go and be all charming. It’s annoying!”
She was definitely having to work at not laughing now. It was one of the very long list of things that I loved about her.
I risked leaning over to capture her pouting lips with a kiss.
“You know,” I murmured against her smile, “there’s a definite advantage to marrying a woman with a few years on the clock…”
“I’m agog,” she smirked.
“I already know how beautiful she’s going to be as she gets older.”
I got a kiss for that. The kiss led to something else. And the something else led to … well, that’s a whole other story.
THE END
Chapter 1
Robert Mapplethorpe, Philip Pioleau, 1979
CLICK HERE
Chapter 2
Albrecht Dürer, Self Portrait
CLICK HERE
Chapter 3
Ansel Adams, Mountains, 1941
CLICK HERE
Chapter 4
Sophie Callahan, Golden Hour, 2013
CLICK HERE
Chapter 5
Henri Fuseli, The Nightmare, 1781
CLICK HERE
Chapter 6
Vincent Van Gogh, Starry Night over the Rhône, 1888
CLICK HERE
Chapter 7
Jean August Dominique Ingres, Odalisque, 1814
CLICK HERE
Chapter 8
Jean-Louis Forain, The Client, 1878
CLICK HERE
Chapter 9
Shirley Wilkinson, Encaustic, 2013
No link
Chapter 10
Roy Lichtenstein, Man with Folded Arms, 1962;
CLICK HERE
Paul Cézanne, Man with Folded Arms, 1899
CLICK HERE
Chapter 11
Paul Cézanne, Still Life with Apples, 1890
CLICK HERE
Chapter 12
Rodin, The Kiss, 1899
CLICK HERE
Chapter 13
Richard Young, The Passion, 2011
CLICK HERE
Chapter 14
Toulouse Lautrec, Crouching Woman with Red Hair, 1897
CLICK HERE
Chapter 15
Jack Vettriano, The Singing Butler, 1992
CLICK HERE
Chapter 16
Marc Chagall, The Drunkard, 1912
CLICK HERE
Laura
John Everett Millais, Ophelia, 1852
CLICK HERE
Chapter 17
Gustav Klimt, The Kiss, 1908
CLICK HERE
Chapter 18
Albert Edelfelt, A Child’s Funeral, 1879
CLICK HERE
Chapter 19
George Frederick Watts, Endymion, 1872
CLICK HERE
Epilogue
No link
Kirsten Olsen, Trina Marie (aka ‘Kitty-Marie’), Dina Eidinger, Lisa Ashmore – the A Team.
Hang Le for her stunning cover work and never-ending creativity.
Emma Darch-Harris, Sheena Lumsden, Sophie Callahan, Kandace Milostan, Kelsey Burns, Mary Rose and Audrey Thunder who were kind enough to share their names and partake of Hallen’s considerable charms. And Emily Golby who became Hallen’s professor.
A. Meredith Walters, Roger Hurn, Nicole Reed, Monica Robinson, and Gillian Griffin, friends who share the writer’s lonely path! And the lovely Devon Hartford for allowing me to bring his Fearless characters Spiridon and Chistos Manos to Hallen’s exhibition.
The Stalking Angels: Sheena, Aud, Dina, Bella, Shirley Wilkinson, Cori Pitts, Dorota Wróbel, Kelsey, Lelyana Taufik, MJ Fryer, Hang (MJ), Gwen Jacobs, Kirsten Papi, Trina, Sophie C, Sarah Bookhooked, Sasha Cameron, Rosarita Reader, Jacqueline Showdog, Remy Grey, Ashley Snaith, Kandace Lovesbooks, Jo Webb, Ky-Bree Loves-Books, Jen Berg, Carol Sales, Meagan Burgad, Andrea Lopez, Fabiola, Paola Cortes, Kelly O’Connor, Gabri Canova, Whairigail Adam, Julie Redpath.
Lori Sabin, my lovely editor.
