Violet. Her name is as pretty as her lips. Did they taste as sweet as they looked? Would the color transfer to a lover's lips?
They live in a fragile world, one that could collapse instantly, and it is her duty within the Mechanical Rose Society to keep the delicate balance. She is a spy. Strength of will, cunning and sex are her tools. Never failed, never will. She has been sent to either gain Leeford Gunn's cooperation in the cessation of his newest invention — or kill him.
To Leeford she is strength wrapped in beauty. And, Divine Graces, she has brains. Now if that is not sexy, not intoxicating to the highest degree, then nothing is. From the first moment he saw "Violet" his world of machines and inventions faded. He would create a devoted study of the woman before him. It would be his greatest pleasure to strip her garments, reveal the soft skin beneath, touch her tender flesh.
But in a world of secret societies, there is always more behind the mask than it appears.
Steampunk
