Sophie Feegle needs a break. Rent is due on her crappy apartment and she's halfway through her last loaf of bread. Sophie doesn't have big ambitions. She only wants a job that will keep her landlord off her back, enough extra cash for whiskey at the neighborhood bar and a bit of free time to hang out with the naughty old lady next door.

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.

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.

Daisy Carter knows she's not anyone special. She might be brave and resourceful. She might possess a touch more magic than your average low elf. But, when it comes down to it, she's just another delivery driver trying to make a living. Admittedly, life would be easier without her addiction to a dangerous drug called spider's silk—but she's got her reasons for that. Nobody's perfect. However, Daisy's world changes when she crosses paths with Hugo Pemberville, the celebrated high elf who's well known for being an accomplished treasure hunter. 

My name's Lyra Ridley, and I run headlong into supernatural danger for a living. I love my job protecting the streets of post-magic-revolution Las Vegas - where humans and supernaturals live side by side, or are at least having a stab at it. So when I get suspended and some jackass takes my city hostage? Yeah, there's going to be hell to pay.  

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.

I’m one placement away from becoming a fully fledged London detective. It’s bad enough that my last assignment before I qualify is with Supernatural Squad. But that’s nothing compared to what happens next. Brutally murdered by an unknown assailant, I wake up 12 hours later in the morgue - and I’m very much alive. I don’t know how or why it happened. I don’t know who killed me. All I know is that they might try again.

Cori Catastrophe. They call me that sometimes, and I hate to admit it, but it isn’t wrong. Things go weird around me. Electronics die, things break, and if something odd happens, I seem to find it. Finding another dead body just made me late to work. Nothing will stop me from getting my degree, getting a job, and getting away from this tiny town - though leaving my best friend will hurt more than anything else. Reality seems determined to make reaching my goals impossible.

"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.

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.

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.

I thought this would be a simple profiling case. Just another Jack the Ripper wannabe, prowling London’s streets, searching for easy kills. I was wrong. This killer is fae, and he’s as elusive as smoke on the wind. But I’m an FBI profiler, and it’s my job to track him down. It doesn’t matter that one of the main suspects - a lethally alluring fae - is trying to seduce me...or kill me, I’m not sure which. I won’t be stopped, not even when panic roils through the streets of London or when the police start to suspect me.

Life as Aileen knew it ended when she woke up in a morgue sporting a new set of fangs after a wild night out. Now, as a courier for the supernatural world, she balances figuring out this whole vampire thing with making enough to support her ice cream habit. When a job goes disastrously awry and ends with a body on the ground, Aileen finds herself in over her head as she draws the attention of a powerful creature intent on her death.

I was burned at the stake at 14...I was drowned in a lake when I was 24...at 27, I was stoned in a public square. I have died a hundred times in a hundred different ways, usually at the hands of the humans I've tried to save. But when a pregnant young woman finds her way into my tattoo shop with a demon on her tail, things go from bad to worse. Being a centuries-old witch isn't going to help me—nothing will. This time I might just die in a way that sticks...permanently.

Two things are impossible to walk away from: death and vintage clothing. Trust me. I've tried. Moving across the country and opening a costume shop was supposed to be my chance for a normal life. What I wanted was a fresh start, one where the biggest danger would be a carelessly wielded sewing needle. What I got was the ghost of a murdered reporter demanding justice, a power I can’t control, and a new goat-shifter BFF hell-bent on trouble.