Deputy US Marshal Cait Keane is a Witch with a Badge—and a Dragon for a partner. The Boston office tour will have to wait—her first day on the job in her new appointment is canceled to pursue a federal fugitive, a magical with a penchant for fire. She'll need her gun and her wand to take him down. What will her team think of having a magical on board? When a federal judge is killed, she discovers she's in the middle of a territorial battle between criminal organizations. The killer is a magical, or working with one, which makes Cait the perfect Marshal to take them down.

Scarlett Prynne is new in town, but that won't stop trouble from finding the young witch. It always does. Before her brother kicked her through a magical portal that eventually landed her in nowhere Tonopah, Nevada, he called her an agent of chaos. But let's be fair. Our Scarlett doesn't create problems. Her magic just attracts it in all shapes and furry sizes. Like her familiar, Runeclaw. The black cat's tongue is as sharp as his nails, and he has a snark that can cut through just about anything. This time though, trouble was already here.

Lorelei Clay isn’t like other people. She isn’t even like other supernaturals. Her specialties are the nightmares of the living, communication with the dead, and cooking bacon until it’s golden brown and perfectly crispy—no magic required.

In the past two years, I leveled up as a kick-ass urban druid and became the leader of the Fianna Warriors my ancestor Fionn mac Cumhaill needed me to be. The thing is—four months ago everything changed. The veil between realms came down. With dormant genes waking, the dominant races jockeying for their place in the hierarchy, and the world around us pulsing out of control with power, my position as the Fae Liaison of Toronto has gotten off to a chaotic start.

"Happily Ever After" wasn't supposed to come with a do-over option. But when my husband of 20 years packs up and heads for greener pastures, and my son heads away to college, that's exactly what my midlife becomes. A do-over. This time, though, I plan to do things differently. Age is just a number, after all, and at 40 I'm ready to carve my own path. Eager for a fresh start, I make a somewhat unorthodox decision and move to a tiny town in the Sierra foothills.