From Skye Wolf:
Looking to John, I felt the same as I had when he’d jumped off the wagon a few weeks back. Then, I’d been struck by how much he reminded me of my husband. Tall and broad, almost jet-black hair with just a touch of red about it to distinguish him from the many other Iberians in these parts.
Like my husband, there was more pride to his appearance than perfection: a rare crooked smile and a scar across his eyebrow where hair would no longer grow. He carried himself to his full height, shoulders pulled back, and a challenge in his dark eyes to anyone who looked his way.