Anatomy of Sin: A Steamy BWWM Interracial Multicultural Standalone Contemporary Dark Academia Forbidden Romance

If he kissed you like he was confessing something — would you still turn him in?
I don't touch people. Not outside the OR. I haven't voluntarily been close to another person in longer than I can calculate, because closeness requires honesty, and honesty is the one thing I gave up eighteen months ago when I helped my mentor bury a man's death in a hospital file.
Then the new fellow showed up from Philadelphia with box braids and gold earrings and hands that move through tissue like she was born holding a scalpel. She's auditing two years of surgical records. My records. The ones with a dead man's name revised in my handwriting at 11:47 PM on a night I will never stop replaying.
I kissed her in the scrub room with shaking hands. I meant it more than I've meant anything. And she is going to find that file.



My grandmother told me the truth doesn't care about your reasons. It just wants to be free.
I keep hearing that in my head. Every time I open another folder in the basement of this old monastery in Prague. Every time I look at the surgical record that doesn't match the blood-loss data. Every time he walks into the OR and the whole room goes quiet — not because they're afraid of him, but because he's that good. And I hate that I notice. I hate that I care. I hate that when he put his mouth on mine against a cold stone wall, I kissed him back like I'd been waiting for it.
I'm the only Black woman in this building. I flew four thousand miles from my mama's kitchen in West Philly — a Jamaican-American girl raised on Granny Mavis's prayers and Daddy's carpenter hands — to be here. I was not raised to look the other way. My mother cleans houses for people who won't shake her hand, and she has never once compromised on what's right. My father builds furniture with hands that measure everything twice. They didn't raise a woman who buries the truth for a man, no matter how badly she wants to.
But God, I want to.


Dark academia medical romance. A surgical institute inside a Prague monastery. Forced proximity. Forbidden everything. He falls first — quietly, completely, like a man who forgot what it felt like to want something. She has to choose between the man she loves and the truth she was raised on. Explicit steam. Emotional wreckage. Hard-earned HEA.
Ivory & Obsession series — each book is a standalone romance