Night of the Raven

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Jenna Ryan. Night of the Raven

“Why the hell has your witchy face been in my head for the past fifteen years?”

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McVey didn’t expect an answer. He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked the question. True, she looked very much like the woman in his recurring dream, but the longer he stared at her—couldn’t help that part, unfortunately—the more the differences added up.

On closer inspection, Amara’s hair really was more brown than red. Her features were also significantly finer than … whoever. Her gray eyes verged on charcoal, her slim curves were much better toned and her legs were the longest he’d seen on any woman anywhere.

.....

“Omission. Nana didn’t mention an extra key to you, and she didn’t mention you to me.” She squirmed a little, then immediately wished she hadn’t. “Uh, do you mind? Thanks,” she murmured when he got to his feet.

“I’d say no problem if the damn room would stop spinning.”

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