From the author of National Parks and other bestselling tales of heartbreak comes a visceral departure into a new saga of blood, tradition, and ruin.
"We’ve always been bare knuckles, baby. Don’t cry now, because it hurts.’
Vionessa
Before I stepped into Verona Vines, the enemy raised me. Kollyns Maritiano was never supposed to be my sanctuary. He inflicts affection like a wound, and even after one kiss, I’m starving. I was born in the wrong coordinates, but I loved the way he destroyed our haven just to claim me.
~
Kollyns
She’s my brother’s best friend. Forever off-limits. So tempting she could be my last meal. My bruised fingers scratch her pretty jaw, marking her with my sweat and the dirt of the cage.
Call me crazy, Colino, or Kollyns; it doesn’t matter. Even with a black eye and broken jaw, I starve for my new obsession. Saving her was never part of the plan; I needed her to bathe in danger, thrive in risk until we were nothing but smears and stains.
When defenses drop, my hands trace jagged shapes all over her corruption, recalling the broken glass in her bedroom where we first collided. She followed the burn on my forearm—each flicker a memory of unwelcome flames. We learned each other’s stories through fading lines, rough confessions, and letting danger speak at every touch.
Her lips left an unexpected scar across my heart. My tongue split at the clash of teeth, blood smudging that plump, puckered mouth, branding her with the Maritiano name. I tasted long-awaited victory and undeniable consequence. Behind dumpsters, the cost spiraled us into war before we could catch our breath.
TROPES:
"We’ve always been bare knuckles, baby. Don’t cry now, because it hurts.’
Vionessa
Before I stepped into Verona Vines, the enemy raised me. Kollyns Maritiano was never supposed to be my sanctuary. He inflicts affection like a wound, and even after one kiss, I’m starving. I was born in the wrong coordinates, but I loved the way he destroyed our haven just to claim me.
~
Kollyns
She’s my brother’s best friend. Forever off-limits. So tempting she could be my last meal. My bruised fingers scratch her pretty jaw, marking her with my sweat and the dirt of the cage.
Call me crazy, Colino, or Kollyns; it doesn’t matter. Even with a black eye and broken jaw, I starve for my new obsession. Saving her was never part of the plan; I needed her to bathe in danger, thrive in risk until we were nothing but smears and stains.
When defenses drop, my hands trace jagged shapes all over her corruption, recalling the broken glass in her bedroom where we first collided. She followed the burn on my forearm—each flicker a memory of unwelcome flames. We learned each other’s stories through fading lines, rough confessions, and letting danger speak at every touch.
Her lips left an unexpected scar across my heart. My tongue split at the clash of teeth, blood smudging that plump, puckered mouth, branding her with the Maritiano name. I tasted long-awaited victory and undeniable consequence. Behind dumpsters, the cost spiraled us into war before we could catch our breath.
TROPES:
- MMA / Underground Fighting
Brother's Best Friend (Forbidden)
Revenge & Rival Families
Neighbors to Lovers
"He falls first" (But he's a monster about it)
Crave My Scars is a standalone novel set in the Verona Vices series. While the characters reappear throughout the saga, each book can be read in any order.
WARNING: This is a Dark MMA Romance. It features graphic violence, "tear the seams" obsession, and characters who would rather burn the world down than lose the ones they love. Step into the arena. Embrace the vice.
Genre: Romance