Once again our daughter was my model - we decided spontanously that her wet hair after taking a shower was perfect for a thriller book. In addition I took pictures of blue shower gel running down the side of the bathtub and a dying rose against the sun to have a silhouette as frame for her hair.
Hope you like it.
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Larissa would never smile again. Or cry. Or laugh. Or breath. Her mouth was now a vase for blue roses. The killer had struck again, and the police were no closer to discovering his identity. Their only hope was a strange little horticulturalist in San Diego, with a nose for roses...
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