You'd think that basically being in charge of love would be an epic job, right? Wrong. Sure, I can blow some Lust into people's faces and watch the show, but I can't actually participate. It gets old, trust me. Same goes for love. I can pass it out like sugar-free lollipops at a dentist's office, but I can't get any love for myself. It totally sucks. I used to consider myself a hopeless romantic, so why wouldn't I choose to become a cupid? Sounds like a good idea, right? Wrong again. They don't call us stupid cupids for nothing.

Here’s what I know. Being a cupid is hard work. Love Matches, Lust Breath, Flirt Touches, not to mention having to meet my quotas every month. And hitting your target with arrows? That shit is not easy. But all of that I could handle. Gladly. If only my cupid powers would actually work. The clock is ticking, but I have the perfect candidate to start with. Warren Knight. Smart, hot as hell, rich, bachelor-dud extraordinaire. Of course, the asshole doesn’t want to fall in love, so I have my work cut out for me.

I live with a pack of misfit shifters. We aren't going to be winning any popularity contests, but our hodgepodge bunch is more loyal than even the strongest pred packs. I should know. I grew up in one of them. As soon as they realized I was different, I was despised, even by my own family. So I left, joined Pack Aberrant, and I've steered clear of alpha pred assholes ever since. Until my heatwave hits, and I accidentally jump three coyote shifters in a parking lot. Whoopsie.

King Midas rescued me. Dug me out of the slums and placed me on a pedestal. I'm called his precious. His favored. I'm the woman he Gold-Touched to show everyone that I belong to him. To show how powerful he is. He gave me protection, and I gave him my heart. And even though I don't leave the confines of the palace, I'm safe. Until war comes to the kingdom and a deal is struck.

It’s never a good combo to be broke and desperate. You do stupid things. Like accidentally sign your soul over to hell. When I interviewed for a new security job, I didn’t bat an eye that it was for a literal graveyard shift...headstones and all. I mean, at the hourly rate they were offering, who cares? I got this. Turns out, I’m not guarding a graveyard like I thought. It seems I’ve just walked my broke ass into protecting a gate to hell. Yeah...I don’t got this.

The vampire prince has never claimed a human. Until now. My whole life I’ve been nothing but a means to an end; livestock kept caged for the production of blood. I’ve stared through fences at the promise of freedom countless times, but the only way anyone escapes this hell is in the hands of a bloodsucker.

I'm not so different from most people. Like everyone else, I have life goals. Goal #1: Become a real girl instead of this invisible ghost thing I currently am. Goal #2: Convince the four men I've been haunting for the past five years to pick me to be their new toy after goal one is complete. Goal #3: Figure out who/what I am and why I can't remember anything past the five years I've been haunting this quad. Goal #4: Eat popcorn. See? Perfectly normal. Sort of. Gotta start small, after all. It's not like anyone else is perfect either.

After the death of my mother and her Bonded, I was relieved to find my own Bonds. I was sure everything would be okay if I had them. It wasn’t. The fate of our people is in my hands, and I know we’re better off if I’m alone. After five years on the run, I’m caught and dragged back to face the men I ran away from. I thought I was doing the right thing. Now, I’m not so sure.

My name is Vinna, and I've been keeping a lot of secrets. You would too if you'd experienced some of the weird shit I have: red-eyed monsters chasing me, markings on my body appearing out of nowhere, a strange power that crackles colorfully over my skin from time to time, and don't get me started on the weapons I can conjure up almost out of nowhere.

I'm not all that special, really. I'm sure there are a lot of girls with old gypsy blood who see the dead, have killer cults hunting their family, and turn into something that gets scary when they panic. Yep. I'm just an ordinary girl. I wish people would believe that. I've been labeled as one thing or another for most of my life: Death Girl. Crazy Gypsy Girl. Gothic Chick. Monster. It took my mother's death for me to finally start getting answers about what's really been going on. Unfortunately, most of the answers come from men...who aren't just men.

I don’t believe in fate, but I do know this…the King who killed my brother is a dead man walking. And I’m prepared to sacrifice my heart, body and soul to ensure I get my revenge.

Bryce Quinlan had the perfect life-working hard all day and partying all night - until a demon murdered her closest friends, leaving her bereft, wounded, and alone. When the accused is behind bars but the crimes start up again, Bryce finds herself at the heart of the investigation. She'll do whatever it takes to avenge their deaths. Hunt Athalar is a notorious Fallen angel, now enslaved to the Archangels he once attempted to overthrow. His brutal skills and incredible strength have been set to one purpose - to assassinate his boss' enemies, no questions asked.

There were six of us. Caged, turned into monsters, and tormented with brutal tests of our horrific emerging abilities. We had only each other to count on...until our escape attempt ended with one dead, the others recaptured, and me dragged away into a different nightmare.

It’s not easy making the career jump from office-supplies-store middle manager to heroic interdimensional adventurer. At least, Jason tries to be heroic, but it's hard to be good when all your powers are evil. He’ll face off against cannibals, cultists, wizards, monsters...and that’s just on the first day. He’s going to need courage, he’s going to need wit, and he’s going to need some magic powers of his own. But first, he’s going to need pants.

We were fighting on the wrong side of a war we couldn't win. And that was the good news. The Ruhar hit us on Columbus Day. There we were, innocently drifting along the cosmos on our little blue marble, like the native Americans in 1492. Over the horizon come ships of a technologically advanced, aggressive culture, and BAM! There go the good old days, when humans only got killed by each other. So, Columbus Day. It fits. When the morning sky twinkled again, this time with Kristang starships jumping in to hammer the Ruhar, we thought we were saved.

