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Returning to Madison hurts. I thought I’d left my past behind, but the past goes on living. I carry it inside of me, it’s a piece of me. People have marked me in indelible ways and I drag the shreds of my soul behind me, trying to put my pieces back together. I’m not the Amber I used to be. I fly under the radar, try to be invisible.
It doesn’t always work. Drawing attention scares me. It always spells trouble. Returning to my home town is a last ditch effort to lay my demons to rest and start anew, for good this time.
Meeting Jesse Lee wasn’t in the plan. Yet here he is with his heart-stopping, sexy grin, handsome like a god, shining bright. He’s full of life, full of heat, packing the energy of a thousand suns in his gaze and muscular body. Jesse burns, and the pain of being near him is sweet.
But he’s foiling my plans. It’s hard to remain a ghost when he’s around. Hard to avoid his attention, to remain invisible. He sees me, really sees me, and behind his bright radiance, I can see shadows from his own past crowding in. He’s swimming hard to stay afloat even as he reaches for me.
What is he afraid of? And how can he save me from drowning when he can’t even save himself?
Standalone novel. No cliffhanger.
*Warning: this book contains graphic language, sex, and violence. Mature readers only. Not intended for young readers.*
“Embers?” He lifts a dark brow, and I try to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
Kind of hard with all that muscled, male, inked flesh in full display in front of me. He’s shirtless, and oh God, his nipples are pierced. Silver hoops pass through the small brown nubs, gleaming. His bare chest is sculpted and hard, from his pecs to the cut abs and the fine dark trail of hairs leading into the waistband of his gray jogging pants.
Sweat glistens on his skin, on the colorful ink covering his arm, the swirls and lines dipping from his left shoulder down to a defined pec. A demon is tattooed there, stylized wings and a monstrous head, fading into the purple and blue of other, older-looking tats. And then of course there’s the cobra I noticed on his arm the other day.
“Hey,” I say vaguely, my brain on shut-down. I swallow hard, try again. “What does the cobra stand for?”
Both his brows arch now, eyes wide, their green-blue irises crystalline in the morning light. He glances down at his arm, then back at me. “What?”
“What does the snake stand for?” I wave in his direction, wondering if I should cut my losses, turn about and run away right frigging now. Being antisocial is one thing – seeing it in action is another.
As I’m about to turn and run, one corner of his mouth curls up.
“You’re funny,” he says, and it stops me in my tracks.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are, trust me.” He grins. “How about we start again. Good morning, Embers.”
If flames jump from my cheeks, it won’t surprise me. “Morning.”
“Would you like to come inside?” he says, that sexy grin lingering on his full lips. “There might be coffee.”
“No, thanks.” The need to flee is worse than ever, only I’m caught in his spell and can’t move. He’s staring at me, giving me a lazy, slow once-over, from the top of my head to my toes curling in my sandals.
“What, no pet name for me today?”
Oh God, what am I doing here? “Cut it out, Jesse. Don’t be an ass.”
I expect a witty comeback, but instead something shutters behind his bright eyes, and strangely, I feel guilt wash over me. He rubs a hand over his face and slumps against the doorframe, muscles rolling in his arms.
“This is who I am, Embers,” he drawls, closing his eyes. “What you see is what you get. I told you that you’d get tired of me soon.”
But for the first time, I’m not so sure about that.
Jo Raven writes New Adult contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of travelling.
Cover by Jo Raven
Model: Francis Clément
Photographer: Sara Eirew
RELEASE DATE: Late June/Beginning of July 2015
Returning to Madison hurts. I thought I’d left my past behind, but the past goes on living. I carry it inside of me, it’s a piece of me. People have marked me in indelible ways and I drag the shreds of my soul behind me, trying to put my pieces back together. I’m not the Amber I used to be. I fly under the radar, try to be invisible.
It doesn’t always work. Drawing attention scares me. It always spells trouble. Returning to my home town is a last-ditch effort to lay my demons to rest and start anew, for good this time.
