"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.

I'm Bree, and I see dead people. Not all dead people. Only those with unfinished business. They're everywhere—I'll be eating my breakfast, and a poisoned heiress glares over my Cheerios. I've returned to my hometown of Grimdale to cat-sit for my parents while I plan my next move. I'm looking forward to raiding their fridge, hanging out with their two kittens, and staying far, far away from anything supernatural. But I forgot that I'm never alone in Grimdale. The three ghosts I used to play with as a kid are back in my life again. Only now I'm their age, and they're infuriatingly attractive.

Elyseans are so wise… Elyseans are so beautiful…. Elyseans are divine… Elyseans are power-hungry assholes with a god complex. Yes, I said it. Sue me and bring out your pitchforks. Unfortunately for me, the deadly Elysean Trials are right around the corner. Despite my unpopular opinion of them and anything Olympian-gods related, when they unleash their strange blue birds to select mortals around the country as candidates, one of them chooses me.

The decision has been made. Jessie has taken the magic and all the weird that goes with it. Including wings. There's only one problem - she can't figure out how to access them. Through a series of terrible decisions, Jessie realizes she must ask for help. Gargoyle help. But she could've never predicted who answers her call - he's an excellent flier, incredibly patient, and a good trainer. He's also incredibly handsome. And interested.

Zoe and Luke are trying to play newlywed happy, but they already look ready for a divorce. It’s hate at first sight, but as the night progresses through wild first dances, awkward kisses on full display, and a humiliating experience with the president, the pretend feelings start to get dangerously close to real.

My parents made a deal with the devil, and now I’m a Hell Fae captive. Enslaved. Owned. Thrown to the Hellhounds and expected to survive. Because only survivors earn their mates. It doesn’t matter that I don’t want to be a bride. I’m a Halfling. Part Hell Fae and part girl-who-doesn’t-give-a-shit. But because of a bargain, he owns me. Lucifer. The Hell Fae King who created this godforsaken realm. Also known as the orchestrator of these deadly bride-trial games.

For a decade, I’ve hated the supernaturals who owned my world. I hunted them. I killed them. And now, in the most grand twist of fate - I am bonded to one of them. Oh, the irony. Being a supernatural bounty hunter isn’t exactly a popular job. But after the magic wars, there aren’t many things a human can do that will put food on the table. Thankfully, anything my right hook can’t handle, my guns can. Or so I thought.  

Concerned that technology is about to chase mythological creatures out into the open (how long can Sasquatch stay hidden from Google maps?), the League for Interspecies Cooperation is sending Jillian to Louisiana on a fact-finding mission. While the League hopes to hold on to secrecy for a little bit longer, they're preparing for the worst in terms of human reactions. They need a plan, so they look to Mystic Bayou, a tiny town hidden in the swamp where humans and supernatural residents have been living in harmony for generations.

Vampyres don't exist. They absolutely do not exist. At least I didn't think they did 'til I tried to quit smoking and ended up Undead. Who in the hell did I screw over in a former life that my getting healthy equates with dead? Now I'm a Vampyre. Yes, we exist whether we want to or not. However, I have to admit, the perks aren't bad. My girls no longer jiggle, my ass is higher than a kite, and the latest Prada keeps finding its way to my wardrobe.

Unable to shift for three months, Mateo Cruz knows all too well. His wolf has taken up residence in his head, taunting him night and day with vividly violent and carnal thoughts. Convinced he's cursed, he needs the help of a powerful witch before he literally goes insane. ​Evie Savoie has always obeyed the house rule of her coven: no werewolves. They're known for being volatile. So, when a distempered, dangerous werewolf strolls into the bar and almost strangles one of her late-night customers, she's ready to bounce him through the door. But she sees the desperation in his eyes....