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.

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.

Ellie Gleason has protected the town of Samford, Alabama, for decades. It's not as glamorous as her glory days as the WitchLight Hub, but it keeps her active during her golden years. Life is good. Well, it's okay. It could be bloodier with a smidge more gore, but retirement is meant to be low-key. It's not like her fragile bones could handle the strenuous hunt for monsters anymore, even if her current duties are dull as dishwater. But when her great-nephew shows up on her doorstep in tears, begging for help, Ellie straps on her beloved shotgun, Bam-Bam, and gets the coven back together.

The whole dying thing sucked, but Frankie isn't going to dwell. She's focusing on the positive. She's alive. Ish. Her family is safe. Her business is booming. She's even got a boyfriend. Everything is coming up roses in Thunderbolt, Georgia. Until a client decides she needs more time and makes a run for it in her loaner body.

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.

It’s been more than twenty years since tragedy prompted Luna Valens to walk away from her pack. Scarred by her past, she’s done her best to lead a normal human life. Thanks to a potion that suppresses her magic, nobody around her has a clue that she’s a werewolf. Until… Her potion supplier disappears, her family reestablishes contact, and a mysterious werewolf with a metal detector and a penchant for calling her my lady saunters into her life.

Remember that old line about how the only way out of the organization is in a pine box? Well, Rue Hollis spent 10 years thinking she had escaped the Black Hat Bureau, no coffin required. Then her former partner had to go and shatter the illusion by showing up on her doorstep with grim tidings.

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.

Hallie works as a skip tracer—hunting down people wanted by the law, for one reason or another. It's not glamourous, and it doesn't pay all that well. But it's legal work, and that's hard to come by in low city. When her best-and only—friend calls her in a panic, Hallie goes to help and gets a lot more than she bargained for. One of the elite has been murdered and the city police and special investigators are looking for someone to blame. The moment Hallie is near a dead body of one of the ruling class, her hard work and clean record count for nothing.

Welcome to The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar. I'm Sam Quinn, the werewolf book nerd in charge. I run my business by one simple rule: Everyone needs a good book and a stiff drink, be they vampire, wicche, demon, or fae. No wolves, though. Ever. I serve the supernatural community of San Francisco. We've been having some problems lately. Okay, I'm the one with the problems. The broken body of a female werewolf washed up on my doorstep. What makes sweat pool at the base of my spine, though, is realizing the scars she bears are identical to the ones I conceal.

Half-bloods with Thierry's skill set are given two options. They can join the conclave's marshal program, or they can pack their bags. Turn down the job offer, and you've just shredded your residency pass for the mortal realm and booked yourself a one-way ticket to Faerie. Texas is the only home Thierry has ever known, and she's not going anywhere. Even if it means following in her notorious father's footsteps as a peacekeeper. But pinning on the badge opens her eyes to the fact sometimes fae need protection too, and that sometimes humans are the real monsters.

After an epidemic of attacks by newly risen vampires terrorizes the city, authorities pressure Charles Vaughan and the Vampire Court to determine who is responsible. Complicating matters, a local businessman hires infamous bounty hunter Jack Justice to find and execute the rogues after his sister is attacked.

Hadley Whitaker is a liar, a killer, and a chocoholic, but she's getting better about the first two. Or maybe she's just getting better at them. Some days it's hard for her to tell fact from fiction, but only one truth matters. Goddess willing, she's going to be the next Potentate of Atlanta. Even if it means playing nice with Midas Kinase, a shifter whose mysterious past might just be grimmer than her own. When a bloodthirsty rogue begins hunting the city's paranormals, Hadley ropes Midas into letting her work the case. But that rope starts to feel more like a noose.

Hali Waverly is a witch about town, owner of the Salty Cauldron, the best tiki bar on St. Pete Beach. Her life should be grand, but trouble keeps finding her.

Ellie Gleason has protected the town of Samford, Alabama, for decades. It's not as glamorous as her glory days as the WitchLight Hub, but it keeps her active during her golden years. Life is good. Well, it's okay. It could be bloodier with a smidge more gore, but retirement is meant to be low-key. It's not like her fragile bones could handle the strenuous hunt for monsters anymore, even if her current duties are dull as dishwater. But when her great-nephew shows up on her doorstep in tears, begging for help, Ellie straps on her beloved shotgun, Bam-Bam, and gets the coven back together.

Camille Ellis is the Earthen Conclave's golden girl. Her peculiar talent solves cases with a touch. She isn't afraid of getting her hands dirty, but every bright star casts a shadow, and her deepest scars lurk just beneath the skin. A routine consultation goes sideways when a victim's brother gets involved in the investigation. Riding the edge of grief, the warg will go to any lengths to avenge his sister's death. Even if it means ensuring Cam's cooperation at the jaws of his wolf.

