Bookish, snarky, and fiercely independent Nate Boudreaux leads a solitary life. Between teaching classes at the university and working toward his PhD, he doesn’t need a partner to occupy his time, and he certainly doesn’t need a man like Alistair Drake complicating his future. Alistair Drake, black sheep of the tremendously wealthy Drake family, is more interested in adding another notch to his bedpost than another zero to his bank account.

Keats McCulloch opened his florist shop in Sydney two years ago and he’s living his dream. Even though running his own business leaves little room for a personal life, he is very single, sometimes lonely, but otherwise happy.

After spending the last 200 years locked up in the family castle with his three younger brothers, Erwan is climbing the walls. Literally. He’s a dragon who isn’t allowed to fly, forbidden to use his magic, all to stay hidden from the rest of the world. How will he ever find his mate like this? But when he finds an injured omega in the woods around the castle and brings him home, the spell that kept them hidden is broken. Erwan’s father is furious—not that that’s anything new. The man has basically been angry all Erwan’s life, though why, he doesn’t know.

When the light-magic users known as Casters took everything from me, I vowed to make them pay. Little did I know the perfect opportunity would show up in the form of a sweet Caster the moment I took his arrow to the heart…literally. Bastian knows that I’m made of dark magic, the very thing he’s been taught to destroy. But instead of turning away from me, he takes a chance on me, leading me behind the walls of the group out to kill me.

Pixies are supposed to be petite, beautifully lithe creatures with gossamer wings. Sporting luscious, ombre pink hair and fluttering pink wings, Phil meets two out of three of those criteria. At over six feet tall, no one would dare call Phil petite. As a home-and-hearth pixie, Phil yearns to find a home and family he can bond to. When no one's willing to hire a pixie of his stature, Phil is forced to find work elsewhere. Turns out, pixies make terrible bouncers.

Angelus Salvatore is the only necromancer in all of Boston, and his name is whispered warily by the undead and fellow sorcerers alike. He and his brother Isaac are the lone survivors of an attack by an army of the undead, in which Angel used a spell so powerful it forever marked his place in history. Now, years later, Angel struggles to balance his career as a teacher of the higher magical arts, his role as big brother, and a tenuous relationship with an Elder vampire from the local clan.

Moms are good at one thing: the guilt trip. It’s the only reason I’m at the funeral of a man I’ve never had anything to do with. I’ll show up, make her happy, and get out. At least that’s what I think until I learn daddy dearest has left me a crap load of money and the obligation to learn about the family business. All from his eldest son who looks nothing like the rest of us.

There's an honesty in the turning of the earth, in the turning of the seasons, and I've always preferred its quiet, steadfast company over that of other people. Left alone with an inherited cottage and my beloved pup Rotho to look after, my days are largely given to tending the garden, save for periodic errands in town.

Awkward outcast omega Emery Jones isn't expecting to find anything more than adventure when he leaves his favorite hiking path and follows a strange series of markers through the woods...and he's certainly not expecting to come face to face with the most gorgeous man he's ever seen. He's instantly smitten, but there's one problem - his dream guy insists that he's a dragon prince from another time, and Emery is his fated mate! After thousands of years in stasis, Coryphaeus of Novis, the draconian Crown Prince, has been awakened by a kiss from his fated mate.  

After half a century of chaos, my retirement from leading the Community of Species Government has been bliss. No more hellhounds playing pranks. No more snippy demons demanding my attention. No more cajoling money from the wealthy to support the community. Just peace while I avoid my overbearing father and try to work out my next steps. Although...maybe three years of peace is enough. It might even be starting to get boring. In fact, an adolescent dragon crash-landing on my landlord's shed is just the kind of excitement I need - especially when he brings his species leader to my door.

You belong to me and I know it down deep, in muscle and bone, where my wolf lives. Avery Rhine isn’t an average homicide detective with the Chicago PD. In fact, Avery isn’t an average anything. Sure, as an omega he knows he’s at the bottom of the food chain, but that’s never slowed him down. He’s got a great life, complete with a loving family and a best friend who’d take a bullet for him, so what more could he possibly want or need? Except, maybe, for the world to change.

I’m not anti-relationship, but my life is good right now, and love is not a priority. Too bad my grandmother disagrees. People say she’s scary, and sure, some of her enemies went missing under mysterious circumstances, but she loves me and wants the best for me…which right now, is marriage.

Ari had a game plan for life: shoot people. Get money. Hang out with fellow criminal friends. He saw absolutely no reason to change that plan until one dark night in Memphis, when a little girl reached out to him with pocket change and a desperate plea for him to help her. Adopting an abused little girl off the streets was, needless to say, not part of the plan. Ari had no idea what he was doing with an eight year old. He especially didn’t know how to juggle taking contracts and raising a little girl.

Indulge in all the shenanigans at CSG in one volume! Hellhounds declaring a glitter fight? Vampires at war with accounting? It's another day at the Community of Species Government.

I’m never one to turn down a bet. Especially not when it comes to retaliating against the dean for pulling a dick move before summer break. So when the dean’s golden child arrives at Astor for his freshman year, my fellow troublemakers throw down a wager I can’t resist. The target: the dean’s son, John Thomas Hawthorne, or “JT”. The bet: corruption in any way I choose. It should’ve been easy. With his mess of brown curls, pouty lips, and good-boy reputation, JT is the perfect revenge. And even better? He’s straight.