Meeting Jesse Lee wasn’t in the plan. Yet here he is with his heart-stopping, sexy grin, handsome like a god, shining bright. He’s full of life, full of heat, packing the energy of a thousand suns in his gaze and muscular body. Jesse burns, and the pain of being near him is sweet.
But he’s foiling my plans. It’s hard to remain a ghost when he’s around. Hard to avoid his attention, to remain invisible. He sees me, really sees me, and behind his bright radiance, I can see shadows from his own past crowding in. He’s swimming hard to stay afloat even as he reaches for me.
What is he afraid of? And how can he save me from drowning when he can’t even save himself?
I turn on him, hands on my hips. “What do you want?”
“That sounds like a trick question.” He winks.
“Does it? You barged in here and you think asking you what you want is a trick question?”
“Hey now. I didn’t barge in here. You opened the door.” He lifts his hands much like Kayla did. I think I scare people.
Good. Better them than me.
“You’re an ass.”
He grins. “And a fine one, too.”
Oh dear God. “You’re a dick.”
He nods solemnly, but his eyes dip to my cleavage and darken to forest green. “A big, big dick.”
Crap, I walked right into this one, didn’t I? Of course, I’ve always had trouble recognizing plays on words and jokes. I should be upset. He’s teasing me, and teasing, in my book, is a prelude to hurting me.
But the smile lingering on his full lips takes the sting away, and what’s more, it’s hot. Way too hot. Heat rushes to my face, flames licking my cheeks, and a pulse starts between my legs.
This is so not happening. “Stop being such a jerk.”
“You say that affectionately.” He’s somehow moved closer to me while I was busy self-combusting and his scent engulfs me, something hot, spicy and heady like mulled wine. “Like that pet name you gave me.”
What? I stare at the dark brows over his intense eyes, the faint stubble on that square jaw, that mouth and… Oh God. I’ve lost the thread. I tear my gaze from his face, glancing down at his bare arms. One of them is heavily inked with swirling colors and a snake.
A cobra, I think, done in red and green, curling on his thick bicep. And underneath the riot of colored ink swathing his arm from shoulder to wrist, faint crisscrossing lines catch my eyes, some thin and some thick, dark and raised.
Scars.
His voice startles me. “This place sure looks different when it’s not full of people.”
“Like what, empty?”
He chuckles, warm and delicious like a treacle of melted hot chocolate. “Like, nice.”
“Although there’s no blonde wrapped around you and no sucking involved?”
He chokes and bends over hacking.
“You…” He shakes his head as he straightens, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Shit.”
Yeah, I’m not only antisocial, I also don’t have any control over my mouth. Double whammy. Who wouldn’t want to be around me?
“So what do you want?” Might as well get this over with so we can both go on our separate ways – he, back to his blonde and the sucking, and me, to my room and my beads.
He flinches, a barely there twitch that has me wondering if I even saw it. “I lost… something. A leather wrist band. I can’t find it since the party here, and I thought to ask in case you saw it anywhere.”
I remember seeing the band on his arm that night. “It was an old thing, wasn’t it?” Old, worn and starting to fray.
“It’s…” He rubs his forehead, frowning. “It’s important to me.”
He’s been an ass. Sort of. He’s been pushy. Kind of. He scares me.
But the uncertainty is back in his eyes, and now I know I didn’t imagine it. And although I’m not sure what to do with it, this glimpse beneath the sunny surface that defines Jesse Lee, I wish… I wish I could. I wish I had the courage to prod and break the brittle skin, the scab over a wound I can only guess at.
“I haven’t seen it,” I say, and his jaw tightens. This bracelet really seems important to him. “But I’ll look around. We’re still cleaning after the party from hell.”
“Thanks.” His mouth quirks. He shifts back and leans against the wall, and I try hard not to notice how good he looks in a faded green T-shirt and low-slung dark jeans, not to stare at the bulge between his legs.
Oh God, I’m checking out his package. Crap, no way…
Jo Raven writes New Adult erotic contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling to India and Japan.
