Cursed with powers she can’t name, Sloane Cabot has vowed to catch the Rogue who turned her into a monster and killed her family. Too bad a broodingly hot mage is bound to keep her on the straight and narrow.

Coming from a long line of famous witches, I should be at the top of the heap. Problem is, if there’s a spell cast anywhere near me, I‘ll somehow mess it up. As a probationary agent with the Arcane Bureau of Investigation, I have two choices: I can limp along and maybe pass myself off as a competent agent, or I can die.

I have died a hundred times in a hundred different ways, usually at the hands of the humans I've tried to save. But when a pregnant young woman finds her way into my tattoo shop with a demon on her tail, things go from bad to worse. Being a centuries-old witch isn't going to help me—nothing will.

Agent or not, when your dad is the head of the most notorious arcane crime family in the country, no one believes you when you say you didn’t open that gate to Hell on purpose. Now, I’m practically glued under enough null wards to hide a god and stuck with a stupidly sexy shifter of a jailer who hates my guts. When my former employer comes sniffing around, not only does he keep me alive, but we find out that our pasts are far more connected than either of us realize. And the lies we’ve been told could kill us both.

The fact that she’s a werecat is just something she’s had to live with Alone in her territory, she’s lived a secretive life for six years: under the radar, avoiding her past and the baggage that comes with it. Trouble finds Jacky, though, in the form of an 11-year-old girl and a werewolf turf war just outside her borders. Forced to honor an ancient treaty and the Laws of the supernatural world, Jacky swears an oath to protect Carey Everson, the human daughter of a local werewolf Alpha from Dallas.

Mary Frances Talbot—Frankie—is a necromancer, probably. Hard to say since she never met her parents. She can see the dead, talk to the dead, and a few other things that aren't strictly legal. It's fine. No worries. As long as she doesn't get caught. The whole not getting caught thing was going well until Samuel Harrow blew back into town wearing a Savannah Police Department uniform. He might be a witch, but he hates magic. He's not a fan of Frankie either. Which explains why he's her ex.

Kit McCafferty's life is quiet, unremarkable, and filled with cat hair. In the magical city of Coldstream, located on the border between Scotland and England, Kit is viewed as little more than mildly eccentric and mostly harmless. She passes her days caring for her family of five cats, feeding the local feral moggies, and maintaining relatively good relations with her neighbors. All that changes, however, when a teenage werewolf shows up at her door in the desperate hope of renting out a nearby vacant flat.

My captor, my enemy, and my fated mate. I’m the best bounty hunter in the business. I find lost artifacts that people would kill to possess. I’m also broke. When a notorious leprechaun offers me a job I can’t refuse, I realize too late I’m not hunting an object. The contract was simple; steal the prince, escape unseen. Spoiler alert: I failed. Horribly. The moment I step into the fae kingdom beyond the veil, I feel it—someone watching me. Waiting for me.

Being a private investigator wasn’t supposed to be complicated. I expected cheating spouses and missing pets like BonBon, a kidnapped ‘pure-bred Schnoodle’ with a ruby-studded collar. What I didn’t expect was a desperate elf on my doorstep, begging for help to find her missing parents. Nor did I think that my search would drag me back into the magical world I’d tried so hard to leave behind.

When a body is found pulverised beyond recognition, I’m called to investigate. As Chester’s only magical Detective Inspector, it’s my job to handle the cases the Common police can’t. This one has all the hallmarks of the Other Realm—especially when I find a talking bird caged at the scene.

I hunt the lost, the dangerous, and the damned. It's how I survive. This time? It's how I might die. Since my parents were murdered, I've survived by hunting down whatever—or whoever—needs finding. Rogue vampires, runaway dogs, missing kids, even deadbeat spouses. If it comes with a paycheck, I take the job. This hunt is different. A master mage offered me a reward I couldn't refuse—track down a rogue summoner, stop the demon, and get out. Simple.

Werewolves are hunting me. I was just an ordinary girl waiting tables in a small-town bar. I had no idea magic was real. That was, until I backed my car over a werewolf a couple of times. In my defense, the wolf was trying to murder me, and I was all out of mace.

Someone paid the vampire king’s creepy son to turn me into one of the bitey undead. I’m not hanging about to find out who or why. The vampires want me to stay with them for one hundred years of indentured servitude but I have this thing about following orders so I ran from the streets of London to the wilds of Alaska. I have an eidetic memory and a can-do attitude. I can-do anything to get away from the vampire king. So when the Sheriff of Portlock, a hidden paranormal town, invites me to be his assistant, I say sure thing. It beats servitude hands down.

It was an average day . . . until a gorgeous demon waltzed into my coffee shop and asked me to be his mate. I jokingly agreed, but he was serious. And now I'm mated to him. Permanently. He drinks lust to survive, so that makes me his immortal meal. If that wasn't bad enough, he's just gotten out of prison. Because I accidentally bound myself to him, I automatically take responsibility for keeping him on the right side of the law.

