Xander Corey lives simply, sustainably, on the outskirts of Osprey, a small, quaint town in Upstate New York. He’s a librarian when the town’s budget can afford him, a good friend, kind neighbor, and also, a witch. And while that’s of no concern to anyone around him, there are others, non-humans, who have a vested interest in Xander’s family land. Xander knows something dark and dangerous is brewing. He’s just not quite sure what.

When ghostwriter Maz Amani inherits a house from an uncle he’s never heard of, he offers heartfelt thanks to the universe, packs up his car, his cat, and his skepticism about mysterious uncles leaving all their worldly goods to unknown nephews, and high-tails it to a small town halfway to the Oregon coast. Anything would be better than week after week of couch surfing his way around Portland. Even if the alleged house is a rundown shack ridden with termites, spiders, and—shudder—rats, he’ll deal. Because hey, he owns a house!

Ash is technically a fire mage, but he can't do much. Turning his bedroom lights on and off without having to get out of bed isn't exactly awe inspiring, not when anyone with the right gadget could clap and do the same thing. Worse, sometimes he senses something bigger and brighter lurking under his skin, and it feels so familiar he knows it has to be his magic, but then he burps or sneezes, and the feeling passes. So it's probably just allergies . . . or gas. Yeah . . . Not exactly brimming with magical oomph. Not anymore. It sucks.

I've spent most of my life knowing that supernatural creatures exist but never really interacting with any, so my knowledge of them is limited. Still, who would've thought a demisexual incubus was a thing? Well apparently, not only is it a thing, but I have one who claims to be my soulmate—or viramore, as he calls it. And now he has it in his head that he's going to save me from my past.

Well, he loves the idea of his job. It’s just that the reality of marketing isn’t a creative joy, it’s a soul-crushing corporate rat race. His boss keeps taking credit for his work, and his coworkers couldn’t be less sympathetic if they tried.

Vlad has lived longer than he has a right to, and the last hundred years have gone terribly, beginning with the death of his oldest friend and culminating in a hunter trying to invade his grandson’s estate. The presence of Kain could spell disaster for his court, but when he discovers that the Hellsing family had a seventh-born son of a seventh-born son, pointing out a flaw in his spy network, Vlad decided to keep the man with him. A decision that has absolutely nothing to do with how pretty the young hunter looks with defiance in his eyes and venom on his tongue.

As a lieutenant at the Fool's Pass Fire Department and a single father, Easton Kooper's life revolves around his children. When he receives an urgent call from his son's doctor, it upends Easton's world. With no idea of what to do or where to turn, he's never felt more lost. And then in walks the answer he didn't know he needed: a gorgeous fae with an angelic smile, bearing grand promises to turn the Kooper family's life right side up again.

Finally reunited with Raul, but now separated from his twin brother, Devon, Brad has learned the hard way that magic is far from an exact science. Not that his grades in actual science were all that stellar to begin with. Now he has to find a way to get back into The Wolf's Mate with Raul, hope the threatening visions he's having of Constantine following him into the real world are just dreams rather than premonitions, and deal with a heroine who's furious Brad has usurped her role, all while fending off morning sickness.

Weirdly, people don’t react overly well when you’re caught standing over the dead body of a murderer who’d walked free. It’s not that I thought my fellow homicide detective would rejoice when he saw what I’d done, but is a pat on the back too much to ask for? Maybe a gold star at the very least? The problem is that the person who caught me is Gabriel, the only person I care for and adore… and he’s prepared to look the other way if I leave homicide and promise to never kill again.

Poe: As the king of the crossroads demons, I hold all our secrets, and they aren’t all fun. I do my best to keep things running properly and modernize when I need to. But crossroads demons are slowly finding their truths, being released from duties, and I’m starting to flounder. Becoming the head of Hex, Indiana’s leading council has helped, but is it enough when I’m used to ruling over thousands? I’ll help anyone however I can, but what if I’m the one that needs it?

Rhett's inheritance of the gorgeous Victorian house was expected. What was not expected was: Two familiars; A house full of ghosts; Magic powers?!; A new boyfriend, maybe, possibly, please, and thank you. Now, if he could just figure out how to handle everything, life would be peachy.

Hex, Indiana is the one place Gabe has found acceptance as a nephilim. He keeps his head down and enjoys his work at the one bar in town while making sure stray feathers don’t find their way into the wrong hands. Tending his beloved plants helps him stay busy, but he longs for someone to care for.

George Hunt can think of nothing he’d like more than to skip the high-society fundraiser where he has to guard a precocious seventeen-year-old girl and her judgmental therapist, but there’s no way out of it. If anything bad were to happen and he wasn’t there to stop it, he’d never forgive himself. So even though she’s grilling him about his dating life and the good doctor is psychoanalyzing him, he’s going to soldier on, because protecting his charges is what a knight does.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.

At least that's what I tell myself when I witness the same hot guy commit mass murder three times in a few days. I'm either the luckiest mute boy ever or possibly the unluckiest. Who knows, maybe him kidnapping me will turn into the greatest love story ever told? Hey, it could happen! You never know how these things will turn out. I happen to believe in love and soulmates, and if nothing else, Arlington Fox doesn't treat my disability like a nuisance.