His name is Rafaele Vestri, Rafe to his friends.
He’s tall, strong, handsome. Distant. He often comes to the coffee shop where I work, but we don’t talk much. He looks at me, though. Stares at me, his gaze heated, and I can’t help but stare back. I want him, I won’t deny it. I’ve never seen anyone that beautiful, anyone that powerful, in my life.
But he’s growing more withdrawn by the day. Something’s up, and he won’t tell. I know about his past—the murder of his family when he was fifteen. I can imagine how much it must have cost him. So much violence contained in that strong body, waiting to be unleashed. What is he seeking? What is he training so hard for? Why is he looking at me like he’s dying to touch me, but won’t dare?
Even as I try to stop thinking about him, get interested in other boys, I realize I can’t. I’m caught, body and soul, just like that. And I tell myself, Megan, girl… What have you gotten yourself into this time?
Standalone novel. No cliffhanger.
*Warning: this book contains graphic language, sex, and violence. Mature readers only. Not intended for young readers.*
AMAZON US
AMAZON UK
APPLE
BARNES AND NOBLE
KOBO
I’m staring at Rafe’s hand. Big, strong, callused. A scar runs from his thumb to the index finger.
He’s looking at me, waiting.
So I lift my hand, place it in his. It fits on his palm, smaller, darker, thinner. He seems as entranced by the contrast as I am. His fingers curl, closing around mine. His lips part, but no sound comes from his mouth, and his gaze remains fixed on our entwined hands, pale lashes hiding the gold of his eyes.
Now I’m the one caught, transfixed. His mouth looks soft, vulnerable, at odds with his strong, angular features and the broad set of his shoulders. The need to touch his face is overwhelming, and I step closer, so close I can sense his scent. Not a cologne, but the deep scent of his skin, like musk and warm metal. I can see the rise and fall of his chest underneath the black Deathmoth T-shirt he’s wearing under his open jacket, see the outline of his strong pecs.
We’re standing so close our breaths mingle, and our bodies touch in places as we shift, feathery brushes that send fire across my skin, into my belly, making me ache. He places his hands on my waist and I grip his thick, sinewy forearms. My stomach drops as if I’m standing at the edge of a precipice, on the edge of a moment that can change everything.
What’s happening? It’s as if in the hollow darkness, the barrier between us is crumbling, the wall he’s set between himself and the world is falling.
His hands tighten on my hipbones and his lashes lift, his gaze moving to my mouth. His breathing is ragged. He tugs me against him, his fingertips digging painfully into my flesh, his arms flexing with barely controlled strength.
His arousal presses into my stomach, hot and thick, caught sideways in his jeans.
My mind fills up with static. Rafe wants me. There’s the solid proof of his desire. The heated gaze I’ve felt so often on me is translated into a physical reaction, and it makes me feel so hot I might burst into flames. He’s so handsome, I can’t help myself. I want to stroke his square jaw, drag my fingertips over the golden stubble on his cheeks, kiss those damnable dimples.
Jo Raven writes New Adult contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of travelling.
Synopsis:
When you’ve tried your best for years and never managed to please your demanding parents… When you’ve fallen head over heels for someone who keeps ignoring you… When you’ve hit rock bottom.
Tessa is this close to giving up – on her authoritative parents and their demands, on her studies, on everything in her life.
Including Dylan. The one boy she has loved since she can remember. The one who dated her and promised her forever when they were fourteen, and then dumped her without an explanation only to ignore her ever since.
The one who shows up to save her from the hands of her abusive ex before the stroke of midnight, who kisses her and holds her close, only to tell her in the course of the same night he doesn’t love her.
Tessa knows Dylan has gone through some tough times, and they’re only getting tougher – but is he telling the truth about his lack of feelings for her, or is he running from his own demons?
The way Tessa sees it, she has two options: run away, leaving it all behind – or stay to fight against her controlling family, and win back Dylan. She has a feeling he needs her, and how can she leave when he’s the only man who’s ever made her feel alive?
