R'jaal has waited many turns of the seasons for his khui to resonate, only to be disappointed time and time again. But when he is taken captive by strange beings hiding in the very tunnels of the fruit caves, he wakes up to find himself in a strange underground cage. Also in the cage? A very pretty unfamiliar human female. She says her name is Rosalind. She makes his khui sing. It's finally his time. There's a big problem, though—Rosalind has no khui of her own. And if she doesn't get one soon, she could die.

I accidentally launched an escape pod on my miserable honeymoon—with me on it—and crash-landed in the middle of an alien jungle on a forbidden "emerging civilization" planet, breaking about a hundred Cosmic Syndicate laws. Oh, and I robbed a hot lizard guy with sexy black eyes, the most colorful scales I've ever seen, and a powerful prehensile tail that curls up like a cinnamon roll. Even though I can't understand anything he's saying, my new reptilian friend turns out to be as sweet as honey and spicier than the seasoning he used on the meat I stole from his camp.

Sylas is the planet’s most ruthless fighter, unmatched in the arena and feared by all who come up against him. Until he meets me. The abducted human forced into servitude and far from home. He growls ‘mine’ and I am claimed by a seven-foot wall of scars and sinew. There is more to Sylas than his chiselled good looks and proficiency with a sword. My proud gladiator is broken in more ways than I thought possible. And he won’t stop until I belong to him entirely, even if it means breaking his bonds with the arena.

Being kidnapped by aliens is one thing. Being kidnapped by aliens and sent to a prison planet is something infinitely worse. Here in Haven’s prison system, I’m stranded among strangers, enemies, and the most ruthless criminals in the galaxy. There’s no safety for a human woman here, especially not one branded as a murderer. I’m doomed to a fate worse than death. Then, he decides I should be his. His name’s Jutari. He’s seven feet tall, blue, and horned.

When my sister is chosen for the Monster Mate Hunt—an annual event where two women must sacrifice themselves to the orcs for the good of us all—I volunteer in her place. The orcs hunt me as I bolt through the forest. I'm captured by the gruff, growly Commander Jaus, who expects me to cook and clean, plus sleep in his quarters with him at night, despite insisting he doesn't want a mate. Then something changes, and his dark, brooding gaze turns my way . . .

Abducted off the space station where I teach the standard galactic language, I'm imprisoned with two other women in a cold, dirty cell on an alien ship. We're destined for something worse than death until a fierce, blue-haired alien male rescues us. We recover on his ship with his group of Heveian pirates. There, the attraction that formed when he first carried me in his arms grows into a force neither of us can deny. But something else has taken up residence on the ship. Something that will stop at nothing to destroy us all.

My name is Alice, and I live in the Bugpocalypse. I survived my first post-apocalyptic winter, and spring is here. That’s bad news! With warm weather comes the endless swarms of deadly bugs. I need to forage for food, but there’s just one little problem. Okay, so “little” isn’t the best word to describe the fierce Xarc’n warrior who is obsessed with me. Kaj’k is freakin’ huge! And his sharp claws, pointy fangs, and massive horns are scary. I reject his gift of food and flowers, but my massively muscled alien hunter doesn’t get the hint.

As a prisoner in the arena, my greatest battle won't be for my life. It'll be for the heart of a woman. As a prisoner in the arena, my greatest battle won't be for my life. It'll be for the heart of a woman. Once I scented the human, she was mine. Every part of me hungered for her. To touch. To taste. To take. But she belongs to my enemy. Claiming her will cost me. I may sacrifice everything. My revenge. My life. My very soul.

Jorok saved my life after being trapped in a filthy cell. He's gorgeous and way too serious for his own good. To get to know him better, I tag along on an errand, but we're kidnapped and forced to nurse an alien captain's sick crew. To avoid being sold, I pretend to be Jorok's mate (which isn't difficult). I thought things couldn't get worse from there. I was wrong.

The blue alien warrior pacing in his cage terrifies me. His long dark hair is wild and messy, and his scarred body looks made for murder. I deliver food to him every day, and I'm sure by the way he stares at me that he'd rather eat me. Yet there's something about him that captivates me, and I can't stop watching him. When he lets the snarling, fearsome mask slip, I start to see there's a cool calculation to his actions. I would be risking everything to help him escape, but do I dare let this monster free from his cage?

All Mercy had to do was deliver her cargo and go. Now she’s got a bunch of irate aliens on her tail, and a hot-as-Helios escaped prisoner in her cargo bay who insists she is his. She’s too old for this, and she keeps telling herself she’s too old for him. But his arguments and assets are very convincing.

I'm the next in line for Fyrifirar Tribe Jarl, a skilled warrior, and definitely not good at chopping down trees. But I can't stop thinking about the tiny human female who we'd found near our village with eleven other human females. She's so small, barely larger than an orkin child, and so lovely I can't get her out of my mind. And then I went and nearly killed her while felling a tree to distract myself. Yet somehow, she still ended up in my arms.

At the frat party I see a bright light and find myself sitting on a bed with a huge monster looming over me. I'm terrified and, at the same time, there's something about those black eyes, that scent, that purrr that makes me come alive. Horde life is simple. When I find an Omega during a raid, I should deliver her to the compound. If I don't, I'll lose my life, the lives of my horde alphas, and I'll start a full-scale rebellion. And yet, I can't part from her. This one belongs to me.

Especially a matchmaker who works at the kind of paranormal bathhouse that would have grandmothers clutching their pearls. A worse look is a matchmaker experiencing a crisis of confidence. I am that matchmaker.

They say fire rained from the sky for seven days signaling the arrival of the monsters. They say humanity fought hard to beat them. They say the celestials saved us. They say a lot of things. Me? I deal in the present. In scouting for useful things and keeping my team alive outside the protective walls of our base. I might not have a fancy monster-killing blade like the Sweepers do, but I've avoided getting my face eaten off so far, so I call that a win. But when my base is taken by monsters, my scout skills are the only thing standing between imminent demise and survival.