What happens when two people who've ruined every room they've ever entered find each other? Adrian and Luna move through the kind of settings that belong in a painting - a moss-slicked masquerade garden, a candlelit teahouse in feudal Japan, a French chateau with velvet drapes, a stable where the horses stamp and snort - and they wreck every one of them. The masks stay on until the fucking gets too rough.
The tea goes cold because nobody's drinking it. The duchess gets bent over her own chaise. And in the masquerade alcove, a crowd watches while Luna says "more" when anyone with sense would say "enough."
What happens when two people who've ruined every room they've ever entered find each other? Adrian and Luna move through the kind of settings that belong in a painting - a moss-slicked masquerade garden, a candlelit teahouse in feudal Japan, a French chateau with velvet drapes, a stable where the horses stamp and snort - and they wreck every one of them. The masks stay on until the fucking gets too rough.
The tea goes cold because nobody's drinking it. The duchess gets bent over her own chaise. And in the masquerade alcove, a crowd watches while Luna says "more" when anyone with sense would say "enough."