Standalone novel. No cliffhanger.
*Warning: this book contains graphic language, sex, and violence. Mature readers only. Not intended for young readers.*
Author Bio:
Jo Raven writes New Adult contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of travelling.
Stalker Links:
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WHERE TO FIND ALL THIS WHITE-HOT ROMANCE:
MEETING MR. STEELE by Melanie Marchande – She hired an actor to play her romance author alter ego at public appearances, but she didn’t count on him stealing her heart.
MICAH (Damage Control 1) by Jo Raven – She saved his life but doesn’t know him. He knows her but won’t tell her who he is for fear of losing her. Isn’t love weird?
SOMEBODY TO LOVE (Rock Stars in Disguise: Tryp) by Blair Babylon – Meet Tryp, the rock star drummer for Killer Valentine. He’s young, he’s rich, and his life is perfect, just as long as he never sobers up.
HOT PURSUIT (An Iron Tornadoes MC Romance) by Olivia Rigal – What could be worst for an undercover cop than embracing the spirit of the MC he has infiltrated? Falling hard for a woman who loves the biker he is supposed to be.
MIXED UP by Sky Corgan – When Kira walked up the steps of the Enkidu Industries building for a job interview, she never expected to find her potential new employer completely naked.
MIDNIGHT MOONLIGHT by V. J. Chambers – A werewolf twist on “Beauty and the Beast:” Trapped with a wild man. Drawn to his ferocious heat. She will fight to get free and to tame him, to bring back his humanity.
SORORITY SAINT by Daizie Draper – When a brash musician entices a shy dancer into performing in his sexy jazz video, the heated tension between these polar opposites could ignite lasting passion or completely scorch them both.
CROSSED (A Prequel to the Crossed Series) by Lacey Silks – She is looking for the one. He never thought the one existed. But the one thing that connects them can also tear them apart.
GET TO ME (8th Sin Series, Book 1) by Holly Hood – Sometimes the past and present can cloud your future.
ELECTRIC BLUE BUTTERFLIES (Will o’ the Wisp Series #1) by Irma Geddon – When an arranged marriage between childhood soul mates ends in tragedy, Constance learns to trust that love knows no limit—not even death.
SWEETEST TEMPTATIONS (Blue Collar Series, #1) by J.C. Valentine – A tenacious bakery shop owner has everything she ever wanted, until a hunky firefighter walks through her door.
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New Adult contemporary romance
Cover by: Jo Raven
RELEASE DATE: Dec 16, 2014 in the Red Hot Alphas Boxed Set
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There’s me: Micah Owens. Tattoo artist at Damage Control. No parents or siblings. A past that still gives me nightmares.
And then there’s her: Evangeline, the girl who saved my life and haunts my more pleasant dreams. Only she doesn’t know who I really am, and telling her might well send her fleeing for the hills. She deserves better than a loser like me. She’s pretty. She’s clever. She’s goddamn sexy and has a heart of gold.
Which is why I can’t tell her. A smile from her and I’ll do all I can to make her mine – including pretending to be someone I’m not, someone worth having.
Isn’t love weird?
This is book 1 in the Damage Control series – a series parallel to Inked Brotherhood, so that you’ll find the boys of Inked Brotherhood making appearances here, too.
MICAH is a stand-alone work. No cliffhanger.
The expected publication date is Dec 16, 2014 in the Red Hot Alphas Boxed Set, on all of your favorite e-book websites.
Quiet.
I ring the bell again, and when nothing happens, I check the piece of paper. I’m at the right place. Maybe Rafe made a mistake? Or maybe Micah is not in.
Just when I’m about to turn and go, I think I hear footsteps and push the paper into the pocket of my jacket. I lick my lips, my nervousness returning.
The lock creaks and the door slides open. “Yeah?” a hoarse male voice says, and I catch a glimpse of a suspicious blue eye through the opening.
