Phex is a barista on a forgotten moon. Which is fine – he likes being ignored and he’s good at making drinks. Until one day an alien hears him singing and recruits him to become a god. Now Phex is thrust headfirst into the galaxy’s most cutthroat entertainment industry, where music is visible, the price of fame can kill, and the only friends he has want to be worshiped.

Welcome to Wheel: a perfect world without poverty, disease, or want. Tinkered and tuned in every way for maximum order by Rank and Spoke, every child knows her destiny - so long as she can take the neural implant. The defective, whose bodies reject the implants, do not exist. Ghosts. Cyphers. Haunting the edges of society, living on scraps, killed for sport. A lucky few, the Crudrats, scrape out a perilous living cleaning the toxic wastes from the great machines that power the station.

Alex, marine biologist and werewolf, has seen better days. Unexpectedly alive, secretly gay, and haunted by a meddlesome, matchmaking ghost, he must now team up with very flirty mermen to save the city from sushi smugglers.

A species that has no word for murder, has a murderer aboard their spaceship. Alien. Tristol lives in exile. But he’s built a life for himself aboard a human space station. He’s even begun to understand the complex nuances of human courting rituals. Detective Hastion is finally flirting back! Murder. Except that Tristol’s beloved space station is unexpectedly contacted by the galoi - a xenophobic species with five genders, purple skin, and serious attitude. They need the help of a human detective because there’s a murderer aboard their spaceship.

When Prudence Alessandra Maccon Akeldama ("Rue" to her friends) is bequeathed an unexpected dirigible, she does what any sensible female under similar circumstances would do: she christens it the Spotted Custard and floats off to India. Soon she stumbles upon a plot involving local dissidents, a kidnapped brigadier's wife, and some awfully familiar Scottish werewolves.

Fourteen-year old Sophronia is the bane of her mother's existence. More interested in dismantling clocks and climbing trees than proper etiquette at tea - and god forbid anyone see her atrocious curtsy - Mrs. Temminnick is desperate her daughter become a proper lady. She enrolls Sophronia in Mademoiselle Geraldine's Finishing Academy for Young Ladies of Quality.

But little do Sophronia or her mother know that this is a school where ingenious young girls learn to finish all right - but it's a different kind of finishing.

At least that's what I tell myself when I witness the same hot guy commit mass murder three times in a few days. I'm either the luckiest mute boy ever or possibly the unluckiest. Who knows, maybe him kidnapping me will turn into the greatest love story ever told? Hey, it could happen! You never know how these things will turn out. I happen to believe in love and soulmates, and if nothing else, Arlington Fox doesn't treat my disability like a nuisance.

SSA Rain Christiansen used to be the agency's golden boy. It just takes one moment of weakness, one tiny paranormal sighting, and all of a sudden, he's the agency's embarrassment. His boss gives him one last chance to redeem himself - go down to Brickell Bay, play nice with the local police, and leave the ghost sightings behind. Rain is determined to do exactly that, even if it kills him. Cold-case Detective Daniel McKenna's latest investigation is going nowhere fast. Daniel is glad to finally have the FBI help his department requested, even if it does come in the form of his ex.

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.

My name is Jean Moreau. My place is at Evermore. I belong to the Moriyamas. It is a truth Jean has built his life around, a reminder this is the best he can hope for and all he deserves. But when he is stolen from Edgar Allan University and sold to a more dangerous master, Jean is forced to contend with a life outside of the Nest for the first time in five years. The Foxes call his transfer to California a fresh start; Jean knows it is little more than a golden cage.

Garrick Von Stein is the most frustrating person I’ve ever met, and yet, as soon as he calls me for help, I jump right in. Every single time. Why? I have no idea. I mean, I really do like to look at the dragon shifter king, but that doesn’t explain this strange pull, this need, I feel to be near him.

Nicholas “Coal” Claus used to love Christmas. Until his father, the reigning Santa, turned the holiday into a PR façade. Coal will do anything to escape the spectacle, including getting tangled in a drunken, supremely hot make-out session with a beautiful man behind a seedy bar one night. But the heir to Christmas is soon commanded to do his duty: he will marry his best friend, Iris, the Easter Princess and his brother’s not-so-secret crush. A situation that has disaster written all over it. Things go from bad to worse when a rival arrives to challenge Coal for the princess’s hand.

When the deadly werewolf Asil is gifted five blind dates by some anonymous “friends,” his reclusive life will never be the same, in this enthralling novel in stories from the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Mercy Thompson series.

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.

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.