Zoë wanted to write soon after her mother taught her how to read. (Incidentally, the first book she read was Arnold Lobell’s Grasshopper On the Road.) Different people had the enviable task of transcribing stories young Zoë would narrate into a portable tape player, and they all shed tears of joy when Zoë finally learned how to type so she could write down her own damn stories. One of her first works, written at the age of eleven, was a sixty-page fantasy epic inspired by the musical Cats, which is now sadly lost to the mists of time.

In the 9th grade, Zoë began to read romances. She would read them under her desk in physical sciences class, and on the bus, and late into the night until her head spun from eyestrain. There were early forays into writing romance, but when it came time for Zoë to go to college at the University of California, Santa Cruz, she concentrated on her studies of medieval and Renaissance literature, and now those early romances are also lost. (If someone should find them, please return them to Zoë where she can seal them in a lead-lined vault.) During those years at Santa Cruz, Zoë contemplated becoming a costume designer and historian, designing costumes for small undergraduate productions and drawing lots and lots of pictures of maidens in flowing gowns.

Zoë entered graduate school at the University of California, San Diego, fully intending to earn her PhD in 18th century literature. What she would do with that PhD was something she hadn’t quite figured out. Further, she couldn’t read French or Latin, something she would have to do in order to get her doctorate. Deus ex machina arrived in the form of a short story contest, sponsored by Glimmer Train Stories, which Zoë entered and won. She even fielded a few calls from agents wanting to see her manuscript. Oddly, they weren’t asking about her dissertation.

So Zoë sat herself down and asked herself if she wanted to keep working on her PhD and head into an uncertain future of fighting for tenure, or writing fiction. She chose fiction, and left UC San Diego with a Master’s degree in literature. (Her Master’s thesis was about film adaptations of Jane Austen—go ahead and ask her about any adaptation and she can talk until you can’t bear to hear the word “simulacrum” any more.)

Although she was born in New York and lived there until she was six months old, Zoë had no recollection of living anywhere but in California. So everyone was surprised, including her, when she moved to Iowa City to attend the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Much long underwear was worn. Two years and several snowstorms later, she was the proud owner of a shiny new MFA from the Writers’ Workshop. As soon as the degree was in her hot little hand, she promptly moved back to Los Angeles, her home town.

Day jobs followed. Zoë was blessed with the most supportive boyfriend who was also a writer, and much more disciplined about writing than she had ever been. Following his example, she got up every morning before work and wrote. And wrote. And kept writing. The supportive boyfriend had to contend with bouts of extreme grouchiness as several manuscripts were written but none were bought. The supportive boyfriend became the supportive husband, and then, one day, Zoë got The Call from her agent. Lady X’s Cowboy had been bought by a publisher.  A few months after that, the publisher bought Love In a Bottle.

A few awards and award nominations later, Zoë noticed that the deafening cries of acclaim and truckloads of gold ingots mysteriously hadn’t arrived.  There was fear, but also freedom.  She asked herself: if she could write any kind of romance, and time period, any setting, what would it be?  What kind of romance would she love to read?

The answer came after several days of intense soul-searching and chocolate consumption: high adventure.

Exotic settings.  Thrilling action.  Sexy men in waistcoats and tall boots.  Kick-ass women who carried rifles and knew how to use them.  Diabolical inventions made of brass, wood and leather.  And a bit of magic, just to keep things really interesting.

The Blades of the Rose were born.

Admittedly, it was a bit of a tough sell.  Most editors paled in fright at the thought of setting historical romances anywhere but Britain.  And to have a series where the first book is set in Mongolia?  Clearly, she’d been dipping into the laudanum again.

Then, one day, a brave editor at Kensington read the manuscript for the first Blades of the Rose book, and fell in love.  And when the editor said Kensington would not only publish the first book, but three more in successive months, Zoë fell in love with the editor--which was awkward, since Zoë is married and so is her editor.  They bravely soldiered on, and the Blades of the Rose series has since garnered considerable acclaim, including a RITA award nomination for Rebel, and a Publishers Weekly Pick of the Week and starred review for Scoundrel.

Now Zoë is eager for readers to take a walk on the dark side with her new series, The Hellraisers, featuring a group of very bad boys.

Zoë and her husband, romance author Nico Rosso, currently live in Los Angeles.  She and Nico share an office and get up periodically to take turns accosting the cats. When she isn’t writing or forcing herself to exercise, Zoë loves to read, bake, and tweet about boots and men in cravats (strictly as a service to her readers).