As the pace of modern life accelerates, the old ways wither and die. But to the Society for Magickal Heritage, that just isn’t good enough.

As a Victorian clergyman's daughter, Edith Worms has seen everything-until a mythical salamander tumbles out of the fireplace into her lap. When a letter arrives from estranged relatives, Edith is swept away to a crumbling gothic Abbey in the wilds of Yorkshire. Wormwood Abbey isn't just full of curious beasts and ancient family secrets: there's also a tall, dark, and entirely too handsome neighbor who is strangely reluctant for her to leave.

Sensible, practical Elinor Tregarth really did plan to be the model poor relation when she moved into Hathergill Hall. She certainly never meant to kidnap her awful cousin Penelope's pet dragon. She never expected to fall in love with the shameless—but surprisingly sweet—fortune hunter who came to court Penelope. And she never dreamed that she would have to enter into an outrageous magical charade to save her younger sisters' futures. However, even the most brilliant scholars of 1817 England still haven't ferreted out all the lurking secrets of rediscovered dragonkind.

London, April 1812. Eighteen-year-old Lady Helen Wrexhall is on the eve of her debut presentation to the Queen. Her life should be about gowns and dancing, and securing a suitable marriage. Instead, when one of her family's housemaids goes missing, Lady Helen is drawn to the shadows of Regency London. There, she finds William, the Earl of Carlston. He has noticed the disappearance, too, and is one of the few who can stop the perpetrators: a cabal of powerful demons that has infiltrated every level of society.

London, 1861. Samantha Kingston has lived under the control of her overbearing uncle since the death of her parents six years ago. Trapped by the conventions of her gender and social class, she is desperate to find a way out. But when her aunt and uncle are murdered, the freedom she sought seems even further out of reach. A suspect in the crime, she finds herself on the run, unsure whom to trust, lost in the underworld she had only ever read about in the pages of a Dickens novel.

Hundreds of years before the great Mage War, a land lies, unknowing, on the edge of catastrophe.... Barl is young and impulsive, but she has a power within that calls to her. In her city, however, only those of noble blood and with the right connections learn the ways of the arcane. Barl is desperate to learn - but her eagerness to use her power leads her astray and she is banned from ever learning the mystic arts.

I make a living out of screwing over the jerks who capture and torment supernatural beasties. But when I free a bunch of particularly powerful monsters from their cages, I'm not counting on them following me home like lost puppies - stunningly hot lost puppies, but still. These manly monsters are determined to repay me for my help, and they won't get out of my apartment, until they're satisfied we're even. There's something to be said for allies so devoted they'll tear off heads and shred souls on your behalf. I'm all for joining forces.

In a fascinating tale of long-lost family ties, Miss Elizabeth Bennet finds herself face-to-face with her father after years of separation. The reunion sparks a whirlwind of conflicting sentiments as Elizabeth grapples with the daunting task of reconciling her past with her present. The challenges ahead loom large, requiring her to summon every ounce of strength and resilience she possesses.

Librarian Sherry Pinkwhistle keeps finding bodies—and solving murders. But she's concerned by just how many killers she's had to track down in her quaint village. None of her neighbors seem surprised by the rising body count...but Sherry is becoming convinced that whatever has been causing these deaths is unnatural. When someone close to Sherry ends up dead, and her cat, Lord Thomas Crowell, becomes possessed by what seems to be an ancient demon, Sherry begins to think she’s going to need to become an exorcist as well as an amateur sleuth.

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?