Immortality sucks. Just ask Imogen Gray—over two hundred thousand years old and teetering on the edge of total insanity. All throughout history, she's been hunted by an ancient creature who finds her and rips her to pieces every time she dares to access her deepest powers. But Imogen always regenerates. Slowly. Painfully.

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.

The horror of waking up from the best dream ever and remembering you're a monster is indescribable. My soul is screaming for mercy, for forgiveness, for redemption…but I know I'll never get it.

Okay, I might be seriously under-qualified for the job of Enforcer, I'll admit. The Enforcer is supposed to be a human, for starters. It's usually an ex-special forces guy with big muscles and even bigger balls, and a knack for sorting out petty squabbles between the witches and vampires and shifters in the city. And I'm just a technically dead nail tech—an animated skeleton with a talent for illusion magic and gold gel manicures. But I've recently discovered that I can manifest some pretty big muscles of my own. I've already got the big balls, so I'm halfway there.

Things go from bad to worse when I get a summons to attend the vampire king’s court, where I get my marching orders. I’m given one lousy week to get my affairs in order, and then I’m to present myself to the conclave to commence my hundred years of indentured servitude, where I get to learn Vampire 101.

Twenty years ago, I escaped my hometown of Moonfell, a paranormal hotspot in the suburb of New York, a place hidden from human eyes. A place I swore I’d never return. But the gruesome murder of a teen werewolf brought me back. As I delve deeper into the case, I realize this was no ordinary killing. Someone or something is targeting the supernatural community. Struggling to control my powers, I find myself entangled in the drama of my neighbors.

When my most hated enemy, Bastion, comes to me for help I tell him to take a long walk off a short pier. I’m not helping the griffin assassin that once killed my lover. But when the Crone visits my coven, she tells me that I have to help him find his daughter or else I won’t achieve my full potential.

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.

I'm the local bed and breakfast owner who offers extras such as supernatural autopsies and burials, earning me the title of The Undertaker. A string of murders brings the lord of the shifters and the vampire prince to my door. Together we take on the evil lurking in the shadows. But as we draw closer to the truth, they begin to unpick my secrets, which I must protect with my life. Pity they have the best senses in town.

Finding my husband in bed with another woman was not how I planned to start my day. Or homeless the next minute. And broke. So, when a job comes my way from The Twilight Hotel—a paranormal hotel in midtown Manhattan that serves as a sanctuary and residence—I take it. Cue in tattooed, sexy as sin, grumpy restaurant owner Valen who can’t do drama or high-maintenance women. The problem? He’s cruel and dangerous. And he’s hiding something.