I suppose you could say I was a voyeur and what I was doing was wrong, criminal even. But I’d suggest that no hot-blooded man could resist a look after finding peepholes behind the walls of Wychwood. Through the peepholes I saw my most secret desires playing out before my eyes. One of the gents I watched was deliciously handsome with brooding stormy eyes and darling black curls. So taken was I that he haunted my dreams. I knew the comely young man only by a number, 27 as none of the queer fellows who attended Wychwood gave...
London 1860
Felix Lazarus
I suppose you could say I was a voyeur and what I was doing was wrong, criminal even. But I’d suggest that no hot-blooded man could resist a look after finding peepholes behind the walls of Wychwood. Through the peepholes I saw my most secret desires playing out before my eyes. One of the gents I watched was deliciously handsome with brooding stormy eyes and darling black curls. So taken was I that he haunted my dreams. I knew the comely young man only by a number, 27 as none of the queer fellows who attended Wychwood gave their names.
27 didn’t know I existed.
But when I saw how he got into trouble with a violent partner, I didn’t think twice about rushing to his aid. It was in my nature to help himeven if it cost me my job and my heart.
This book is a gay historical romance with voyeurism, dub-con, upper/lower classes romance, a dastardly villain, revenge, and a HEA.