“Micah? It’s me, Ev.” Oh God, this sounds so lame. I shift my weight again, my leg twinging. “I, um. I forgot my walking stick at the cafe…” I feel ridiculous addressing his eye and not even seeing his whole face. “I was hoping maybe you noticed and got it for me.”
“Ev?” His voice cracks. He turns away and coughs, and the worry gently gnawing at my insides morphs into a voracious monster.
“Are you all right?” My voice goes high-pitched, and I wince. Calm down, Ev. “That cold still hasn’t cleared up?”
“What?” He pulls the door open and leans against it, bracing one arm on the frame. One bare, muscled arm. Attached to his muscular bare chest. “Oh, the cold, yeah. I’m fine.”
Fine. “Why did you stay home if you’re fine?”
He blinks at me, a slow sweep of long lashes against high cheekbones, and I have a moment of oh-crap-I’ve-gone-too-far panic.
But he doesn’t slam the door in my face as I think he might. “Rough night,” he mutters. “Ocean said he’d cover for me at work, so I stayed home to sleep.”
Straightforward. Honest. A rough night. I want to ask what made it rough, but I think I’ve already overstepped the boundaries of our… friendship? Acquaintance?
I drop my gaze from his face, and that’s a mistake. My mind blanks a little as I realize he’s shirtless and barefoot, lounging in front of me in only a pair of gray low-hung, draw-string pants. My gaze slides back up his long legs to his narrow hipbones and a spectacular set of abs, complete with sexy divots forming a V line.
My mouth is honest-to-god watering. I tear my gaze off those lickable abs only for it to be caught by his defined pecs and then his amused sky-blue eyes.
“Is there anything I can do for ya?” he drawls lazily, and I swear my panties get wet at the raspy sound.
Well, wetter.
Which is kind of alarming. No guy has ever had such an effect on me before.
AUTHOR BIO
Jo Raven writes New Adult contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling to and .
FOLLOW THIS AUTHOR!
Title: Zane, book 3
Series: Inked Brotherhood (Book 3)
Author: Jo Raven
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance (steamy) / lickable angsty romance
Blurb:
They call me Zen-man, the cool-headed one, the protector. I keep an eye out for everyone, taking them in, finding them homes. They think I’m the calm and collected one, the self-assured one, the one who knows the way. They think they see me. They think they know me.
But they’re all wrong, because inside I’m broken. I have a jagged hole in my soul I can’t fix, a festering blackness. I’ve been to the pits of hell and nobody comes back unscathed. Life in foster care fucked me up, and now a thread is all that’s holding me together.
So I sleep around and never date, keeping chicks away. One day I’ll snap, and when I do, there’s no telling who I might take down with me.
All the same, there’s this one girl who won’t be scared away. Dakota. She’s hot and I won’t deny I want her. But she keeps coming back, needling me, trying to get me to talk, to open up to her.
She has no idea she’s playing with fire. When the demons come, she’d better be far away from me, just like everyone else.
Add Zane to your TBR:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22733241-zane
Zane Excerpt
Zane’s here.
He’s standing with his back to the wall, arms folded over his broad chest, his slanted eyes on me, hot and intense. His Mohawk is tall as ever, and the silver studs in his ears and the hoops in his brow glint. I scan him from his exotic face to the faded black T-shirt stretched over his pecs, down to his ripped jeans, and I struggle for breath.
Gah. He’s too handsome to be real. Too handsome to be interested in me. And yet here he is, and I can’t miss the bulge on the front of his jeans. He’s obviously hard, and the realization makes me feel hot. The tips of my breasts tighten painfully.
What is it about this boy that makes me lose my train of thought? Deciding I want to break through his defenses is one thing—but what he does to my body even with one look should be illegal.
“You came,” I blurt, and instantly wish I had swallowed my tongue instead.
He cocks his head to the side, eyes heavy-lidded. “Almost,” he whispers, and oh God, the boy is sexy as hell. “You have an awesome voice. Never heard anything like it.”
My face flames. “Thanks.”
I step off the stage, and he grabs my hand, steadying me. His fingers are callused and warm, his grip like steel.
