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.

Corrigan wasn't always the Lord Alpha of the Brethren. And he wasn't always in love with Mackenzie Smith, an alleged werehamster with anger management problems. But he has always been a powerful shapeshifter who faces trouble head-on, no matter what shifter politics or supernatural machinations get in his way. Now his world isn't just filled with magic and mayhem. There's also a considerable amount of fire.

There are three absolutes in Mairi Wallace's world: 1. The Mages rule every city in Scotland with terrible, violent authority. 2. It is not physically possible for any woman to wield magic. 3. Mairi does not have a voice. She is about to learn that none of these things have to be true. From twisted wynds and tartan shops to a dangerous daemon and malevolent ravens, the future of a tattered nation might lie with one solitary woman.

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.

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.

It's one thing to wake up outside in the middle of the night with a decapitated man for company. It's another to have no memory of how you got there—or who you are. She might not know her own name but she knows that several people are out to get her. It could be because she has strange magical powers seemingly at her fingertips and is some kind of fabulous hero. But then why does she appear to inspire fear in so many? And who on earth is the sexy, green-eyed barman who apparently despises her? So many questions . . . and so few answers.

Bo Blackman is forced to live with her newfound status as a celebrity. She's still determined, however, to solve the mystery of Tobias Renfrew, the daemon billionaire who disappeared over fifty years ago.

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.

"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.

In 1876, we were called to Savannah, Georgia to help with an infestation of demons. If we'd known what we, my wife Evangeline, and I, were walking into, we'd have run the other way. As it was, we shared tea with a vampire and stepped into a battle we did not understand until it was too late.

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.

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.

Few people know the name Vesper Quill. To most folks, I’m just a lowly lab rat who designs brewmakers and other household appliances in the research-and-development lab at the powerful Kent Corp. But when I point out a design flaw and a safety hazard in the new line of Kent Corp spaceships, everyone knows who I am—and wants to eliminate me. I might be a seer with a photographic memory, but I don’t see the trouble headed my way until it’s too late. Suddenly, I’m surrounded by enemies and fighting for my life.

What do jazz pixies, siren celebrities, and 300 disastrous dates with supernatural men have in common? Me. I’m Cerys. And at 22 years old, running a paranormal dating agency with my bestie and living in the magical society of Nepos is an amazing life. Not gonna lie, though - it’d be better with a little action. When my "extinct" brand of magic explodes in the presence of true love, the off-the-charts sexy but infuriatingly bored Detective Devereaux gets involved. And let me tell you, ladies, there are m-u-s-c-l-e-s under his long coat!