Hayley Marie Coppin has a theory about lazy Sunday mornings: they are far better without clothes. In Morning Paper, she begins exactly as you would hope to find her, curled up at a wooden table in a teal camisole, newspaper spread open in her lap, teacup steaming nearby, the light from the window catching the warmth in her long blonde hair. It is the picture of relaxed domesticity, softened at every edge by Hayley's easy smile and the knowing glance she throws over the top of the page.
It does not take long for the camisole to slip away, and once it does, Hayley settles into the morning with total, unhurried ease. Nude now and entirely at home, she continues to leaf through the paper with a cheerful nonchalance, framed by paintings and the gentle light of a summer morning. Morning Paper is a delightful confection: a little naughty, a little playful, and entirely irresistible.