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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I hunt demons. I don’t work for them. And I promised my mom one thing before she was murdered: Under no circumstances would I ever go near the high demons. But I’ll break that promise over and over again if it helps me avenge her death. When my only lead turns to ash in the middle of demon territory, I’m suddenly a dead witch walking. Violence in Samael’s club is an automatic death sentence…unless he can use you. And it turns out that the most powerful demon in the country has a use for little ol’ me.

Anna never knew werewolves existed until the night she survived a violent attack…and became one herself. After three years at the bottom of the pack, she’d learned to keep her head down and never, ever trust dominant males. But Anna is that rarest kind of werewolf: an Omega. And one of the most powerful werewolves in the country will recognize her value as a pack member—and as his mate.

Plucked out of the Collector’s Pens, auctioned off to a vampire contingent, and sent across the ocean to the Alpha Territories was not exactly how I planned to spend my week. Actually, scratch that. I had planned the first bit. But I was supposed to be sold to the werewolves so I could save my friend from a fate worse than death. Instead, the bloodsuckers have me and so far? It's not going great. I've been shoved into a corset and made to look like an extra on the cast of Bridgerton, all to take part in the Harvest Games....

I was kept ignorant and sheltered my whole life. Now that I’m free, I’ll never be coddled again. Even if the smoking hot werewolf king thinks coddling is perfectly acceptable. Because something’s hunting humans in my city. Something that kills like a werewolf, but displays those kills publicly–as if taunting the authorities.