Showing results by author "Heather G. Harris" in All Categories

I’m Lucy. Your average accountant turned alpha werewolf. An affair with the wrong succubus sent me tumbling into a magical realm I'd never even dreamed existed. I was just adjusting to pack life when I was asked to mercy kill the current alpha. I'm not a total bitch, so I did what he asked, but it's left me as alpha of a pack I don't know, full of people who resent that I still live and breathe while the old alpha doesn't.

All I want is a perfect Christmas with great food, amazing friends and the love of my life by my side. The tree is decorated, the feast (cooked by a hearth witch!) is ready, and Connor’s home is buzzing with festive cheer. This year I can feel it: Christmas magic is within my reach.

When I’m arrested for killing a member of the Coven Council, I’m pretty sure we’ll get things straightened out quickly–after all, my victim was a black witch, and she was trying to kill me too. Like most things in my competitive life, I just got there first.

Curses are falling on this town like rain in London. Just when I think I’ve found a link between the hexed victims, someone else shows up who’s been jinxed. It feels like the devil is playing darts with my paranormal town and if the dart hits you, you get whammed with a curse. To be honest, I haven’t a clue how to find the perpetrator. My sole lead is pointing at the travelling black market that has just arrived in Portlock. That would be all fine and dandy — if I could find it. Weirdly, no one is willing to direct the cops to a highly illegal market.

I thought I was finally getting the hang of being a paranormal policewoman, but when one of the gemstones powering the barrier around the town is stolen, I’m as terrified as the average Joe. Of course, there’s nothing average about the Joes in this town. It’s chock full of mythical creatures, and some of them think the barrier is a waste of time. Well, I’ve seen the cryptid monster beyond and I know we’re doomed if the magical palisade ever fails. Calling what would follow a massacre would be a gross understatement.

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.

Being a private investigator wasn’t supposed to be complicated. I expected cheating spouses and missing pets like BonBon, a kidnapped ‘pure-bred Schnoodle’ with a ruby-studded collar. What I didn’t expect was a desperate elf on my doorstep, begging for help to find her missing parents. Nor did I think that my search would drag me back into the magical world I’d tried so hard to leave behind.

I am seizing the patriarchy by the balls, and I’m going to give it a vasectomy. I may have been crowned Queen, but it rapidly becomes clear that the title doesn’t come with an iota of respect: in fact, it’s a death sentence. My enemies have handed me a crown and now they’re sitting back to see how long I can keep it. Challenges will be coming thick and fast, and I need to be prepared. Luckily, Esme was born ready and I’m a fast learner.

I thought tracking down an Eternal Flame would be the hardest part of this trip. Turns out, I was wrong. Between a hidden magical village, a smug lake monster, and a high priestess who may or may not hold the key to fixing my mistakes, I’m starting to think I should have stayed in bed. But I don’t have that luxury. My magic is growing stronger by the day, but it’s volatile, and if I don’t get a grip, I won’t just lose control—I’ll lose everything.

When a body is found pulverised beyond recognition, I’m called to investigate. As Chester’s only magical Detective Inspector, it’s my job to handle the cases the Common police can’t. This one has all the hallmarks of the Other Realm—especially when I find a talking bird caged at the scene.

I’ve been working on a potion that could change everything. Unfortunately, some people are allergic to change. A price has been put on my head – and the sharks are coming for me. Vampires, Ogres and black witches are all gunning for me, and they want me dead, by any means necessary. The Coven Council, in their infinite wisdom, assign me my very own griffin bodyguard. And of course, the one they assign is none other than my most hated enemy, Bastion.

PI by day, reluctant witch by necessity—Beatrix has a case to crack and a legacy to reclaim. I walked away from my magic, my past, and the home I was born to protect. For the last decade, I’ve been scraping by as a PI in the non-magical world, solving human problems and ignoring the legacy that should have been mine. My magic is barely worth mentioning—unless you count my ability to sense emotions, which is frequently about as useful as a chocolate teapot.

Betrayed, alone, and furious, I have plenty of time to plot my revenge. They’re not even going to see me coming. Whoever said revenge is a dish best served cold didn’t know a damned thing. Revenge is hot and fiery and I’m going to rain hell on the ones responsible for tearing me away from Emory on our wedding day. A daemon is stalking the Other Realm, and enough is enough. It’s time to bring him down to the depths of hell where he belongs. Hell hath no fury like a women scorned.

I’m Lucy, alpha werewolf of a pack that hates me. I inherited the pack when I mercy-killed the current alpha at his behest. I did the right thing, but it’s left me head of a werewolf pack who resent that I still live and breathe while their old alpha doesn't.

Welcome to Portlock: where the dead don’t always stay that way. When a human inspector drops dead in the Chrome Mine, things get messy fast. The dwarves are up in arms, swearing the mine is cursed, and when a second body turns up—this time without its head—all fingers point to the local hag. But I’ve met Matilda. She’s terrifying, sure, but she doesn’t seem like the elaborate crime scene type. More of a ‘crush you under a landslide’ kind of gal. Still, with the dwarves baying for blood and a murderer on the loose, I need answers before this case spirals out of control.

I hate finding corpses. For some reason, my enemies think dead bodies work as a communication method. Call me old fashioned, but I prefer a letter. When I find a pulverized gargoyle on my lawn, I can’t help but think things are about to get rocky. The gargoyles don’t expect me to look into the death, but who can ignore murder on their doorstep.

As a private investigator, being a walking talking lie detector is a useful skill but let's face it, it’s not normal. You'd think it would make my job way too easy, but even with my weird skills, I still haven't been able to track down my parent's killers.

Ok, so not much sex is going on. The closest I’ve gotten to some action is a date with Stan which ended in disaster. But with all the eye-candy walking around this small town, including the sexy vampire leader, Connor, I’m definitely re-thinking my ‘no dating’ rule. I don’t get the chance to do much about it though because some ruffians think it’s funny to break into the Grimes’ moonshine shop.

I’m supposed to be meeting with Emory’s dragon court and amazing them with my suave wit and shining intellect. Instead, I’m on the trail of a kidnapper. Someone has stolen away a centaur teenager, Alfie, from a magical circus. The circus master has hired me and Gato to find out who took him–hopefully before Alfie swims with the fishes.

I made a potion to fix my mum’s broken mind but only time will tell if it will succeed – or if it will fail like all my previous attempts. As her condition worsens, I’m doing everything I can to save her, but when there’s an attack at the Other circus my priorities have to shift. The circus is the Other realm’s equivalent to a witness-protection programme, and I’ve hidden two of my witches there. When one of them is nearly killed, I realise there is a mole in my coven. I need to find out who the traitor is before it’s too late.