Showing results by narrator "Alyse Gibbs" in All Categories

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.

A deadly assassin. A desperate witch. A past that won’t stay buried. I’m Amber DeLea—ambitious witch, potion mistress extraordinaire, and daughter to a woman slipping further away each day. My life is a constant battle, whether it’s cursed runes, treacherous coven politics, or dark forces closing in. But nothing haunts me more than my mother’s unravelling mind, and I’m running out of time to find a cure. The last thing I need is Bastion—the deadly griffin assassin who shattered my world—being ordered to protect me.

I’m Jinx. 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. When I’m hired to find a missing university student, I hope to find her propped up at a bar—yet my gut tells me there’s more to this case than a party girl gone wild.

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.

Jimmy Rain, vile alpha werewolf and power-hungry coward, thought he could attack my stronghold while I was distracted. Big mistake: knowing that Jess is safe, now I’m gunning for him. No more games. He’s about to learn why the sentient seat of power crowned me Queen of Werewolves. I’ll stop at nothing to destroy him ... permanently.

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.

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.

Someone paid the vampire king’s creepy son to turn me into one of the bitey undead. I’m not hanging about to find out who or why. The vampires want me to stay with them for one hundred years of indentured servitude but I have this thing about following orders so I ran from the streets of London to the wilds of Alaska. I have an eidetic memory and a can-do attitude. I can-do anything to get away from the vampire king. So when the Sheriff of Portlock, a hidden paranormal town, invites me to be his assistant, I say sure thing. It beats servitude hands down.

I thought going back to school would be fun. After all, we’re adults now–no angst-ridden teen dramas here–and we’re all law-enforcement recruits training to become State Troopers. Surely we’ll work together like professionals, right? Wrong. One of my fellow recruits has it in for me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I’d peed in his cereal or corrected his grammar in public, but I swear I’ve done nothing to deserve the daggers he’s throwing my way.

I’m Jinx. As a private investigator, being a walking, talking lie detector is a useful skill - but let’s face it, it’s not normal. When I’m hired to find a missing university student, I hope to find her propped up at a bar - yet my gut tells me there’s more to this case than a party girl gone wild. She’s also being tracked by the implacable and oh-so-sexy Inspector Stone. Stone and I team up, and he shoves me into a realm where magic is real – a place where there are vampires and werewolves, dragons and trolls.

I’m Lucy, a regular accountant turned alpha werewolf. A tryst with the wrong incubus ripped me from my ordinary life and sent me tumbling into a magical realm that 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 werewolves who resent that I still live and breathe while their old alpha doesn't. If I’m to survive in this dog-eat-dog realm, I’m going to have to win my new pack over–and fast.

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’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.

Being Queen of the British Werewolves means I’m not one to back down, especially when my friend Emory is facing trial on spurious charges. I stormed in, certain that my impassioned speech would help save the king of the dragon shifters – but darker forces prevailed.

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.

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.

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 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 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.

Someone keeps bludgeoning people in the Other realm to death. A couple of the murders were virtually in our back garden, so Emory has asked me to try and find the culprit. I’d feel better if I didn’t have Shirdal along with me, cracking jokes and on the verge of a deadly killing spree of his own. Plus, there’s the small matter of the missing multimillion-pound Eye of Ebrell that I still need to locate.