Alpha of the Hellhound enforcers, Derek doesn't think he has time for a mate until the Paranormal Council of the city gives him one. Hollis is a smart, funny, vulnerable human, and his police commissioner uncle has designs to use Hollis's new mating for his own ends. He'll learn quickly not to mess with a hellhound's mate.

Rhett's inheritance of the gorgeous Victorian house was expected. What was not expected was: Two familiars; A house full of ghosts; Magic powers?!; A new boyfriend, maybe, possibly, please, and thank you. Now, if he could just figure out how to handle everything, life would be peachy.

Ash is technically a fire mage, but he can't do much. Turning his bedroom lights on and off without having to get out of bed isn't exactly awe inspiring, not when anyone with the right gadget could clap and do the same thing. Worse, sometimes he senses something bigger and brighter lurking under his skin, and it feels so familiar he knows it has to be his magic, but then he burps or sneezes, and the feeling passes. So it's probably just allergies . . . or gas. Yeah . . . Not exactly brimming with magical oomph. Not anymore. It sucks.

Master Ambrosius was created over a millennium ago and had come to terms with spending his life alone. He has his coven, his second, and a few close friends, but he continues to be haunted by the memory of his fated mate running from him in terror. That is, until the goddess sends him to Montana, and he discovers his body reacting to a sexy alpha with wide shoulders and dark eyes. Surely there’s some mistake though, right?

Me? In love with a fictional character? Of course not! So why was I coughing up flowers every time I thought about the fictional character from my favorite video game? Areth was a sexy, badass monster and utterly perfect, but none of that mattered because he wasn't real. If I really was in love with him, I was going die, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the hot guy next door totally gives off serial killer vibes. Why else would he know how long it takes to bleed out from a wound? Yeah, ok, so I asked, but it was research. Being an author definitely makes for some odd questions (someone had better clear my browser history when I die, that's all I'm saying). It's not like I'm stalking my hot neighbor or anything—there's nothing wrong with watching him out my window. Although I might have my own stalker (and not the cute harmless kind), which is kind of terrifying.

I've never been so scared in my life, but armed with a ski mask, a leather jacket, and a tennis racket, I'm ready to take on the flying demon . . . er, bat.

George Hunt can think of nothing he’d like more than to skip the high-society fundraiser where he has to guard a precocious seventeen-year-old girl and her judgmental therapist, but there’s no way out of it. If anything bad were to happen and he wasn’t there to stop it, he’d never forgive himself. So even though she’s grilling him about his dating life and the good doctor is psychoanalyzing him, he’s going to soldier on, because protecting his charges is what a knight does.

Atlas’s simple crush gets complicated when Gavin turns out to be more than human. Can Atlas protect him as he becomes part of the paranormal world?

How do I tell the guy I like that I’m not homeless, just a dumbass? Wren: Help! I accidentally got kidnapped by a hot rock star who thinks he’s doing the right thing by housing and feeding me. He thinks I’m homeless because my absent manager is the one who remembers petty details like my home address, and my broken phone is the one who knows the numbers of anyone who can prove I am who I say I am. What do I do? Bael: Help! My impulse control issues made me kidnap an adorable homeless guy who’s too proud to accept my help.

Weirdly, people don’t react overly well when you’re caught standing over the dead body of a murderer who’d walked free. It’s not that I thought my fellow homicide detective would rejoice when he saw what I’d done, but is a pat on the back too much to ask for? Maybe a gold star at the very least? The problem is that the person who caught me is Gabriel, the only person I care for and adore… and he’s prepared to look the other way if I leave homicide and promise to never kill again.

I've spent most of my life knowing that supernatural creatures exist but never really interacting with any, so my knowledge of them is limited. Still, who would've thought a demisexual incubus was a thing? Well apparently, not only is it a thing, but I have one who claims to be my soulmate—or viramore, as he calls it. And now he has it in his head that he's going to save me from my past.

This is what Brad gets for finally "sinking his teeth into a book," like his nerdy brother is always hounding him to. He definitely wasn't expecting the book to sink its teeth into him. With the newfound knowledge that he can get pregnant as an omega, Brad's urgency to get back to his world of touchdowns and keg stands is intensifying by the minute. Unfortunately, so is his attraction to Raul, the possessive alpha shifter who broods mysteriously and smells like sandalwood and something uniquely masculine.

Leander Mast didn’t ask to come to Rivenfield, and he definitely didn’t ask to be thrust into the middle of a neighborhood battle over an ancient tree, but as a Giwoggle—who goes wherever a witch might conjure him—he doesn’t have much choice in the matter. And Leander definitely doesn’t count on getting stuck. While Leander attempts to get home, struggling against the magic keeping him from stepping outside the town limits, he butts heads with Ben, his new grumpy neighbor. And it doesn’t help that Leander cut down Ben’s tree.

Chase is crazy busy behind the scenes at the fraternity get-together, so when an alumnus comes in, he just notes a hot man in his vicinity and goes right back to work. When Ronan gets hurt and Chase feeds him, Chase's reaction opens up a whole new world of possibilities. Ones that Ronan wants to explore. Is Chase compatible with vampires? Or could he possibly be something more?