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.

Grier Woolworth spends her nights weaving spooky tales of lost souls and tragedies for tourists on the streets of downtown Savannah. Hoop skirt and parasol aside, it's not a bad gig. The pay is crap, but the tips keep the lights on in her personal haunted mansion and her pantry stocked with ramen. Life is about as normal as it gets for an ex-necromancer hiding among humans - until the society that excommunicated Grier offers her a second chance at being more than ordinary. Too bad no one warned her the trouble with being extraordinary is it can get you killed.  

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.

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.

Arwen Forester may be a socially awkward introvert, but she’s an expert tracker, archer, and forager who has a pickling recipe for every vegetable in the garden. Unfortunately, none of these skills earn her a lot of money. And when the taxes go up on her father’s farm, she’s not sure how to help him keep the property. Then someone offers her a lucrative new gig: Hunt down a haughty half-dragon criminal with the power to incinerate those who irritate him.

When my magic manifested at puberty, my parents sold me to the Illuminati. The Order of the Illuminati trained me as an assassin, spy, and thief. But when they sent me to steal a magical artifact that reveals Truth in all things, I discovered that I was working for the Dark and not the Light. The Illuminati trained me well, and paid the ultimate price for their deception.  

My name is Winter Wayne, and I'm a Bone witch - minus the magic. There's a price on my head, and my own coworkers are hunting me down. My mad fighting skills alone aren't going to be enough to keep me alive. Looks like the time has come to dig out my mother's bones and complete the ritual that will finally ignite the magic in my bones - if I even make it that far. She never wanted me to be part of the paranormal world, but she made sure I was prepared for it anyway. I'm finally about to find out why.

My name is Danica James. I'm a cop with the Arcane Division. Most mages have the ability to manipulate the elements - fire, water, air, earth, electricity. My magic only works on machines and electrical devices. They call me a magitek. That doesn't help much with demons and vampires, let alone criminals with lethal magikal powers.

The fae of the Night Court are desperately searching for a new monarch to crown before the Court collapses. I couldn’t care less. I’ve done everything I can to bury my fae blood and embrace my human half. That changes when some fae nobles show up on my doorstep and announce that I’m the next Queen of the Night Court. Becoming an unwilling fae queen? Check. Inheriting a terrible mess? Double check.

"Happily Ever After" wasn't supposed to come with a do-over option. But when my husband of 20 years packs up and heads for greener pastures, and my son heads away to college, that's exactly what my midlife becomes. A do-over. This time, though, I plan to do things differently. Age is just a number, after all, and at 40 I'm ready to carve my own path. Eager for a fresh start, I make a somewhat unorthodox decision and move to a tiny town in the Sierra foothills.