Christine, my formatter at Perfectly Publishable.
Sara Sindqvist, for checking the Swedish phrases.
Ana Alfaro, who would have loved this story – and probably lived it, too. RIP.
For their support and encouragement, I’d also like to thank…
The Book Bloggers
Emily and the Girls, The Sub Club Books
Kelsey’s Korner Blog
Smitten’s Book Blog
Aestas Book Blog
Angie, The Smut Club
Natasha is a Book Junkie
The Southern Book Belles
The Red Red Red Devotees
As ever
You’ll find free bonus chapters on my website.
www.janeharveyberrick.com
You can also follow me on Facebook and Twitter. Please stop by!
ADULTS
Lifers
After eight years in prison, twenty-four year old Jordan Kane is the man everyone loves to hate.
Forced to return to his hometown while on parole, Jordan soon learns that this small town hasn’t changed since he was sent away. He is the local pariah, shunned by everyone, including his own parents. But their hatred of him doesn’t even come close to the loathing he feels every time he looks in the mirror.
Working odd jobs for the preacher lady, Jordan bides his time before he can leave this backwards town. But can time or distance erase the pain of living?
Torrey Delaney is new in town, and certainly doesn’t behave in a way the locals believe a preacher’s daughter should. Her reputation for casual hook-ups and meaningless sex quickly spreads. And that’s on top of her budding friendship with the hardened ex-con handyman—the good Reverend is less than thrilled with her estranged daughter’s path.
As friendship forms, can two damaged people who are afraid to love take their relationship to the next level? Can Torrey live with Jordan’s demons, and can Jordan break through Torrey’s walls? With the disapproval of a small town weighing heavily on them, they struggle to find their place in the world. Can they battle the odds, or will their world be viciously shattered?
Is love a life sentence?
ISBN 9780957496187
Purchase at Amazon.com
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The Education of Sebastian
A friendship between the lost and lonely Caroline, and the unhappy Sebastian, leads to an illicit love that threatens them both.
ISBN 9780955315077
The Education of Caroline
Ten years after their first affair, Sebastian and Caroline meet again: this time in very different circumstances, against the background of the war in Afghanistan. Now a successful journalist, Caroline meets US Marine Sebastian Hunter – can old passions be rekindled?
The concluding story of ‘The Education of Sebastian’.
ISBN 9780955315084
The Education of Sebastian and The Education of Caroline, combined edition
Purchase at Amazon.com
Purchase at Amazon.co.uk
A Mature New Adult Novel
Dangerous to Know & Love
Nineteen year old Daniel Colton is the man on campus all the guys want to be, and the bad boy all the girls want to be with. His insanely hot, tatted up body screams sex, while his eyebrow piercing only enhances his beautiful face. There are rumors he has piercings in other places as well. This walking one night stand is sullen, mysterious and moody, with an explosive temper. Is he really mad, bad and dangerous to know?
Daniel lives with hi
s older brother, Zeb, a well-known drug dealer with ties to a local gang. Their home has become party central in the months following their parents’ tragic death. You want to party non-stop, drugs, alcohol, no questions asked? The Colton house is the place to go.
Lisanne Maclaine is a good girl. She comes from a stable family, and has done what is expected of her. She’s lived a sheltered life, and is looking forward to the independence starting college will bring her. She’s a music major and dreams of making a living doing what she loves, playing the violin and singing the blues.
When Daniel and Lisanne have to work together on a business assignment, Lisanne is less than thrilled. She never wanted to be in this class in the first place. She is only minoring in business to pacify her parents, and now she is stuck working with him: Mr. Cocky-and-arrogant. Daniel’s bad boy reputation precedes him, and he is the epitome of what Lisanne despises. He’s rude, obnoxious and has a chip on his shoulder; she just wants to get this assignment over with. She knows he’s nothing but trouble and she should stay away, but there is something about Daniel that draws her in.