*~*Work of Art by Ruth Clampett EXCLUSIVE Max POV & Giveaway*~*

In a life driven by passion, famed artist Maxfield Caswell lives in a world of brilliant color and drama, pushing his art and affairs to his emotional edge. He’s stunning, charismatic and celebrated in the art world, but are the trappings of fame also destroying him?

For years intelligent and bright-eyed Ava Jacobs has worked diligently toward a career in the art world. Ava is swept off her feet when she meets the passionate artist. She soon realizes, however, that he’s on a destructive path—one she doesn’t intend to join him on.In the decadent world of patrons, art groupies, and predators, feisty and beautiful Ava knocks Max off his pedestal. A stunned Max sees something special in Ava and offers her an opportunity she can’t refuse. As their lives and passions collide, will he realize that she alone has the power to heal him? Can their hearts come together to create their own work of art?

Famed artist, Maxfield Caswell is missing.

Three of his major paintings have been savagely defaced and his house left in ruins. As his friends search for him, does his muse, Ava, hold the key?

Before the hope of love is lost, secrets will be told, spirits will be broken, and a price will be paid.
From the cave dwellings of New Mexico to the shores of Malibu, Max and Ava’s journey tests them to their limits. As they render passion and pain in broad strokes, will their all-consuming love rise from the debris?

The Angel Descends

Max Point of View-Work of Art

The quickest way for me to lose my shit with my manager, Dylan, is for him to tell some rich old broad that I’ll repaint my master work in colors to match her bedspread. If that rude bitch has that much money, he should tell her to pay off a bedding company so they make her a bedspread that matches my painting.

In my blind rage I storm into Adam’s show pavilion. It’s taking everything I have to not turn around and punch Dylan in the face as he chases after me, yapping potential sales profits to the back of my head. Does he have any fucking idea what it means to be an artist? Why didn’t I fire the asshole years ago?

Adam’s a dealer I’ve always respected, but when he turns to face us and calm the storm he seems to be siding with Dylan. I’m looking at the possibility that I’ll have to punch Adam in the face too when I hear a young voice cry out as I explain the bedspread reference.

           “That’s outrageous! What an insult!”

I turn back to see who just defended me—what mysterious soldier joined my side of this battle? I fight back a satisfied smile when the dark-haired beauty’s gaze meets mine. My compatriot is an alluring vision with her fierce expression and demure business attire. I’ve never seen her before, and I instantly have a sense not to underestimate this woman.

A calming feeling settles over me. Her presence, a soothing blanket of support, smothers out the flames I’ve burned over Dylan since he tried to sell me out as his art whore. I’m mesmerized by this woman’s unwavering stance, her fists still resting on her curve of her hips. She is brave to defend me.

Adam and Dylan’s protests become grey noise to me as I step toward her, and watch her bright brown eyes widen, and her expression grow bewildered. The only thing that I note from Adam and Dylan’s babbling is her name. Ava.

Ava. The name fits her and I love the way the word fits in my mouth before my lips part to address her.

“Ava, such a beautiful name.”

Her cheeks glow pink making me want to frame her lovely face in my hands. Is my intense regard overwhelming her? Does this Ava, with a Picasso strength of character, and Botticelli face, not understand that she has cast her net over this beast of a man and is pulling me in?

In that moment of our gazes locking, all I know is that I need to get her away from this brothel of art pimps and their soulless customers. I’ll find a place to take her that’ll be our island. We’ll be castaways from the madness of Manhattan. I want to know everything about her and what mythical land she escaped from before she appeared as a vision before me.

Once alone I’ll feed her tiny bits of me so I don’t scare her off. But in time if she inspires me, and she wants more, I’ll take her to my bed and consume her, taste every inch of her before I part her thighs and fill her as fiercely as she just defended me. I’ll arouse and fuck her with such raw passion that I’ll become her drug.

She tips her head and watches me with an arched brow and audacious smile. Hopefully she can look into my mind and see her long legs wrapped around me. I’m not sure if that idea appeals to her yet, but it will. I’ll make sure of it. Painting isn’t my only art form when I have a woman lying across my sheets.

Are you ready to have your mind blown Ava?

I’ve got that surge of lust-filled adrenalin and all the colors that surround us glow brighter, almost psychedelic. I have an overwhelming need to know what she tastes like between her legs. Will she be spicy and hot on my tongue, or sweet as sugar? I want all her flavors. I want every part of her.

She gives me a long look as Adam scowls and finally she let’s out the breath she’s been holding and the corners of her mouth curl up. There’s something about this Ava…as if she has a secret hold over me and I have to know why.

I take her arm and wink as we take several steps.

“Do you always get your way?” She asks.

I shrug. “Pretty much.”

What I don’t share is that it’s been a long time since I’ve known what I really want. Maybe all of that is about to change.

With each step forward I pull her away from Adam’s predictable art show and into my world.