I'm a witch. Not a powerful witch, mind, but as Grandma liked to say, it's all in the kindness, not the power. Grandma is gone now, but her dream of having a witch shop lives with me. So, when the opportunity to run my own shop presents itself, I move across the country to take it, no questions asked.

Being a private investigator wasn’t supposed to be complicated. I expected cheating spouses and missing pets like BonBon, a kidnapped ‘pure-bred Schnoodle’ with a ruby-studded collar. What I didn’t expect was a desperate elf on my doorstep, begging for help to find her missing parents. Nor did I think that my search would drag me back into the magical world I’d tried so hard to leave behind.

Someone paid the vampire king’s creepy son to turn me into one of the bitey undead. I’m not hanging about to find out who or why. The vampires want me to stay with them for one hundred years of indentured servitude but I have this thing about following orders so I ran from the streets of London to the wilds of Alaska. I have an eidetic memory and a can-do attitude. I can-do anything to get away from the vampire king. So when the Sheriff of Portlock, a hidden paranormal town, invites me to be his assistant, I say sure thing. It beats servitude hands down.

Let's get one thing straight - Ivy Wilde is not a heroine. In fact she's probably the last witch in the world you'd call if you needed a magical helping hand, regardless of her actual abilities. If it were down to Ivy, she'd spend all day every day on her sofa, where she could watch TV, munch junk food, and talk to her feline familiar to her heart's content. However, when a bureaucratic disaster ends up with Ivy as the victim of a case of mistaken identity, she's yanked very unwillingly into Arcane Branch.

All my life Id been nothing more than the alphas daughter. After twenty-two years of that existence, I finally leave my pack, intent to figure out who I am. Except a week into my newfound freedom, I discover that dragon shifters exist. Not only that, but the first one I stumble upon turns out to be my mate. One I don't want and never asked for. Its not like Cillian is bad on the eyes or that I'm repulsed by his grumpy demeanor. In fact, everything about him is rather appealing. He just wasn't part of the plan.