I always thought the gods were a myth. Then again, I thought the same thing about witches. I'm no stranger to darkness. I've been dealing with it all my life. That's just part of being a "mutant psychic". But when my witch powers start to manifest, my life takes on a new direction entirely. Suddenly, I’m recruited by the Shadow Order, a supernatural agency dedicated to the protection of the covens. My primary task? To read supernatural crime scenes. Trust me, at that point the word “dark” takes on a whole new meaning.

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.

When the fae beckon, few resist. Even fewer return. As a veil witch, I'm used to taking out the supernatural trash. Everything from poltergeists to vampires, you name it and I've dealt with it. So opening a paranormal cleanup business just seemed to make sense. If I'm already dealing with the pests, why not get paid? But when I accidentally breach the faerie realm to encounter a girl recently reported missing, start seeing the ghost of a witch whose disappearance has never been solved, and discover a Book of Shadows that opens only for me, I can't just go back to business as usual.

Jolene Hartgrave, here! I went from being a top dog lawyer to a hangdog pet psychic in the ruff part of town, all thanks to a pesky curse that gave me the gift of gabbing with animals. But my luck is finally looking up. I’ve teamed up with a hottie police officer and his snarky, lie-sniffing German shepherd to catch criminals. From a murdered fashion icon spinning a web of lies to the killed curator of an occult museum, I’m doggedly helping the police bring the bad guys to justice.

As if being locked up in the crazy house wasn’t bad enough, I wake up to discover that the person I trust most in the world just morphed into a bloodthirsty monster. My only chance for escape comes in the form of two women calling out from within a shimmering tunnel. So, it's either stick around and get murdered or jump through some kind of portal. 

I just woke up in a motel. I have no idea who I am or how I got here. But I do know three things. There's a body on the floor...and one in the bathtub. There's a bullet in my shoulder. And it hurts. Bad. And there's a vampire warlock right outside the door. And he's coming to finish the job.

I wouldn’t say my life is a dumpster fire — but it’s far from typical. I’m frenemies with the local werewolves’ Alpha, my clients are shady as hell, and my magic falls firmly in the WTF category. Mephisto, my mysterious and powerful client, is more interested in my magic than the jobs he’s hired me for. And I’m pretty sure my court-ordered therapist thinks I’m an ass. 

There are three absolutes in Mairi Wallace's world: 1. The Mages rule every city in Scotland with terrible, violent authority. 2. It is not physically possible for any woman to wield magic. 3. Mairi does not have a voice. She is about to learn that none of these things have to be true. From twisted wynds and tartan shops to a dangerous daemon and malevolent ravens, the future of a tattered nation might lie with one solitary woman.

Ashira Cohen takes great pride in the detective agency she’s built from scratch. It may be small, but she has big dreams. None of which involve a stakeout gone wrong. Or finding a mysterious tattoo hidden on her scalp. Or discovering it’s a now-broken ward intended to suppress dangerous supernatural powers that she should not possess.

She’s happy renovating homes and occasionally thumping bad guys until she learns of a mysterious artifact hidden under the house she’s working on. Everybody from humans to orcs to werewolves wants it, and they’re willing to kill to get it. Things go from bad to worse when someone frames her for murder.