Turn Your Back to the Woods
MORGANA’S A WOMAN WHO knows her worth. She doesn’t consider herself any less valuable than she did as a peppy teen, or a fresh-faced twenty-something, or throughout her beauteous thirties, or forties, or fifties.
She stands tall. She holds her own. She wears her silver hair in a ponytail so long it brushes her hips.
Young models flock to her. Of course they do—she’s a photographer of note. But models don’t hold Morgana’s interest anymore.
Her work is her world.
This is not to say she prefers loneliness over company. Morgana adores company. But it has to be the right company.
It has to be Rose.
Some might say it’s an abuse of power, a photographer Morgana’s age taking her young assistant to bed. Perhaps this is true. Perhaps it is not. Morgana doe
