Camille Ellis is the Earthen Conclave's golden girl. Her peculiar talent solves cases with a touch. She isn't afraid of getting her hands dirty, but every bright star casts a shadow, and her deepest scars lurk just beneath the skin. A routine consultation goes sideways when a victim's brother gets involved in the investigation. Riding the edge of grief, the warg will go to any lengths to avenge his sister's death. Even if it means ensuring Cam's cooperation at the jaws of his wolf.

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.

Grier Woolworth spends her nights weaving spooky tales of lost souls and tragedies for tourists on the streets of downtown Savannah. Hoop skirt and parasol aside, it's not a bad gig. The pay is crap, but the tips keep the lights on in her personal haunted mansion and her pantry stocked with ramen. Life is about as normal as it gets for an ex-necromancer hiding among humans - until the society that excommunicated Grier offers her a second chance at being more than ordinary. Too bad no one warned her the trouble with being extraordinary is it can get you killed.  

Her beginning may be our end.... Deep in the humid Mississippi bayou, a half-wild child is dragged from the murky waters. She has no memories and no family and is covered in mysterious markings. Adopted by the policeman who rescued her, Luce Boudreau follows him onto the force, determined to prove herself in the eyes of those who are still suspicious.

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.

Welcome to The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar. I'm Sam Quinn, the werewolf book nerd in charge. I run my business by one simple rule: Everyone needs a good book and a stiff drink, be they vampire, wicche, demon, or fae. No wolves, though. Ever. I serve the supernatural community of San Francisco. We've been having some problems lately. Okay, I'm the one with the problems. The broken body of a female werewolf washed up on my doorstep. What makes sweat pool at the base of my spine, though, is realizing the scars she bears are identical to the ones I conceal.

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.

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.

My name is Cat McKenzie, and I’ve been a very bad girl…. No, not in the I-need-a-spanking way...pervert. Nope, my kind of bad got my partner killed on my first day of the job. And now I’m getting punished by being thrown in as human liaison to PIG—the Paranormal Investigative Group.

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.