“Hey, Koko, you okay?” Luke calls out.
“Fine. Just need a moment backstage. Yeah?”
“Koko?” Zane arches a dark brow at me.
“Yeah, the guys call me that.”
“I prefer Dakota.”
God, me, too, especially when Zane is speaking it in his low, warm voice.
Besides… ‘Koko’ brings back too many bad memories. I’m not that girl anymore, the girl who trusted Collin with her life and almost died for it.
I head toward the small backstage room, and he doesn’t release my hand. He follows me inside and closes the door, then turns the lock.
Before I ask what he’s doing, he slams me back against the wall, his muscled body pinning me, so that I feel every defined ridge and plane of his chest. He’s breathing hard.
Speaking of hard… The rod of his erection is trapped sideways inside his jeans, and its heat seeps through the fabric, branding my flesh.
“What are you doing to me?” he breathes, his strong hand trailing down my neck and slipping the strap of my blouse off my shoulder. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
I should stop him, but his fingertips send electric shocks down my spine. He lowers his face toward me, and my lips part in anticipation. He’s going to kiss me, I think, as his breath brushes the corner of my mouth—but he doesn’t. He trails his mouth over my cheek, along my jaw, under my ear. The touch of his lips—hot and soft—tortures me, arousing me more and more, as he bares my shoulder, and draws patterns on my skin.
I struggle to swallow a moan, my nipples pressed against his chest, tiny pinpricks of pain and pleasure. His hand tangles in my hair, tipping my head back for better access, and his mouth brands my neck, sending electric discharges right into my core. Fire coils low inside of me.
Oh God, I think I’m about to come just from his lips on my neck and his fingertips on my shoulder. I have to do something to stop him. Stop myself.
I place my hands on his chest. “Ink me, Zane,” I whisper.
His mouth leaves my neck, and when he looks down at me, his eyes are so dark with need they seem black. His breathing is ragged. “Don’t.”
“I want it.” It’s more than a game now, more than familiar teasing. I need his touch so much it’s scary as hell. I’m throbbing everywhere, and I feel wet between my legs. This has never happened to me before. It’s as if the ground has been yanked from under my feet. It’s like freefall, and I hate falling.
“Tell me what you want.” He braces an arm on the wall by my head and licks his lips. He doesn’t kiss me. Why won’t he kiss me?
“You know what I want,” I say.
He leans closer again, his male musk scent surrounding me, and how can I think straight when my hands are on his rippling abs, his mouth is inches from mine, and his hardness keeps pressing into my belly?
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Author Bio
Jo Raven writes New Adult erotic romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling to India and Japan.
Links to stalk Jo Raven:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJoRaven
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorJoRaven
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8161577.Jo_Raven
Website: http://joraven.com/blog/
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/jo-raven/e/b00kbz63fa
Other books in the series:
Asher:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1osI54A
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1yXgJHg
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1tKhwtP
Tyler:
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/10lNQq3
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/129k74h
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1t4ATvA
Series: Inked Brotherhood (Book 3)
Author: Jo Raven
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance (steamy) / lickable angsty romance
They call me Zen-man, the cool-headed one, the protector. I keep an eye out for everyone, taking them in, finding them homes. They think I’m the calm and collected one, the self-assured one, the one who knows the way. They think they see me. They think they know me.
But they’re all wrong, because inside I’m broken. I have a jagged hole in my soul I can’t fix, a festering blackness. I’ve been to the pits of hell and nobody comes back unscathed. Life in foster care fucked me up, and now a thread is all that’s holding me together.
So I sleep around and never date, keeping chicks away. One day I’ll snap, and when I do, there’s no telling who I might take down with me.
All the same, there’s this one girl who won’t be scared away. Dakota. She’s hot and I won’t deny I want her. But she keeps coming back, needling me, trying to get me to talk, to open up to her.
She has no idea she’s playing with fire. When the demons come, she’d better be far away from me, just like everyone else.
Jo Raven writes New Adult erotic romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling to India and Japan.