J. C. McKenzie is a book loving, gumboot-wearing, unapologetic science geek. She predominantly writes urban fantasy and post-apocalyptic dystopian fantasy with strong romantic elements. When she's not spinning tales, she's in the classroom sharing her passion for science and mathematics while secretly warping the young impressionable minds of our future to carry out her evil plans for world domination. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family and a feisty dog named Angus.

Conspiracy of Ravens by J.C. McKenzie

Raven Crawford knows better than to venture into the seductive world of the dark fae or agree to any of their salacious promises. She plans to pay off her debts so she can get on with her life and stay far away from the denizens of the Underworld.

Unfortunately, her numbskull twin steals from the most tempting and lethal fae of them all. Now, Raven must help the Lord of Shadows get back what her idiot brother stole. Her only weapons? Just a little ingenuity and a whole lot of snark. It's suicide for sure, but she'll do anything to protect her twin.


J.C. McKenzie and I started out as authors published with The Wild Rose Press, and we finally met in person at an InD'Scribe conference. Having read her urban fantasy novel, Shift Happens, I had the mental vision of J.C. as a woman who was as badass as Lara Croft and as sassy as Mercy Thompson. (And that is EXACTLY what J.C. is like in real life.) We are fortunate to have the urban fantasy novel, Conspiracy of Ravens, in our bundle. Raven Crawford has had a run of hard luck, but this ingenious heroine has more than one trick up her sleeve. That Lord of Shadows had better watch his back! –Melissa Snark



  • "Conspiracy of Ravens is by far my favorite J.C. McKenzie novel!"

    – Kam’s Place
  • "A compelling and refreshingly different paranormal read that combines a creative twists of elements to form a unique world with strong, bold characters that easily grab readers' attention and holds them hostage."

    – Stormy Vixen Reviews
  • "Lots of emotions flow from the pages."

    – Stormy Vixen Reviews



The imposing man loomed in the entrance of her brother's building. He stood with confidence instead of cowering like the lock-picking menace he really was. What type of ever-loving Underworld trouble had Bear joined now?

Luke's dark gaze, edgy with Otherness, scanned the foyer. She watched from the shadows, cocooned in Cole's heat, heady scent and strong arms. The Lord of Shadows behind her remained relaxed. A thin veil of darkness shielded her vision, almost as though Cole had thrown some sort of invisibility cloak over them. Tension knotted Raven's shoulders.

The smooth veneer of Luke's polished business image slipped away, and his piercing gaze roamed the entrance. She flinched when it reached her. Instead of tensing or letting out some sort of dark fae war cry, Luke's menacing gaze passed over her and Cole without hesitation.

Luke glided across the floor. No other word described his progress. Technically, he moved one foot after the other and his boots hit the old tiles of the foyer, but he walked with a fluidity only an Other could pull off. He flowed across the room without effort, like one of those dancers on TV, just without the fancy footwork.

He paused at the elevator. He tilted his head and stared at the closed metallic doors for a minute. Raven held her breath. Instead of pushing the button for the elevator, Luke pivoted and took the stairs.

The fluorescent lights in the lobby buzzed. One flickered. When the second-floor door creaked to announce he'd arrived on her brother's floor, Raven let out a long breath. The tension eased from her body, and she slumped against Cole.

Against the Patron Fae of Assassins.

Instantly, the tension returned. She bolted forward.

The strong arms anchoring her in place released her. She stumbled a few steps and flung out her arms. Her hand slapped the wall, and she stopped her forward-propelling body before completely face-planting.

She spun around.

The shadows withdrew, revealing Cole in all his drool-worthy glory. Amusement danced in his dark, intense gaze, only a foot away.

"You smell of the rain," he whispered.