The whole dying thing sucked, but Frankie isn't going to dwell. She's focusing on the positive. She's alive. Ish. Her family is safe. Her business is booming. She's even got a boyfriend. Everything is coming up roses in Thunderbolt, Georgia. Until a client decides she needs more time and makes a run for it in her loaner body.

Remember that old line about how the only way out of the organization is in a pine box? Well, Rue Hollis spent 10 years thinking she had escaped the Black Hat Bureau, no coffin required. Then her former partner had to go and shatter the illusion by showing up on her doorstep with grim tidings.

Hallie works as a skip tracer—hunting down people wanted by the law, for one reason or another. It's not glamourous, and it doesn't pay all that well. But it's legal work, and that's hard to come by in low city. When her best-and only—friend calls her in a panic, Hallie goes to help and gets a lot more than she bargained for. One of the elite has been murdered and the city police and special investigators are looking for someone to blame. The moment Hallie is near a dead body of one of the ruling class, her hard work and clean record count for nothing.

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.

Sophie doesn't have big ambitions. She only wants a job that will keep her landlord off her back, enough extra cash for whiskey at the neighborhood bar and a bit of free time to hang out with the naughty old lady next door. When a chance encounter with a quiet stranger leads to a job offer at the San Francisco City Morgue, Sophie jumps at the opportunity. She never expected to find her calling on the graveyard shift surrounded by dead bodies and the strange characters that make up the morgue's staff.

Daisy Carter knows she's not anyone special. She might be brave and resourceful. She might possess a touch more magic than your average low elf. But, when it comes down to it, she's just another delivery driver trying to make a living. Admittedly, life would be easier without her addiction to a dangerous drug called spider's silk—but she's got her reasons for that. Nobody's perfect. However, Daisy's world changes when she crosses paths with Hugo Pemberville, the celebrated high elf who's well known for being an accomplished treasure hunter.

It’s been more than twenty years since tragedy prompted Luna Valens to walk away from her pack. Scarred by her past, she’s done her best to lead a normal human life. Thanks to a potion that suppresses her magic, nobody around her has a clue that she’s a werewolf. Until… Her potion supplier disappears, her family reestablishes contact, and a mysterious werewolf with a metal detector and a penchant for calling her my lady saunters into her life.

Half-bloods with Thierry's skill set are given two options. They can join the conclave's marshal program, or they can pack their bags. Turn down the job offer, and you've just shredded your residency pass for the mortal realm and booked yourself a one-way ticket to Faerie. Texas is the only home Thierry has ever known, and she's not going anywhere. Even if it means following in her notorious father's footsteps as a peacekeeper. But pinning on the badge opens her eyes to the fact sometimes fae need protection too, and that sometimes humans are the real monsters.

What does divorcing Hollywood’s most powerful jerk get you? In my case, blacklisted and a ticket to rock bottom. A one-time studio executive, I’m now scrabbling as a newly licensed P.I. in the city that popularized noir. And I’ve just landed a job at a shabby downtown agency. Watch out, LA! But that was before I discovered the agency’s specialty—hunting monsters. The actual kind. Suddenly, I’m learning about a side of the city that makes horror seem like a documentary: vampires, werewolves, hostile spirits, and all manner of magic.

When a detective with a penchant for chaos gets saddled with a new partner, a case that doesn’t make sense, and some particularly determined assassins…justice feels out of reach. Logan Blackwell has been a detective for a long time. After all, mages live for centuries. He lost his parents to the Mage Wars and his best friend to organized crime.

Aviva Fleischer hides a dangerous secret. She’s carefully concealing her infernal heritage, a.k.a. Cherry Bomb. Maybe it’s weird naming her demon side and referring to her in the third person, but guys do the same with their junk, and unlike most of them, Avi isn’t deluded about Cherry’s prowess.

Hadley Whitaker is a liar, a killer, and a chocoholic, but she's getting better about the first two. Or maybe she's just getting better at them. Some days it's hard for her to tell fact from fiction, but only one truth matters. Goddess willing, she's going to be the next Potentate of Atlanta. Even if it means playing nice with Midas Kinase, a shifter whose mysterious past might just be grimmer than her own. When a bloodthirsty rogue begins hunting the city's paranormals, Hadley ropes Midas into letting her work the case. But that rope starts to feel more like a noose.

Ever had life kick you in the teeth after it shoved you down the stairs? Yeah, that’s how my day was heading. And then I saw an ad in the paper that changed my life—"Wanted: Vampire’s Assistant".