The book opens as you’d expect. The lights of Paris are gleaming as Jefferson Keller waltz’ through an operation, dressed impeccably well, completely unfazed by the violence he’s committing to other people. He’s a secret operative, suave and untouchable, women want to be with him and men want to be him – until, of course, he’s murdered on the streets, lonely, alone.
A gorgeous stylistic two page spread of Velvet follows, gun aimed expertly at an unseen assailant. This is something different. This will not be what you expect.