June's got a pretty easy job as the personal assistant to her twin brother, star of the number one nature show on TV. Then he's accused of murder. Which sucks. Networks tend to fire first and ask questions later. And June doesn't want to lose her cushy assistant job. Or, you know, see her twin end up in jail. When she stumbles onto a clue, she's forced to turn to the only person who can prove her brother's innocence: her arch nemesis. Just one problem. Somebody wants him dead.

Most Sinful residents are unaware of Carter’s crisis and are going about their daily lives as they always have, including local prankster Gage Babin. Except this time, Gage’s attempt to elicit laughs leaves him on a slab in the medical examiner’s office. Everyone knows how unhealthy he was, but Fortune thinks there’s more to his death than a poorly timed prank that caused his bad heart to give out.

It's 1974 and Ellison Russell's life revolves around her daughter and her art. She's long since stopped caring about her cheating husband, Henry, and the women with whom he entertains himself. That is, until she becomes a suspect in Madeline Harper's death. The murder forces Ellison to confront her husband's proclivities and his crimes - kinky sex, petty cruelties, and blackmail. As the body count approaches par on the seventh hole, Ellison knows she has to catch a killer.

Everyone knows a Juniper Holiday Halloween party is to die for. To get an invite is the most talked about topic in Crescent Cove. To experience the Holiday mansion in all its (supposedly) haunted glory is the stuff of legend. Of course, no one has actually seen a ghost in residence—but how could they when they’re having the time of their life?

Most people flee to Hawaii for gorgeous weather, white-sand beaches, and cocktails at sunset. Charlotte Gibson, however, is fleeing for her life after a vengeful mobster leaves a severed finger on her doorstep as a warning. Message very much received.

For as long as Meg Dawson can remember, she’s been able to see ghosts. As much as Meg views it as a gift, she’s paid a price her ability; people often find her odd and quiet. Still, she wouldn’t trade her capabilities for anything because they brought her Ripley, her best friend. Having died in the car accident that killed Meg’s mom, Ripley sees it as her duty-after-death to watch over Meg and make sure she has a happy life.

Six months into her marriage, Samantha True she learns her new husband's been killed in a freak accident, she’s inherited his secret PI business, and he had another wife. Broke and devastated, she dives into learning the PI business—how hard can it be? Following a binge-watching how-to session on YouTube, Sam’s ready to take her first case. When mysterious strangers show up at her doorstep demanding information about her dead husband, she realizes she's in over her head. Samantha must discover who he really was. But what if the truth puts her in danger, too?

A woman is found strangled in her bed, and Detective Madison Knight doesn’t think it’s anything more than an isolated incident. But when another woman’s body is discovered in a park, killed with the same brand of neckties, she can’t ignore the similarities between the two murders. Still, it’s not until a third victim surfaces that Madison really starts to fear the worst: The city of Stiles just may have a serial killer.

I left a big-city police department for a fresh start in a smaller town. Less crime. Less murder. But three months later, I’ve been handed the murder investigation of the most hated man in town. The list of potential suspects is as long as Santa’s naughty list, but one name keeps popping up. Maddie Baker. She’s infuriating as hell, but is she a cold-blooded murderer? My instincts tell me no, yet I can’t exactly trust those. The last time I let myself presume someone was innocent, I ended up with a bullet wound and a broken heart.

My name is Gracie Springs, and I am not a witch… but I’m pretty sure my cat is. I first started to get suspicious when he jumped just a little too high while chasing after a robin in our front yard. I knew for sure when he opened up his mouth and addressed me by name! The first thing he told me? That he doesn’t like the name I gave him—even though “Fluffy” fits him like a warm sweater at Christmas. Now we’ve compromised on “Merlin the Magical Fluff,” which according to him references his long and proud lineage just fine.