Suddenly thrust into a world of magic, I discover I'm not human, and neither are the four enigmatic men vying for my attention: the brooding vampire, the mysterious witch, the gentle giant werewolf, and the sweet one whose nature eludes me.

Cursed with powers she can’t name, Sloane Cabot has vowed to catch the Rogue who turned her into a monster and killed her family. Too bad a broodingly hot mage is bound to keep her on the straight and narrow.

I have died a hundred times in a hundred different ways, usually at the hands of the humans I've tried to save. But when a pregnant young woman finds her way into my tattoo shop with a demon on her tail, things go from bad to worse. Being a centuries-old witch isn't going to help me—nothing will.

Coming from a long line of famous witches, I should be at the top of the heap. Problem is, if there’s a spell cast anywhere near me, I‘ll somehow mess it up. As a probationary agent with the Arcane Bureau of Investigation, I have two choices: I can limp along and maybe pass myself off as a competent agent, or I can die.

Agent or not, when your dad is the head of the most notorious arcane crime family in the country, no one believes you when you say you didn’t open that gate to Hell on purpose. Now, I’m practically glued under enough null wards to hide a god and stuck with a stupidly sexy shifter of a jailer who hates my guts. When my former employer comes sniffing around, not only does he keep me alive, but we find out that our pasts are far more connected than either of us realize. And the lies we’ve been told could kill us both.

Stuck living in the catacombs underneath what used to be NYC, I've managed to stay hidden and alive and safe-ish. But when my guardian fails to return from a supply run, I'm forced to contemplate life on the surface. Worse? Three warriors have infiltrated my home, insisting that I am the last gold dragon they've been searching for. That everything I know everything I've believed is a lie.

It's one thing to wake up outside in the middle of the night with a decapitated man for company. It's another to have no memory of how you got there—or who you are. She might not know her own name but she knows that several people are out to get her. It could be because she has strange magical powers seemingly at her fingertips and is some kind of fabulous hero. But then why does she appear to inspire fear in so many? And who on earth is the sexy, green-eyed barman who apparently despises her? So many questions . . . and so few answers.

Lorelei Clay isn’t like other people. She isn’t even like other supernaturals. Her specialties are the nightmares of the living, communication with the dead, and cooking bacon until it’s golden brown and perfectly crispy—no magic required.

Your neighbor is just as likely to be a vampire as they are to be a troll, human, elf, or a werewolf. Amber's parents never forgave her after her brother died. They were young and careless, but Amber left all that guilt in Texas when she fled to the pacific northwest to be a nurse. But when she decides to play hero, her life as a nurse is cut short. Newly turned wolves aren't easily trusted.

Betrayed, shattered, and transformed. Sick of everyone’s crap, can this snarky lone wolf find belonging, respect, and love? Lark Emerson vaguely remembers being happy. After catching her husband and her sister in the sack, the IT professional walks away from twenty-seven years of marriage and takes a job on the border of a shifter community. But after a rogue pack storms her office and attacks, to her horror she’s captured and savaged. Wounded and ill, the forty-something limps home and is shocked when her injuries rapidly heal, her eyesight sharpens, and noise hurts her ears.

Zoe Lydon is afraid. She's not left her house in almost two year, and she has an almost suffocating fear of strangers, not to mention the outside world. What she's about to realize, however, is that she can escape her reality through her dreams. Unfortunately, it's quite possible that her nightmares are only just beginning....

Moving across the country and opening a costume shop was supposed to be my chance for a normal life. What I wanted was a fresh start, one where the biggest danger would be a carelessly wielded sewing needle. What I ended up with was a trail of dead bodies, a power I didn't ask for, and a host of enemies with ties to my twin sister's decade-old murder. Throw in a stony-eyed enforcer I can't seem to shake and a new goat shifter BFF, and I'm knee deep in trouble.

Kit McCafferty's life is quiet, unremarkable, and filled with cat hair. In the magical city of Coldstream, located on the border between Scotland and England, Kit is viewed as little more than mildly eccentric and mostly harmless. She passes her days caring for her family of five cats, feeding the local feral moggies, and maintaining relatively good relations with her neighbors. All that changes, however, when a teenage werewolf shows up at her door in the desperate hope of renting out a nearby vacant flat.

There’s a smokin’ hot dead guy locked in my garden shed. That part’s bad enough. But now, he’s trying to get out...Growing up, my father always told me that I’d come to a bad end, just like my mom did when I was a kid. Hearing that kind of shit when you’re little eventually gets to a girl, but I can’t say I ever expected my "bad end" to involve an angry vampire with a severe case of iron deficiency and a panty-melting English accent.

I am many things, but a supernatural being is not one of them. At least not until a crescent mark appears on my wrist and everything changes. I’ve been marked by a wolf goddess, yet no one knows what that means, myself included.

I woke up with fangs, a thirst for blood, and no memories of my past. To add to my confusion, the Grim Reaper is inexplicably hell-bent on ending me. Who would've thought that the God of the Dead would wear designer suits and ooze power and danger like a mob boss straight from the underworld?