You'd think that basically being in charge of love would be an epic job, right? Wrong. Sure, I can blow some Lust into people's faces and watch the show, but I can't actually participate. It gets old, trust me. Same goes for love. I can pass it out like sugar-free lollipops at a dentist's office, but I can't get any love for myself. It totally sucks. I used to consider myself a hopeless romantic, so why wouldn't I choose to become a cupid? Sounds like a good idea, right? Wrong again. They don't call us stupid cupids for nothing.

Here’s what I know. Being a cupid is hard work. Love Matches, Lust Breath, Flirt Touches, not to mention having to meet my quotas every month. And hitting your target with arrows? That shit is not easy. But all of that I could handle. Gladly. If only my cupid powers would actually work. The clock is ticking, but I have the perfect candidate to start with. Warren Knight. Smart, hot as hell, rich, bachelor-dud extraordinaire. Of course, the asshole doesn’t want to fall in love, so I have my work cut out for me.

I live with a pack of misfit shifters. We aren't going to be winning any popularity contests, but our hodgepodge bunch is more loyal than even the strongest pred packs. I should know. I grew up in one of them. As soon as they realized I was different, I was despised, even by my own family. So I left, joined Pack Aberrant, and I've steered clear of alpha pred assholes ever since. Until my heatwave hits, and I accidentally jump three coyote shifters in a parking lot. Whoopsie.

King Midas rescued me. Dug me out of the slums and placed me on a pedestal. I'm called his precious. His favored. I'm the woman he Gold-Touched to show everyone that I belong to him. To show how powerful he is. He gave me protection, and I gave him my heart. And even though I don't leave the confines of the palace, I'm safe. Until war comes to the kingdom and a deal is struck.

It’s never a good combo to be broke and desperate. You do stupid things. Like accidentally sign your soul over to hell. When I interviewed for a new security job, I didn’t bat an eye that it was for a literal graveyard shift...headstones and all. I mean, at the hourly rate they were offering, who cares? I got this. Turns out, I’m not guarding a graveyard like I thought. It seems I’ve just walked my broke ass into protecting a gate to hell. Yeah...I don’t got this.

The vampire prince has never claimed a human. Until now. My whole life I’ve been nothing but a means to an end; livestock kept caged for the production of blood. I’ve stared through fences at the promise of freedom countless times, but the only way anyone escapes this hell is in the hands of a bloodsucker.

I'm not so different from most people. Like everyone else, I have life goals. Goal #1: Become a real girl instead of this invisible ghost thing I currently am. Goal #2: Convince the four men I've been haunting for the past five years to pick me to be their new toy after goal one is complete. Goal #3: Figure out who/what I am and why I can't remember anything past the five years I've been haunting this quad. Goal #4: Eat popcorn. See? Perfectly normal. Sort of. Gotta start small, after all. It's not like anyone else is perfect either.

After the death of my mother and her Bonded, I was relieved to find my own Bonds. I was sure everything would be okay if I had them. It wasn’t. The fate of our people is in my hands, and I know we’re better off if I’m alone. After five years on the run, I’m caught and dragged back to face the men I ran away from. I thought I was doing the right thing. Now, I’m not so sure.

My name is Vinna, and I've been keeping a lot of secrets. You would too if you'd experienced some of the weird shit I have: red-eyed monsters chasing me, markings on my body appearing out of nowhere, a strange power that crackles colorfully over my skin from time to time, and don't get me started on the weapons I can conjure up almost out of nowhere.

I'm not all that special, really. I'm sure there are a lot of girls with old gypsy blood who see the dead, have killer cults hunting their family, and turn into something that gets scary when they panic. Yep. I'm just an ordinary girl. I wish people would believe that. I've been labeled as one thing or another for most of my life: Death Girl. Crazy Gypsy Girl. Gothic Chick. Monster. It took my mother's death for me to finally start getting answers about what's really been going on. Unfortunately, most of the answers come from men...who aren't just men.

I don’t believe in fate, but I do know this…the King who killed my brother is a dead man walking. And I’m prepared to sacrifice my heart, body and soul to ensure I get my revenge.

Bryce Quinlan had the perfect life until a demon murdered her closest friends. When the accused is behind bars but the crimes start up again, Bryce finds herself at the heart of the investigation. She'll do whatever it takes to avenge their deaths. Hunt Athalar is a notorious Fallen angel, now enslaved to the Archangels. His brutal skills and incredible strength have been set to one purpose-to assassinate his boss's enemies, no questions asked. But with a demon wreaking havoc in the city, he's offered an irresistible deal: help Bryce find the murderer, and his freedom will be within reach.

There were six of us. Caged, turned into monsters, and tormented with brutal tests of our horrific emerging abilities. We had only each other to count on...until our escape attempt ended with one dead, the others recaptured, and me dragged away into a different nightmare.