You'd think that basically being in charge of love would be an epic job, right? Wrong. Sure, I can blow some Lust into people's faces and watch the show, but I can't actually participate. It gets old, trust me. Same goes for love. I can pass it out like sugar-free lollipops at a dentist's office, but I can't get any love for myself. It totally sucks. I used to consider myself a hopeless romantic, so why wouldn't I choose to become a cupid? Sounds like a good idea, right? Wrong again. They don't call us stupid cupids for nothing.

Here’s what I know. Being a cupid is hard work. Love Matches, Lust Breath, Flirt Touches, not to mention having to meet my quotas every month. And hitting your target with arrows? That shit is not easy. But all of that I could handle. Gladly. If only my cupid powers would actually work. The clock is ticking, but I have the perfect candidate to start with. Warren Knight. Smart, hot as hell, rich, bachelor-dud extraordinaire. Of course, the asshole doesn’t want to fall in love, so I have my work cut out for me.

I live with a pack of misfit shifters. We aren't going to be winning any popularity contests, but our hodgepodge bunch is more loyal than even the strongest pred packs. I should know. I grew up in one of them. As soon as they realized I was different, I was despised, even by my own family. So I left, joined Pack Aberrant, and I've steered clear of alpha pred assholes ever since. Until my heatwave hits, and I accidentally jump three coyote shifters in a parking lot. Whoopsie.

What does a fallen angel, a vampire, and a sexy bodyguard have in common? They’re the carriers of the seven deadly sins - and it’s my job to conquer them. I don’t take shit from anybody, and that’s what has gotten me through life so far. My mother’s dead. My brother struck a deal with the Incubus King that gets me in all sorts of trouble, and my dreams are plagued by a black fog of death that’s determined to hunt me down. Seems like destiny has finally caught up with me, and she’s a bitch.

I'm not so different from most people. Like everyone else, I have life goals. Goal #1: Become a real girl instead of this invisible ghost thing I currently am. Goal #2: Convince the four men I've been haunting for the past five years to pick me to be their new toy after goal one is complete. Goal #3: Figure out who/what I am and why I can't remember anything past the five years I've been haunting this quad. Goal #4: Eat popcorn. See? Perfectly normal. Sort of. Gotta start small, after all. It's not like anyone else is perfect either.

I'm hanging by a thread, with the fate of my sisters in my hands. As a late-blooming Omega in a poor neighbourhood drowning in crime, I'm desperate to hide my designation secret. I do the only thing I can and approach the three craziest alphas I can find, the only ones I would entrust my body, my family, and my life to. I take the biggest leap of faith. It's all or nothing.

It’s never a good combo to be broke and desperate. You do stupid things. Like accidentally sign your soul over to hell. When I interviewed for a new security job, I didn’t bat an eye that it was for a literal graveyard shift...headstones and all. I mean, at the hourly rate they were offering, who cares? I got this. Turns out, I’m not guarding a graveyard like I thought. It seems I’ve just walked my broke ass into protecting a gate to hell. Yeah...I don’t got this.

I'm not all that special, really. I'm sure there are a lot of girls with old gypsy blood who see the dead, have killer cults hunting their family, and turn into something that gets scary when they panic. Yep. I'm just an ordinary girl. I wish people would believe that. I've been labeled as one thing or another for most of my life: Death Girl. Crazy Gypsy Girl. Gothic Chick. Monster. It took my mother's death for me to finally start getting answers about what's really been going on. Unfortunately, most of the answers come from men...who aren't just men.

I did a bad, bad thing. Thanks to a blank in my memory, I'm not sure what that thing was, but it was horrible enough to get me locked up in the psych ward for seven years.

We've all heard the story of the Four Horsemen. Harbingers of the apocalypse. Destruction given form. Four of the sexiest-wait no-forget that. You get my point. So imagine my surprise when I find out everything I've ever been told, is a lie....

Um. Um. Um. Are you reading this? If you are, I need your help. I was at a party; I was running; I fell. And get this - this is the part you'll never believe - I fell down a rabbit hole. Like Alice in those old books. Except in those books, there wasn't blood everywhere. In those books, the characters weren't all male, attractive, and interested in me.

What if Red Riding Hood didn't fall in love with one Big Bad Wolf, but three? I've been a city girl my entire life. But when my grandmother got sick, I didn't think twice before packing my bags and moving to Crimson Hollow, a small town in West Virginia. Two years later, I'm still here and finally adjusting to the quiet life. Only there's nothing ordinary about this town. A walk in the woods proved almost deadly and left me changed forever. I was attacked by a rogue wolf, and now, I belong to the Crimson Hollow pack. I'm a shifter.

King Midas rescued me. Dug me out of the slums and placed me on a pedestal. I'm called his precious. His favored. I'm the woman he Gold-Touched to show everyone that I belong to him. To show how powerful he is. He gave me protection, and I gave him my heart. And even though I don't leave the confines of the palace, I'm safe. Until war comes to the kingdom and a deal is struck.

The night my sister died, a piece of me died with her. So I made a vow to enroll at Spine Ridge University just like her, find the person responsible… and make them pay. Until I meet three sick boys of the Skull & Serpent Society: Felix, Dylan, Alistair. Rude, heartless, vicious guys who are obsessed with making me regret I ever stepped foot on campus. They make me a deal: My body in exchange for a glimpse at their violence.

After losing both their parents, Bristol Keats and her sisters struggle to stay afloat in their small, quiet town of Bowskeep. When Bristol begins to receive letters from an “aunt” she’s never heard of who promises she can help, she reluctantly agrees to meet—and discovers that everything she thought she knew about her family is a lie. Even her father might still be alive, not killed but kidnapped by terrifying creatures to a whole other realm—the one he is from.