I’ve never been attracted to guys. I definitely would never be attracted to a privileged, cocky bastard like Brad Henning. Even though I’ve only been at St. Lawrence University for a few weeks, this prick and his friends are on a mission to mess with me—a scholarship kid who I guess they don’t think belongs at a prestigious school intended for the nation’s elite.

Who are we? Nobody really knows. We’re seven powerful heirs to empires, ruling Manhattan from our thrones on Park Avenue. By day, we’re the elite, untouchable, and more connected than you could ever imagine. By night, we revel in the darkness of our secrets, pulling strings that make the city bow to our whims.

Ash is technically a fire mage, but he can't do much. Turning his bedroom lights on and off without having to get out of bed isn't exactly awe inspiring, not when anyone with the right gadget could clap and do the same thing. Worse, sometimes he senses something bigger and brighter lurking under his skin, and it feels so familiar he knows it has to be his magic, but then he burps or sneezes, and the feeling passes. So it's probably just allergies . . . or gas. Yeah . . . Not exactly brimming with magical oomph. Not anymore. It sucks.

Dancing is everything to me. It’s the mother I lost, the father who never sees me. It’s the fiery love of my life, and I’ll defend it to my last breath—that’s what it means to be the lead principal at one of the best ballet companies in the world. Just when I thought I was on top, my greatest rival—my eternal nemesis—waltzes back into my life: Nicoló Savini. The ache in my bones and the bane of my existence. If he thinks I’ll sit back and let him steal my spotlight, he’s sorely mistaken.

Sascha has always felt powerless, the weak baby of a cruel family. But that’s fine. He has his looks, his ample allowance, and a smattering of one-night stands to keep him busy. But when Sascha’s oldest brother offends the wrong people, Sascha finds himself in hiding with a target on his back. And when poking around in his temporary home leads to accidentally summoning the hottest demon Sascha could ever imagine, he has to ask himself: does he want to feel powerless anymore?

My life hasn't turned out the way I wanted it to. Because of one stupid stunt by a kid I used to care about, I'm now slinging cocktails in a Miami club instead of getting my degree. In a split second, Everest Hill ruined my future, and I'm too jaded to ever move past it. Only Elton—my best friend and his brother—connects us, but thankfully, Everest has made himself irrelevant in the last four years. Until now. When Elton heads off on a summer European adventure, I'm forced to babysit his little brother through his first semester in college, but I'd rather eat shattered glass.

Well, he loves the idea of his job. It’s just that the reality of marketing isn’t a creative joy, it’s a soul-crushing corporate rat race. His boss keeps taking credit for his work, and his coworkers couldn’t be less sympathetic if they tried.

Pixies are supposed to be petite, beautifully lithe creatures with gossamer wings. Sporting luscious, ombre pink hair and fluttering pink wings, Phil meets two out of three of those criteria. At over six feet tall, no one would dare call Phil petite. As a home-and-hearth pixie, Phil yearns to find a home and family he can bond to. When no one's willing to hire a pixie of his stature, Phil is forced to find work elsewhere. Turns out, pixies make terrible bouncers.

This is what Brad gets for finally "sinking his teeth into a book," like his nerdy brother is always hounding him to. He definitely wasn't expecting the book to sink its teeth into him. With the newfound knowledge that he can get pregnant as an omega, Brad's urgency to get back to his world of touchdowns and keg stands is intensifying by the minute. Unfortunately, so is his attraction to Raul, the possessive alpha shifter who broods mysteriously and smells like sandalwood and something uniquely masculine.

Dragons were dying. All over the world, a curse was taking us out one by one, and nobody knew how to stop it. I watched my mother burn, I watched my little brother fall sick. That's when Robby practically falls into my lap, with his big brown eyes and charming smile and his penchant for being hunted by vampires. After saving him twice from certain death, we soon come to realize that there's a reason he's being hunted. And that reason may be the answer to all our problems, and the start to a whole new set of them.

Lake Forrester III entered my life like a wrecking ball. Drake Security, my firm with my brothers, was hired to protect him from a stalker ex, but what Lake doesn’t know is that he’s not dealing with your average unhinged human. The unhinged wolf shifter he unknowingly dated will stop at nothing to get Lake in his clutches. Just another day in the life of a dragon body guard.

His new life in Chicago consists of performing autopsies and eating chips while watching old detective series. Until…He's suddenly standing in front of me. Leather jacket, washed-out jeans, jet black hair. His deep, green eyes are so intense on me I can barely breathe. It's in his crooked smile, bold flirting, and confident—borderline conceited—behavior that I get lost.

What happens when you fall and hit the webtoons trope tree? You get killed by Truck-kun, get transported to a fantasy world by a sentient Fae coin, and become the first gay holy maiden. Jake Alexander is Not Happy to be sure. Fortunately in Jake's case, part of the trope tree includes the gorgeous Duke of the North, Theon. And starting a business from scratch, which he's always wanted to do. And revitalizing his new country which is on the verge of collapse.

When ghostwriter Maz Amani inherits a house from an uncle he’s never heard of, he offers heartfelt thanks to the universe, packs up his car, his cat, and his skepticism about mysterious uncles leaving all their worldly goods to unknown nephews, and high-tails it to a small town halfway to the Oregon coast. Anything would be better than week after week of couch surfing his way around Portland. Even if the alleged house is a rundown shack ridden with termites, spiders, and—shudder—rats, he’ll deal. Because hey, he owns a house!

Being a hitman is the loneliest of jobs. We don't have many friends. Some don't even have family. Lovers? Try explaining to your boyfriend why there's blood on your shirt. Christmas is the worst time to be alone. This year, love is in the cards for me, all thanks to a letter I found in the street. It reads, "Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is revenge…"