Can fear take real physical shape? As it turns out, it can. Right now I was staring my fear straight in the eyes. They were an unusual, bright amber color—so exotic, more like a wolf’s, with a very rare golden tint. I couldn’t take my gaze off them, and in response he—rude as anything—studied me openly, shamelessly sweeping his eyes over my figure, dressed in the everyday uniform of a prosecutor’s investigator.
A modern romance.