Clare MacBride has her life in exactly the order she wants it. In a year, she’ll have finished her geology dissertation, though she’s no closer to figuring out the answer to one question that plagues her: Why does she feel stones pulse with energy? A centuries-old curse, a mysterious faction of protectors, and a mythological godstone all sound like Old World fairy tale nonsense to Clare. It only takes one rainy evening with a silver-eyed fae and a handsome stranger promising protection to rock her world forever.

The knight was supposed to be a man. Not me, Sophie MacKnight, a marketing associate from California. This must be a practical joke that the Scots play on visiting Americans. Because otherwise I’ve inherited a haunted castle in Scotland, along with one irritatingly sexy Scotsman, who would be delighted if I turned tail and ran. Frankly, I thought I would fly here, sell the heap of bricks, and head back home to a life that I…well, I was comfortable with at the very least. Instead, the people of Loren Brae are in trouble, and it appears that as the new owner of the castle.

Perpetually cheerful Gwenith Donovan is pleased with life. She owns a hobby store she loves, carries on daily arguments with her chubby cat Macgregor, and maintains a meticulous comic-book collection that makes her geeky heart sing. With no need or interest in romance to muck up her happy routine, Gwen is content to spend her days managing her shop and her evenings over a pint with friends in the village pub.

An ancient book, a power untouched, and a heart unloved lead Keelin O'Brien from her graduate studies in Boston, to a small village on the coast of Southern Ireland. Determined to unearth the secrets lying hidden in the enchanted waters of the cove, Keelin has little time for a surly Irishman who infuriates her during the day and who haunts her fantasies at night. Inexplicably drawn to the woman who has stepped out from his dreams and into his world, Flynn fights a stubborn battle against his increasing attraction for Keelin. But forces unknown have better plans for the two.

Tequila Key is just like any other small town, and I'm just like any other small town psychic. Scratch that. Tequila Key is a world onto itself and some people might think that I am one crayon short of the box. And, if we're being totally honest, Tequila Key is just like any other small town - if that town boasts a voodoo priestess and a few white witches for flavor. Turquoise blue water and the best margaritas this side of Mexico make it hard to leave.