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.

When a body is found pulverised beyond recognition, I’m called to investigate. As Chester’s only magical Detective Inspector, it’s my job to handle the cases the Common police can’t. This one has all the hallmarks of the Other Realm—especially when I find a talking bird caged at the scene.

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.

The fact that she’s a werecat is just something she’s had to live with Alone in her territory, she’s lived a secretive life for six years: under the radar, avoiding her past and the baggage that comes with it. Trouble finds Jacky, though, in the form of an 11-year-old girl and a werewolf turf war just outside her borders. Forced to honor an ancient treaty and the Laws of the supernatural world, Jacky swears an oath to protect Carey Everson, the human daughter of a local werewolf Alpha from Dallas.

I’m Lucy, alpha werewolf of a pack that hates me. I inherited the pack when I mercy-killed the current alpha at his behest. I did the right thing, but it’s left me head of a werewolf pack who resent that I still live and breathe while their old alpha doesn't.

A deadly assassin. A desperate witch. A past that won’t stay buried. I’m Amber DeLea—ambitious witch, potion mistress extraordinaire, and daughter to a woman slipping further away each day. My life is a constant battle, whether it’s cursed runes, treacherous coven politics, or dark forces closing in. But nothing haunts me more than my mother’s unravelling mind, and I’m running out of time to find a cure. The last thing I need is Bastion—the deadly griffin assassin who shattered my world—being ordered to protect me.

I'm Arwyn Cassandra Corey, the sea wicche, or the wicche who lives by the sea. It requires a lot more work than I'd anticipated to remodel an abandoned cannery and turn it into an art gallery & tea bar. It's coming along, though, especially with the help of a new werewolf who's joined the construction crew. He does beautiful work. His sexy, growly, bearded presence is very hard to ignore, but I'm trying. I'm not sure how such a laid-back guy got the local Alpha and his pack threatening to hunt him down and tear him apart, but we all have our secrets.

Kit McCafferty's life is quiet, unremarkable, and filled with cat hair. In the magical city of Coldstream, located on the border between Scotland and England, Kit is viewed as little more than mildly eccentric and mostly harmless. She passes her days caring for her family of five cats, feeding the local feral moggies, and maintaining relatively good relations with her neighbors. All that changes, however, when a teenage werewolf shows up at her door in the desperate hope of renting out a nearby vacant flat.

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.

It’s been more than twenty years since tragedy prompted Luna Valens to walk away from her pack. Scarred by her past, she’s done her best to lead a normal human life. Thanks to a potion that suppresses her magic, nobody around her has a clue that she’s a werewolf. Until… Her potion supplier disappears, her family reestablishes contact, and a mysterious werewolf with a metal detector and a penchant for calling her my lady saunters into her life.

Welcome to The Slaughtered Lamb Bookstore and Bar. I'm Sam Quinn, the werewolf book nerd in charge. I run my business by one simple rule: Everyone needs a good book and a stiff drink, be they vampire, wicche, demon, or fae. No wolves, though. Ever. I serve the supernatural community of San Francisco. We've been having some problems lately. Okay, I'm the one with the problems. The broken body of a female werewolf washed up on my doorstep. What makes sweat pool at the base of my spine, though, is realizing the scars she bears are identical to the ones I conceal.

Everyone’s welcome at the Stag—vampire, wolf or human. As long as they don’t make trouble. Or ask too many questions about what we’re selling out of the back room. I keep the beers coming, and in return the town keeps my secret. But when a gang of deadly vampires shows up at the bar, it’s clear they’re not looking for a drink. They want to take my business. Or my blood. But this is more than just a shake down. All over town, people are dropping like flies. Disappearing or attacking their neighbors. It’s like they’re possessed. And someone—or something—is pulling the strings.

McCall Richter finds criminals, con men, and deadbeats better than anyone else in the empire. She’s proud of her success and that she owns her own spaceship, especially since she struggles to understand human motivations, can’t tell when people are lying to her, and is horrible at recognizing faces. Being autistic in the empire is frowned upon—and there’s a handy normalization surgery to correct it—but she’s managed to prove her worth and avoid irking the tyrannical regime.

Brigid Donovan is down on her luck. Her husband dumped her for the biggest stereotype around, his secretary, and her family mansion is a decaying wreck. All she wants is to get it restored, enjoy the peace and quiet of living in eight hundred acres of primordial forest, and rebuild her life. Fate seems to be against her. First, her cat starts to speak to her. And what does he say? He's not what he seems to be—seriously? Like a talking cat is normal.

Following an accusation of being a necromancer with no way to prove her innocence, Detective Kirani Kinsley Ramons turns in her badge and flees to Dragon Heights, Wyoming for a fresh start. In Miami, few understand the difference between a necromancer and the descendant of dragons. In Dragon Heights, nobody cares. With weekly rains of unusual composition, dragon-kin and human alike vying for the right to become the next dragon in town, and magic lurking around every turn, there is no better place for Kinsley to hide her skills and history.

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.

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.

When a body is found pulverised beyond recognition, I’m called to investigate. As Chester’s only magical Detective Inspector, it’s my job to handle the cases the Common police can’t. This one has all the hallmarks of the Other Realm—especially when I find a talking bird caged at the scene.

I’m Lucy, alpha werewolf of a pack that hates me. I inherited the pack when I mercy-killed the current alpha at his behest. I did the right thing, but it’s left me head of a werewolf pack who resent that I still live and breathe while their old alpha doesn't.

There are three absolutes in Mairi Wallace's world: 1. The Mages rule every city in Scotland with terrible, violent authority. 2. It is not physically possible for any woman to wield magic. 3. Mairi does not have a voice. She is about to learn that none of these things have to be true. From twisted wynds and tartan shops to a dangerous daemon and malevolent ravens, the future of a tattered nation might lie with one solitary woman.