It’s not easy making the career jump from office-supplies-store middle manager to heroic interdimensional adventurer. At least, Jason tries to be heroic, but it's hard to be good when all your powers are evil. He’ll face off against cannibals, cultists, wizards, monsters...and that’s just on the first day. He’s going to need courage, he’s going to need wit, and he’s going to need some magic powers of his own. But first, he’s going to need pants.

We were fighting on the wrong side of a war we couldn't win. And that was the good news. The Ruhar hit us on Columbus Day. There we were, innocently drifting along the cosmos on our little blue marble, like the native Americans in 1492. Over the horizon come ships of a technologically advanced, aggressive culture, and BAM! There go the good old days, when humans only got killed by each other. So, Columbus Day. It fits. When the morning sky twinkled again, this time with Kristang starships jumping in to hammer the Ruhar, we thought we were saved.

You'd think that basically being in charge of love would be an epic job, right? Wrong. Sure, I can blow some Lust into people's faces and watch the show, but I can't actually participate. It gets old, trust me. Same goes for love. I can pass it out like sugar-free lollipops at a dentist's office, but I can't get any love for myself. It totally sucks. I used to consider myself a hopeless romantic, so why wouldn't I choose to become a cupid? Sounds like a good idea, right? Wrong again. They don't call us stupid cupids for nothing.

Here’s what I know. Being a cupid is hard work. Love Matches, Lust Breath, Flirt Touches, not to mention having to meet my quotas every month. And hitting your target with arrows? That shit is not easy. But all of that I could handle. Gladly. If only my cupid powers would actually work. The clock is ticking, but I have the perfect candidate to start with. Warren Knight. Smart, hot as hell, rich, bachelor-dud extraordinaire. Of course, the asshole doesn’t want to fall in love, so I have my work cut out for me.

I live with a pack of misfit shifters. We aren't going to be winning any popularity contests, but our hodgepodge bunch is more loyal than even the strongest pred packs. I should know. I grew up in one of them. As soon as they realized I was different, I was despised, even by my own family. So I left, joined Pack Aberrant, and I've steered clear of alpha pred assholes ever since. Until my heatwave hits, and I accidentally jump three coyote shifters in a parking lot. Whoopsie.

It’s never a good combo to be broke and desperate. You do stupid things. Like accidentally sign your soul over to hell. When I interviewed for a new security job, I didn’t bat an eye that it was for a literal graveyard shift...headstones and all. I mean, at the hourly rate they were offering, who cares? I got this. Turns out, I’m not guarding a graveyard like I thought. It seems I’ve just walked my broke ass into protecting a gate to hell. Yeah...I don’t got this.

One minute, I'm running a macaron shop and nursing a broken heart, and the next minute, I'm holding search parties and raising reward money. But no amount of baked goods can bring her back. The Alpha Investigative Bureau is my last resort—three handsome detectives who are too busy to deal with one little Omega's troubles.

I'm not so different from most people. Like everyone else, I have life goals. Goal #1: Become a real girl instead of this invisible ghost thing I currently am. Goal #2: Convince the four men I've been haunting for the past five years to pick me to be their new toy after goal one is complete. Goal #3: Figure out who/what I am and why I can't remember anything past the five years I've been haunting this quad. Goal #4: Eat popcorn. See? Perfectly normal. Sort of. Gotta start small, after all. It's not like anyone else is perfect either.

I did a bad, bad thing. Thanks to a blank in my memory, I'm not sure what that thing was, but it was horrible enough to get me locked up in the psych ward for seven years.

I'm not all that special, really. I'm sure there are a lot of girls with old gypsy blood who see the dead, have killer cults hunting their family, and turn into something that gets scary when they panic. Yep. I'm just an ordinary girl. I wish people would believe that. I've been labeled as one thing or another for most of my life: Death Girl. Crazy Gypsy Girl. Gothic Chick. Monster. It took my mother's death for me to finally start getting answers about what's really been going on. Unfortunately, most of the answers come from men...who aren't just men.

Dareena Sellis is a nobody. The orphaned daughter of a no-name farmer, she toils away as a serving girl at Hallowdale Inn. But fate takes a strange turn the day a dragon huntress comes to town. Suddenly, Dareena is swept off to Dragon’s Keep. She is the dragon’s gift - the one woman chosen by the gods every century to bear children for the future king of Dragonfell. None of the princes are willing to cede Dareena to the other, and yet she must choose, for the enemy is knocking on Dragonfell’s door and Dareena’s decision could either mean the kingdom’s salvation...or annihilation.

What if Red Riding Hood didn't fall in love with one Big Bad Wolf, but three? I've been a city girl my entire life. But when my grandmother got sick, I didn't think twice before packing my bags and moving to Crimson Hollow, a small town in West Virginia. Two years later, I'm still here and finally adjusting to the quiet life. Only there's nothing ordinary about this town. A walk in the woods proved almost deadly and left me changed forever. I was attacked by a rogue wolf, and now, I belong to the Crimson Hollow pack. I'm a shifter.